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# Commonality in all people
- URL: https://www.smdp.com/commonality-in-all-people/
- Published: 2008-05-07T15:00:00.000Z
- Updated: 2026-10-25T00:01:57.000Z
- Author: Guest Author
- Tags: Opinion, Santa Monica, #archive-import

*By STEVE BREEN is a mixed breed conservative mutt for McCain and the “best looking mailman with hair at the U.S. Post Office.” He*

I WAS VACATIONING WITH MY FIANCÉE in idyllic Catalina when Hurricane Wright bloviated all over Obama’s campaign trailer park. I was harbored in Avalon’s senescent quietude during the torrential verbal diarrheic deluge of Uncle Jerry’s neo-racialist confabulations and only discovered the ensuing O-brouhaha upon my return.

Nothing was funnier than watching Obamessiah, during a squeamishly terse press conference, kick his aberrant uncle under the wheels of the Political Expediency Express along side his typically white grandmother.

In the subsequent curbing of his parental surrogate, Obama intoned this keynote phrase, “the commonality in all people.” Hmmm.

This is one of the most laughably laborious sentiments ever uttered this side of “Is our children learning?” And if Barry wants to “bridge gaps,” how much will it cost common taxpayers at the tollbooth?

According to opensecrets.org, Exxon executives gave Barry over $313,000 in campaign cash-ola to take the legislative Diamond Lane at rush hour while the rest of us commoners limp along on the shoulder with a flat.

Let’s get this straight … how much “commonality” do you think you share with the embittered millionaire Obamas? Madama Obama says they really “struggle” with that $500,000/yr salary while getting the kidlets “off to summer camp and ballet lessons.”

Waitresses and cab drivers can all relate to the Bermuda Triangle of Columbia/Princeton/Harvard from whence the New Couple of Camelot descended and how they share our bitter plight while sip-ping Pinot Grigio from the balcony of their $1.2 million dollar mansion next door to the Rezkos.

I reject Barry’s back pedaling condescension about my “commonality” in order to save his sophomoric political career. Despite the indisputable fact that Barry and I are Oreo cookies of miscegenation, therein the resemblance ends.

For an effete Ivy League intellectual seeking to distill the extraordinary “me” into the simplistic vapidity of the hoi polloi is a backhand insult at best and a flaming dog poop bomb on the front porch of my life experience at worst.

I worked really hard to be this screwed up and I don’t need a helping hand from Mr. Clean’s neo-Commie cupboard of dishpan panacea, thank you very much.

It’s our acquired life inflicted differences that makes us interesting yet it is clear that Barry’s preening endeavor is to flush those socially intemperate differences down into the miasma of his welfare water closet while anaesthetizing us on dump truck doses of black liberation Obama-holism gruesomely administered during Clockwork Orange inspired episodes of Oprah.

Me? I like extraordinary people. Among my personal extraordinary heroes and heroines are: Franklin, Jefferson, Madison, Teddy Roosevelt, Barry Goldwater, Edison, Ford, Einstein, Condi Rice, Sandra Day O’Connor, Ron Reagan, Bill Cosby and Walt Whitman. Mom, dad and my son in Iraq do top the list, however.

These are big shoes. Obama doesn’t have big enough feet. They do fit perfectly behind his wisdom teeth, however.

We all have our quirks and faults yet those flaws and fractures are what differentiate us from paramecia. I choose not to be cuckolded to Obama’s cult of commonality.

I play jazz piano, sing opera, aided in the fight to defeat communism during the Reagan Revolution and can linguistically mangle food menus in five languages. I am uncommon; I like it that way.

America’s foundations were dog piled by the immigrant refuse of every “respectable” country on the planet. We are a nation of extraordinarily talented global junkyard dogs that built the new Rome without a single governmental social welfare program in sight.

Recently, however, it was reported in the NY Times that there are now psychotherapy treatments for people who incessantly worry about their own carbon emissions being responsible for global warming. Americans once had their souls nailed to their spine; it seems that some of you left both items at the shrink’s office.

And please recall that the last time everybody had “something in common” was in Nazi Germany and that didn’t really work out so well.

On a lesser note, to Bubblemeister Tim Dillenbeck: The haircut challenge is as I stated. The representative loser, on the Tuesday after the November general election, gets their dome peeled. I don’t tell you how to blow bubbles, do I? Take it or leave it, Bub. Additionally, Barack’s mother, classmates and Time magazine called him “Barry.”

*Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on May 7, 2008.* [Read the original PDF.](https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/smdp%5Fbackissues/050708.pdf?ref=smdp.com)