POTUS Speaks Mechanically

When Obama agreed to reach into the big time and act as front man for the Soros-led super cabal of blind faith red and green agitators, he thought the work would be easy. With the Pavlovian applause of a condemned nation (and world) still ringing in his ears; he thought, “How hard could it be kicking down sand castles?”

Obama is not his own man. He’s a mask, bought and paid for. In this way, he has the exact same function as BP’s Tony Heyward had.

POTUS speaks mechanically alright because he’s been rocked. He realizes that one of the perks he was promised has dried up. He’s no longer getting the adulation his ego so craves. He craves it because he himself is incomplete. He sought to fill a never-ending personal void – with applause.

The signs are not good. The opposition is gaining. He knows his handlers won’t let him lose. They’ll keep him in the ring until the bitter end. It won’t be pretty – for team Obama, that is. People are starting to say things now – things they wouldn’t have said a year ago. And yet, he’d followed the famous script to the letter. He’d tried to infuse the role with the passion that any world class performance demands. He now questions himself. Maybe he just wasn’t as good as he thought he was. He hears the crowd booing; he hears the cat calls; each, a dagger twisting in his heart. He guesses it all started falling apart back when Alinsky’s CliffsNotes were distributed to the public.

Time for a mind-clearing Zen break on the links. Time for another cigarette – it could be the last. What was it again - the last thing the condemned men in the old movies usually asked for before…?