After stopping at a cafe with a friend, we returned to the car to discover this business card pinned underneath the windshield wiper. Just as I was about to rip it to shreds, I thought I'd retain it as more evidence of the bizarre cult of personality that shadows Barack Obama, or, as Oprah is fond of calling him, The One. The image is striking in its religious undertones, not so subtly conveyed. With the omnipresence of a god, a solemn and saintly Obama benignly gazes down from the clouds to his children below as fluttering doves form a laurel wreath on his head. HOPE incarnate has arrived for the left. Unbelievable.
The overwhelming majority of Obama's supporters are enamored with a contrived story of an "accomplished" man who has, as his sole achievement, pieced together a quasi-religious political movement rooted in undiluted liberalism tinged heavily with the machinations of liberation theology and the radical black power ideology of the sixties. The remarkable thing about this movement is the total yawn-inspiring vapidity of its jejune front-man.
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