Moore: Who’s house? Barry’s house

So … I’m not like a political czar or anything, but I’m totes excited about the new President Barry. I know that Barry, our Lord and Saviour, will be totally fierce or whatever, making sure that the House formerly known as White stays in “Us Weekly” and other tabloids. I know that Everybody Hates America right now and that our money is as good as toilet paper. But guess what, folks? The key to a poppin’ economy and a cool image on the rest of the planet is obviously to have a government that the tabloids love to cover.

And how do you do that? Make sure that everybody in the Barry House is HOT and newsworthy! Michelle Obama? The new Oprah. The Obama girls? Adorable. Barry himself? A treat. Even that Biden has a neat smile. But the key player in the Barry House’s newfound hotness is Rahm Emmanuel. OMG isn’t he delicious?! OKAY?! When I learned that he would be Barry’s new mouthpiece, I was like “Ooh!!!” I didn’t like care about his political bio or that he says “Fuck!” a lot.

I was just like, “OK, work that gray hair!!!!”

I can see the gay porn spin-off now: The cover of the DVD will have this short, tanned dude, extremities exposed. The dude will have salt’n’pepper hair, and he’ll be leaning against a desk in some sort of presidential-looking room. The title will be: “Rahminging through the Oral Office.”

I know it sounds like superficial and stuff, but that’s OK. Superficiality is the new black, bitches. Maybe more than ever, peeps thrive off of artifice, glamour and just complete fierceness. Surface, surface, surface. Just think of the number of reality TV shows about Housewives in a City Near You, or stupid expensive Sweet Sixteen parties, or plastic surgery, or fashion, or home design, or “Gossip Girl” — you get what I’m saying.

As a gay, I’m required to be into glamour and like looks or whatever. That’s the stereotype, anyway. Everybody knows a gay who is really into his appearance and who goes to the gym more often than he eats, out of potential fear he’ll never get laid.

“Girl, I’m so hungry and I’m about to pass out. But ooh! Don’t my bootie look cute?!”

Jokes aside, I think that for me, glamour and superficiality add a little bit of comedy to the often-sad reality of the real world. I just get sick of people who take themselves so fucking seriously that they don’t seize the opportunity to be slightly ridiculous. Academics are particularly bad at this. Many of them take their “work” so seriously that they tend to neglect their appearance. Sad. I went to an academic conference not too long ago and sat in on this panel about architecture and the built environment. The dykon who gave the talk droned on and on in the most boring outfit I have ever seen in my entire life. The tragedy consisted of black orthopedic shoes, oversized gray slacks, a dingy, big, brown sweater and a huge olive jacket.

“Why didn’t you just wear a full potato sack?” That’s what I wanted to ask in the Q&A.

I guess you could say we live in a moment when everything has some kind of design or dazzle or image. You gotta make a splash. See, that’s the thing that I really appreciated about the Barry Presidential Campaign — it was this exercise in image-making. And it still is: I’m sure Michelle O. will get a talk show or will become our National Diva — there’s already a fashion blog dedicated to her: www.mrs-o.org. After eight long years, we finally get to have an interesting, favorably tabloid-covered White House. People will obviously care about the issues and all that boring policy stuff, but I get the feeling that more people will be generally mesmerized by the Barry House and will stay tuned into its every move.

I know that I’ve never been so interested in politics.

Now we know the real reason John McCain didn’t win the election. It’s obvi because nobody wants to talk about old people — unless it’s in a bad way. McCain would have probably put other old, boring dudes in his Cabinet. And I swear, if I had to spend four years looking at Cindy McCain in her various neon suits, I would’ve cut a bitch.

So here’s my message to President Barry, the New Oprah and that smokin’ hot silver fox who says “fuck” a lot: Us Americans are tired of frump! Life is a performance. Captivate us!

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