Barack Obama is taking his teleprompter on the road again, this time with Detroit as the first stop on a magical mystery tour to prove that he is, too, still the messiah. He's trying to persuade everybody that he really isn't who he really is.
He's beset by polling numbers that continue to fall. Everything he does makes it worse. He's fleeing Washington's chattering class, and he'll run into the crying class on the road. The president has yet to get his mind around the fact that most Americans have decided that he betrayed their trust, that their only hope for change begins in November...
Mr. Obama has the intellectual's habit, formed by the intellectualoids at elite universities, of trying to parse sentiment by mathematic formula. Americans respond to love of country like they respond to love of home and hearth, with an instinct of heart and gut. Mr. Obama famously told a group of wealthy donors in San Francisco that when Americans "get bitter, they cling to guns or religion," and didn't understand why he enraged the masses. When he apologizes to the nation's enemies, he wins the applause of Fidel Castro and Hugo Chavez, but jeers in Peoria. When he argues that "if we occasionally confess to having strayed from our values and our ideals, [we] strengthen our hand," he wins applause in the faculty lounges of Harvard and Yale, but confirms the verdict of Middle America that "he's not one of us."Or as we say down here in the Deep South, in Redneck Country, "He ain't from 'round here." Just where Obama is from is definitely open to question. As unkind as it is to say it, he may not even be an American.
But until November 2012, he'll be our President and I shall continue to pray for him. And then come November 2012, I plan to join a holy host of other Americans who will vote him the hell out of office!