(A Ghostly Story in Two Parts)
Sometime during the night — he was never sure when, since the clock in his office ever-after remained at twelve midnight — he was awakened by what sounded like music from a tinkling piano. “What were the words again?” he wondered. Something about happy times, or happy days. No matter, he had work to do.
Suddenly, the music stopped and the room was filled with light! Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he now beheld the figure of a saintly-looking man. A wreath of smoke that ethereally circled the fedora on his head gave the appearance of a halo, thought Obama, until he realized that it was simply the output of a cigarette in an exquisite holder which protruded jauntily from between his clenched teeth.
“Who are you?” stammered Obama, “And what do you want?”
“I am the Ghost of Liberals Past. I and my brethren have walked the Earth for decades seeking, as have you, to bring the redemptive truth of socialism to a resistant world. But unlike you, we didn’t do it with blind arrogance, but fed it bit by bit to the American people under the guise of compassion. Whenever our goals are out in the open, we are defeated…a lesson you must learn! Take heed; rise and walk with me.”
In an instant, Obama and the Ghost were borne on the wings of the wind where they landed on a sun-splashed beach in Indonesia, where a young boy and his mother sat listening to a portable radio.
“Mom!” cried the president, his eyes tearing up in remembrance.
“Quiet!” demanded the ghost, adjusting his pince-nez glasses more comfortably on his nose.
“But Mommy,” asked little Barry, “why won’t President Johnson run for re-election? You told me he is a great, great man who always tries to help people.”
As his mother tried her best to console her son, the Ghost interrupted, “Many tried to blame the Vietnam War for the defeat of the author of The Great Society, but it was really the rejection of his blatant socialism by the Silent Majority.” At the mere mention of this phrase, both Obama and his eerie guide shivered with disgust.
Next, the pair was transported to a parking lot on a side street in Honolulu, where some high school students were partying in a car. “Damn the man!” hissed the teen-aged Barack, as they discussed the increasing probability of a Ronald Reagan presidency. “Instead of putting on sweaters, Jimmy Carter should have asserted his executive power! I can’t believe some of the things he’s done. Imagine a Democrat advocating for the draft!”
Next, the president saw himself as a upcoming community organizer sitting in his pew in the Trinity United Church in Chicago, listening with rapt attention to his spiritual advisor, who thundered from the pulpit: “No, no, no! Not God bless America…”
Suddenly, the ghost thrust his hands over Obama’s ears and whispered, “God bless the United States of America, God bless them; every one.” This phrase he repeated over and over until Barack was lulled into an uneasy sleep.
After absorbing the ghost’s message, Obama sat up wide awake and once again found himself shivering and alone on the Oval Office sofa. Seeking relief, he hurried into a nearby bathroom and splashed water on his face.
No sooner had he started to towel off, than he heard a soft voice calling his name; but looking in the mirror he saw nothing but his own ashen reflection. Turning around and looking down, he spied a queer, waiflike creature peering up at him. Why, it was the very image of a certain ultra-liberal congressman from Ohio!
A man of faith in a godless age is hitting Americans where it hurts.
Mr. and Mrs. American Spectator Reader, let P.J. O’Rourke talk sense to your kids.
In Britain, defending your property can get you life.
It won’t take long for conservatives to scratch this presidential wannabe off their 2008 scorecard.
Was the President done in by the economy, or by the politics of the economy?