Saturday, December 05, 2009

Romy and Michele at the White House


The party-crashing Salahis rub shoulders with the Obamas.

By LIONEL TIGER

Perhaps the most efficient way to understand the grandiose conniption caused by Tareq and Michaele Salahi's earnest devotion to the cause of international diplomacy is to refer to that classic American film: "Romy and Michele's High School Reunion." Cinema fans well remember this tale of two vigorously ditsy graduates returning empty-handed in the status department to their high school reunion. Played by Mira Sorvino and the irreplaceable Lisa Kudrow, the gals concoct a series of stories about their out-of-state triumphs to impress those former prom queens and quarterbacks who earlier scorned them, including a deliriously convincing description by Ms. Kudrow about her invention of Post-Its.

Redemption triumphs when the class geek, Alan Cummings—who has made a real fortune in rubber—swoops in on a helicopter to extract Romy and Michele while unmarried pregnant prom queens and now-fat wide receivers puke drunkenly in the high school hallways.

The hunger for status can be, and often is, as profound as hunger for food. The serial inventions of the Salahis—from preparing for a fictitious Prince Charles at a polo match to prancing with Redskin football cheerleaders during halftime—is almost bewilderingly stupid. But they aimed high, used just-plausible techniques, and focused on a community in which management of impression is a thriving industry.

The Salahis plunged zealously into the compote which has become reality. They sculpted an unreal invite to score their equivalent of the lie about Post-Its. Madam S donned a red sari, a costly hairdo, and confronted a Secret Service person who may very well have, because of their diversity-appropriate names, suffered a Maj. Hasan moment. Presumably he or she contemplated how offensive it would be to degrade someone named Salahi at the White House.
Meanwhile, the White House staff was drinking up at the elegant party for the visiting Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh. Who would choose to miss one breath of the sweet super-oxygen of the highest status in the land?

So where is reality? Is it owned by the Bravo channel? Is it just yet another endless refraction of every human experience through a super-Cubist lens of Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, texting, the 24/7 Housewives of Everywhere, and the sweaty lowland swamp of blogs? Of course it is. And the audience consuming the media has seen it as an exceptionally improbable entertainment perfect for contemplation, if only because of that driving fatuous vanity that should rightly land the Salahis in court.

But there is a brutal reality linked to the crashing of this first state dinner, which is that an earlier leader of India, Rajiv Ghandi, was killed at point-blank range by a young woman wearing a sari carrying a grievance and a bomb beneath her dress. The danger of this security breach was enormous.

Everyone from the Obamas on down are more than correct to respond to it with fierce anger and some justified fear. We were fortunate that this time was just Romy and Michele at the door. But there is no guarantee about who might be behind them in the line next time.

How much absurdity can the country take? Two popinjay jerks with an orchard of debts mock the structure of government at its very apex. Now that government is sending 30,000 members of the military to perform Act Two of a drama to perfect a country which is not a country, to dissuade bad, violent people from arriving on our territory even though our enemies over there have perfected the knack of creating them over here.

And finally, most arrestingly, the leading saint of golf, a Mr. T. Woods, has landed himself in The Worst And Oldest Sand Trap in the World. Golf is of course the core entertainment of the folks who run the country—a sport without sweat, without bodily contact, devoid of real competition except with oneself, and no passion except for winning. How this will affect those in Washington as they struggle to reperfect this economy is unclear, but possibly gloomily deep.

It's not been a good week.

Mr. Tiger is professor of anthropology at Rutgers.


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"Unprecedented” first state dinner in a tent
“Party Crashers” had five-year relationship with Obama before state dinner


By Judi McLeod Saturday, November 28, 2009

imageWhile the big gun media and American Secret Service are out there investigating “party crashers” Tareq and Michaele Salahi, no one’s telling the truth: Obama knew the Salahis when he was still an Illinois senator.

Polo Contacts Worldwide could make it easy for the investigating Secret Service by brown-enveloping them this picture:

ROCKTHEVOTEJune82005014

Hey Secret Agent Man, here’s Obama, the senator flashing his pearly whites with Randy Jackson, better known as a judge on American Idol. “Others pictured are Black Eyed Peas Rock Band; Tareq Salahi the President of the America’s Polo Cup; President Elect Obama, Fergie from Black eyed Peas and Michaele Salahi, posing this time as a former Miss USA and SuperModel.”

Interesting little detail for White House gumshoes: As the above photo was published in June 2005, Barack Obama was still Senator Obama and not the President Elect.

And with Michaele Salahi yesterday having been caught out—Facebook pompoms notwithstanding—as a bogus cheerleader for the Washington Red Skins and not a model for Victoria’s Secret as claimed, Canada Free Press (CFP) leaves it to FoxNews.com to find out if she ever was a “former Miss USA”.

We do know for a fact that among the slew of memberships on charitable boards, Tareq Salahi is a former member of The American Task Force on Palestine (ATFP). The only way to know for a fact is because even though ATFP scrubbed all references to Salahi as a board member, he can still be found on Google cache. (Canada Free Press)

Sad that White House Secret Service are looking like Keystone Kops in the aftermath of Obama’s very first state house dinner in the tent.

While the media is fixated on the hitch in Michaele Salahi’s git-along, there can be no doubt that these recently minted “party crashers” really get around.

We take you back to June 9, 2005 when Tom Nelson, operating officer of AARP, was summing up the Rock the Vote Awards night. According to the Washington Post “everyone from Sens. John McCain and Barack Obama to “American Idol” judge Randy Jackson and R&B singer Mya gathered in the National Building Museum’s Great Hall:

“You were probably wondering, as you sat down at your table, ‘What the heck is the AARP doing in a Rock the Vote Event?’” Nelson noted.

Time would soon tell that the AARP would show up in other fishy places.

And if there is anyone who must know that this weekend’s party crasher story is a crock it’s John McCain who was at the Vote Awards Night, and who along with Barack Obama, was honored with the Rock the Nation Award, Obama “for forming a multiracial coalition in winning his seat”.

McCain was handed his award for “his work on campaign finance reform”. “Just call me Funk Master McCain,” he told the audience of 1,000 in accepting his award.: (washingtonpost.com, June 9, 2005.

Meanwhile, don’t know why Obama’s long time associates possibly could be mistaken for party crashers when they came into the tent with a Bravo Reality TV Show “Real Housewives of DC” professional camera crew and makeup artist in tow unless he was hoping for a Reality gig for wife Michelle, CBS celebrity Katie Couric or Chief of Staff Rahm Emanuel.

Obama could end the “party crasher” goose chase for White House Secret Service in a proverbial New York Minute by coming clean on his almost 5-year-old social/political relationship with Tareq and Michaele Salahi.

It could save money in these recessionary times and put an end to the drama of Washington’s “unprecedented” first state dinner in a tent.

Copyright © Canada Free Press
Judi McLeod is an award-winning journalist with 30 years experience in the print media. A former Toronto Sun columnist, she also worked for the Kingston Whig Standard.

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