During the 2008 campaign, Mr. Obama made many grand promises to an American public who had endured eight years of George Bush and Republican rule. But rather than reversing the Bush policies, he furthered them. Weren’t we certain that Democracy and Capitalism were going to return to America?

Within days of assuming the Presidency, Mr. Obama compromised all of his values, reneged on the campaign promises he made, and declared (to his inner circle) that his
priority was shooting his game of basketball, golf, and that the agencies of government would pretty much have to run themselves because he was not competent to advise them on policy because he had no experience. And in return he would prosecute and whistleblowers, support government spying, and sequester every possible classified document so that those agencies could not be investigated or interfered with. Following is a recap of what occurred in those first days . . .

“Mr. President,” Rahm Emanuel said,” we–.”
“President! Ah, that has a wonderful ring about it, does it not?” Barak said more than asked. “Makes me want to shoot hoops with LaBron!”
“The agenda, Sir,” Rahm suggested more strongly.
“Yes, of course. We’ll start with complete transparency, then charge Bush, Rumsfeld, Rove, and Cheney with war crimes.”
“I’m afraid we can’t do that, Sir,” Rahm insisted.
“Why not? I promised the American people!”
“Well sir, it might set a bad president. You see, chances are you’re going to be guilty of war crimes yourself. If you prosecute Bush and his cronies, then the next president might decide to do the same thing.”
“But I would never commit a war crime!”
“Let’s set that aside for a moment, sir. There’s a man here to see you that supported your Presidency by rallying a great number of volunteers and voters to your cause.”
“Who is it?”
“David Caruthers. President of Tax the Fat. It’s an organization promoting a tax on unhealthy foods in the schools and supermarkets.”
“Send him in!”
A tall, thin, young man, wearing an off the rack suit, entered.
“Tell the President your agenda, Mr. Caruthers,” Rahm instructed.
“Very well.” Caruthers took a seat, then said to the Barak, “We want you to propose a food tax like several Scandinavian countries have put in place. Foods with too much cholesterol, salt, sugar, and fat will carry a premium; foods low in those categories will sell at a discount. We have a plan already formulated and it’s relatively simple to implement. In addition, you can champion legislation that will end the advertising of junk food on TV. 44% of all TV commercials are for foods with no nutritional value and make you fat. 80% of Americans are overweight and 50% are obese. That’s what’s breaking the back of the Medicade and Medicare systems.”
“That sounds wonderful, Mr. Caruthers,” Obama said. “Now let me explain reality to you. Americans spent 115 billion dollars on non-alcoholic beverages last year, and $1,240 billion on food. The Food and Beverage Lobby likes things just the way they are.”
“But we’re not suggesting people spend less on food and beverages, just that they buy healthier foods and beverages.”
“Look, son,” Obama said. “The manufacturers make five times as much profit on junk food and carbonated beverages than they do on healthy foods. They’d be crazy to change. Besides, people love their snacks; makes them feel better. Hey did you know that people burn less calories watching TV than they do sleeping? Yep. At least they toss and turn while sleeping! That’s a good one, isn’t it, son?”
“But I thought you said you were going to outlaw lobbyists under your administration?”
“That was just rhetoric to get elected. If I did that, I’d never be reelected. Not only that, but there wouldn’t be a Democratic majority in Congress for the next eight years. And if that’s not enough, now that there are super packs with unlimited monies, they’d spend billions of dollars besmirching my good name. And they’d do the same in Congress to all the Democrats.
“But your promises, Mr. President Your campaign promises!”
“Yes, well, that was then, this is now. I want to be reelected, wouldn’t you?”
“The people who voted for you don’t care about your second term, or about whether your party maintains a majority in Congress later on.”
“If I pass your legislation, I become a one term president, or I go along with the program and get reelected.”
Mr. Caruthers was stunned. He tried to stand but his legs couldn’t hold him. Rahm came over and helped him up. But on the way out, the man looked back at Obama and shook his head remorsefully.
“Who’s next, Rahm?” I’ve got a golf date with Tiger Woods at two. Can’t let anything get in the way of that, now can we? Plus he’s going to give me some marital advice.”
“Mr. Zachary, Sir, is waiting outside. He’s President of the Education Foundation.”
“Send him in,” Obama said, practicing his golf swing with an imaginary three wood.
“We’re excited that you’re going to cut defense spending by 30% and use the money to build schools, subsidize the cost of education, so we can turn out three times as many educated people trained in high tech. We’ll take the lead again in patents, which China just surpassed us in, and we’ll feed all the poor children breakfast so they can remember what they learn and become productive members of society. We’ll once again be a nation able to compete in the information age.”
“Now all that sounds wonderful, Mr. Zachery, but let me explain the reality to you. Defense spending is around nine hundred billion dollars . . . give or take a few billion. I mess with that and I’ll be facing 100 Republican senators and 435 Republican members of Congress. I would never pass one piece of legislation in my second term . . . other than maybe a requisition for some new furniture for the Oval office.”
Zachery opened his mouth but no words came out.
“Superpacks, Zach. Unlimited spending by lobbyists. The day I screw with the defense budget is the day I throw away my second term. Now, if we’re done here, I’m a busy man,” Obama said, now standing over a potential twelve foot putt for a birdie.
Rahm tapped Zachary on the shoulder. “Don’t take it personal,” he said, leading the man out the door.
“What’s next, Rahm?” Obama asked, proud of how much he had accomplished in such a short time.
“Diane Lucas, a representative of the Energy Independence Group,” Rahm said, leading the woman into the room.
Barak was dribbling a basketball. “Can we get a hoop set up in here, Rahm? Maybe raise the ceiling a few feet?”
“Mr. President,” Diane began, “we would like you to issue a statement to the press concerning your campaign promise to enact new gas mileage standards for the car industry. At 45 mpg we’ll never have to import another gallon of oil. Europe’s already at 55 mpg. We can get to 45 mpg in just two years according to independent studies.”
“Afraid not, Ms. Lucas. You see, the manufacturers break even when they sell cars. They make all their money on trucks and SUVs, so they’re just going to have to keep producing those big suckers.
“Don’t think they can get to 45 mpg for the fleet until say . . . ,” Barak smiled and looked at his watch, “2050.” He finished with a hearty laugh, then threw the basketball up. It hit a picture of Lincoln and it crashed to the ground.
“The auto manufacturers are going to sell 13.8 million cars, trucks, and SUVs this year,” Barak explained. “If I even talk about changing fleet mpg standards their lobbyists will bury my reelection chances and allocate a billion dollars to the election of every Republican Senator and Congressmen. And I can’t ride around in a 45 mpg Hybrid car instead of the Presidential limousine, which, I might add, gets 6 mpg. Now run along Ms. Lucas, I’ve got a lot of important work to do,” Obama said, practicing his hook shot.
Diane was stunned. As she walked away, Obama called out, “You don’t want me to be a one term president, do you Ms. Lucas?”
The woman was woozy. Rahm saw it and went over and helped her. She was weakened by the reality. Her legs buckled; Rahm caught her and escorted her out of the Oval Office.
“Rahm, we’ve got to invite Michael Jackson for a sleep over. He’s one of the greatest musicians and singers ever!”
“Yes, Sir. But he’s a pedophile!” Rahm countered.
“Okay, then set him up in the East wing and station the secret service in front of my kids’ room.”
Rahm did not think it was funny. He put his game face on and said, “Mr. President, here’s Dwight Allen, the chairman of the organization to legalize drugs in America.” He guided the man into the Oval Office.
“Mr. President,” Allen began, “we’ve got to legalize drugs before more of our young men are in prison, and before Mexico becomes a failed state.”
“Sorry, Sir. I can’t let that happen,” Barak said smiling.
“But if we legalize drugs, that brings three hundred billion dollars back to the U.S. economy. We can set up clinics like they have in Europe. Provide methadone. Crime will go down by 40%!”
“Yes, but Pharmaceuticals is a six hundred billion dollar business! We can’t allow a little thing like 60,000 murders in Mexico interfere with that,” Barak explained.
“But murder and kidnapping are coming to our country.”
“The pharmaceuticals are already competing with alcohol and cigarettes. That’s about as much as they can handle, thank you very much. And do know how much they contribute to me and the Democratic party?”
“But Mr. President!” Alan insisted.
“If I try to legalize drugs, the lobbies will spend a billion dollars to refute everything I
say and paint me as a pot smoking, cocaine-snorting, LSD-dropping maniac. No second term there, Allen.”
“Do you care more about the American people and the economy or more about your legacy?” Allen asked
“Why my legacy, of course!” Barak quickly replied. He took some darts out of the desk and shot them at pictures of Bush 41 and Truman.
Rahm escorted the man out and brought in white haired, stocky woman.
“Who is this?” Obama asked Rahm.
“Sally Jensen, President of the Society for Prison Reform,” Rahm replied.
“Welcome,” Barak said. “Com’on over and have a seat! What’s on your mind?”
“We have to legalize drugs, Mr. President. 70% of all people in prison are incarcerated for non-violent drug offenses. We can save $55,000 a year for each cell we vacate.” And it’s disproportionally Blacks and Latinos in jail. They make up 28% of the general population but they’re 60% of the prison population!”
“It’s not as easy as that, Ms. Jensen. You see, the prison industry is one of the only growth industries in the country. Did you know that when aerospace went bust in California, 50% of all jobs added in the next ten years were in the prison system?”
“I didn’t–,” she began.
“I know, Sally, it’s tough to fathom. But here’s the best part. Prisoners make a dollar twenty-five cents an hour. We’re tuning prisons into factories with walls. Do you know who said that?”
“No, I–.”
“Supreme Court Justice Warren Burger – 1974.”
“Really?” Sally asked.
“I had to know that,” Barak said. “It was on the law boards.”
“Yes, well . . .,” Sally began.
“Look Sally. We can’t compete with China otherwise. If we maintain the drug laws and keep the prison full, we’ll soon have five million people making less than Chinese workers make. We’ll be able to compete. You want to mess with that?”
“Of course not. Now I’ve got to get back to work. I need to endorse more stringent regulations for prisons so we can keep inmates in locked up longer. Did you know that prisoners in private institutions serve 66% longer sentences than people in state and federal institutions? I didn’t think so.”
“But your campaign promises: change, reform!”
“Oh, I was talking about redecorating the Oval Office.”
“You can’t be–.”
“Please, Sally. I need to take the hard line against drugs and support the current laws in order to be reelected. I can’t let a little thing, like being the country with highest percentage of its population incarcerated, stop me.”
“Well, it looks like we see eye to eye. Have a nice day, Sally.”
The woman left the room disenchanted, demoralized.
“Who’s next, Rahm? I’m on a roll!”
“The head of the Latino Workers Association,” Rahm replied, dribbling the basketball around the room.
“Great, I’m ready!”
Rahm guided Federico Penza into the room.
“Welcome, Freddy. Have a seat,” Barak said.
Federico declined the seat and said, “We need to establish a fast track to citizenship for my people, Mr. President. Make immigrates a part of the great American dream!”
“No, we need to finish building the border fence,” Obama countered. “It will protect our jobs and your citizens! We need to stop illegal immigrates from draining the social services of our country.”
“But why are you calling them illegal?” Penza asked incredulously. “Aren’t all immigrates legal until or unless they commit a crime?”
“Your people are taking advantage of our system,” Barak countered.
“No, Mr. President,” Penza began, “the Mexican workers are not talking advantage of the system, it is employers that do not take out taxes who cheat the system. Make it a felony to hire workers from any country and not collect and pay the proper taxes: two years in prison and $10,000 fine for each offense. That will solve the problem and take away the need for a fence or quotas. Mexicans are not taking American jobs. Mexican workers make it possible for American companies to compete due to the fact they work for lower pay.”
“What you say makes sense, but illegal aliens are an important issue,” Barak said. “I need the vote of the conservatives to win reelection. So I’ve got to take a hard line on aliens. We need to close the door on immigrants.”
“But we are all immigrants,” Penza insisted. “The white man came here and killed the Indians and stole their land and their country. Then the Irish, and Italians, and Jews, and Chinese came. We did not stop them from immigrating. Are you saying that now, since we are here, we should close the door behind us?”
“Well, no, but–,” Barak began.
“Thank you, Mr. President. I think I’ve heard enough. Maybe I can rally my people so that you will have more Latinos voting against you than conservatives voting for you.”
Rahm escorted Penza out of the room.
“Next!” Obama called out. “Damn, people expect so much from me. Who do they think I am, anyway?”
Rahm went to the door and brought in a white-haired gentleman in. “Here we have Frank Vincent, representing the Committee to Reform Health Care.”
Vincent took a seat and began right in. “Mr. President, we must reform health care.
“The system is broken. Doctors’ hands are tied. The rules make it impossible to
dispense rational medical care. Doctors are more worried about being sued than treating patients. We must institute legislation where people can choose to die rather than live in prolonged suffering.”
“Afraid not, Frank. You see, health care is a trillion dollar business. And 60% of the entire amount of money spent on caring for a patient is spent in the last four months of their lives. We can’t tamper with that. Remember what the AMA did when Jack Kevorkian tried to administer to the sick and dying? They put his old ass in jail for ten years. Nobody, certainly not me, is going to get between doctors, hospitals, and one trillion dollars. Besides, the AMA likes obese people. They get Alzheimer’s in their fifties, heart attacks in their thirties, diabetes in their twenties. The medical bills for people with those health problems are four times the average.”
“But we can save the country hundreds of billions of dollars,” Frank implored.
“Sure, but then that money would go to the people instead of the AMA. No, the AMA is tickled pink with the way things are. Remember the old saying, ‘If it ain’t broke,
don’t fix it,” Barak added with a laugh. “If I try messing with them, they’ll spend whatever
they have to to see that I’m not reelected and face a Republican dominated Congress the whole time I’m in office. You don’t want me to be a one term President, do you? No? Now you’re excused.”
Rahm helped Frank out of his seat and guided him to the door.
“Who’s next, Rahm?” Barak asked, rocking wildly in a chair.
“Henry Kaiser, People for a Greener America, Sir,” Rahm replied.
“Okay,” Barak said, “show him in.”
An elderly gentleman entered the room. He looked around at the opulence and frowned. “We must go green, Mr. President,” Henry insisted. “It will create millions of new jobs. We’ll be the world leader in environmental policy and implementation.”
“I’m afraid not, Henry,” Obama said. “First of all, China is already the world leader in green technology and implementation. Second, if I go green, that adds a great deal of costs to industry. They’ll either close up or go off shore. Unemployment will go up and we’ll be back in another recession . . . or worse.”
“But it will create new jobs!” Henry insisted.
“Yea, but that’s a few years down the road. I won’t be reelected for a second term. Can you live with that? I know I can’t.”
“Well, I–.”
“I need to think about my Presidential Library, Frank. That’ll keep my mind off the nasty issues.”
“But the coal plants are destroying to atmosphere,” Henry implored. “Off shore drilling is polluting the seas. Oil dependency is forcing us into energy wars!”
“I can’t afford to go green right now,” Barak explained. “It might add one percent to unemployment. That will kill my chances for reelection.”
“Oh. I didn’t–.”
“Maybe in 2030,” Barak added with a laugh. “And I can’t even think about signing the Kyoto Accord. I know we’re the only major player to abstain, but if I do, the Energy Lobby will pour millions of dollars against me and the Democrats in the next election.”
Rahm guided Frank out. The man looked back once and shook his head remorsefully.
“Lunch time!” Barak said. “Cheeseburgers and fries: soul food!”
“Mr. President, we’ve got to get through these meeting if you want to have time to play one on one with LeBron James latter this afternoon.”
“Right. Okay then, let’s speed things up.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Who are you hiding out there?” Barak asked.
Rahm went to the door and came in guiding a very pretty, fortyish woman, dressed elegantly.
“Mr. President,” Rahm announced. “Ms. Marsha Harrington: Representing Citizens against War.”
“Thank you for seeing me, Mr. President,” she said, holding out a hand.
Obama almost stabbed her with the darts he was holding, but switched hands at the last second and took hers.
“What can I do for you, Ms. Harrington?”
“We want you to follow through on your campaign promises and order an immediate pull out from Afghanistan and Iraq, cut back our foreign bases, and for the U.S. to take responsibility for the coups in Honduras, Haiti, and Nicaragua that cost over a million
lives in countries where there was a duly elected president. We want America to admit
intent and apologize for bombing Al Jezzera during the first gulf war and the Chinese Embassy during the Serbian conflict.”
“We don’t apologize for anything,” Ms. Harrington,” Obama insisted. “You don’t understand military intimidation and global economics. We don’t care if a country is a democracy or socialist. Our mission is to open our markets to as many people as possible. We can’t do that unless we control those governments. We make them an offer they can’t refuse. We threaten the administration to allow our corporations to go in, set up shop, suck the country dry of resources, and turn the indigenous population into slaves. It’s all about the American Diaspora. If the first guy we ask balks, then we put someone else in place and ask him.”
“I won’t stand for–.”
“That’s the way it’s been done for a century, Ms. Harrington. Industry and the military work together. We constantly need new sources of raw material and new markets to sell our products to. If a few hundred thousand people have to die in the process, well that’s just progress.”
“But your campaign promises, Mr. Obama. Don’t they mean anything to you?”
“Sure, but not as much as getting reelected . . . and a round of golf in the 70s!”
“What are you, Mr. Obama? A charlatan? A chameleon?”
“If we pull back from any where in the world, then, within a year, I could become the first president to be responsible for an atomic bomb going off in this country. I don’t want to accept that responsibility.”
“We’re making more enemies than friends in any action we take in the Middle East and Asia,” Ms. Harrington insisted.
“Sure, we ruffle a few feathers, but you’re not seeing the big picture. Everything we do: torture, water boarding, extraordinary renditions, kidnapping, etc. leads to new sources, new information about weapons builders and terrorist plans.”
“But we’ve already lost more men fighting those wars than we lost in the World Trade Towers bombings,” Ms. Harrington said.
“Yeah, well, the numbers don’t add up for a civilian, but the military boys been doin’ it this way for a long time. And I think they’re doin’ a might fine job.”
“But young boys are getting killed and maimed!”
“If those men and women didn’t have a place in the military, they’d be on welfare, food stamps, or committin’ crimes on the streets of our cities.”
“But they wouldn’t be dying!”
“They like the action, Mr. President. “Some say it’s better than sex.”
Ms. Harrington turned and walked out of the room, disregarding the President’s plea to remain.
“Oh well,” Barak mumbled. “One step closer to hoops and golf.
“What’s next, Rahm?”
“Felipe Caldero,’ Rahm replied. “President of the Friends of Cuba League.”
Felipe entered the room in front of Rahm.
“What about Cuba?” Barak asked Felipe.
“They’re no threat to America. It’s only been the Cuban people who have suffered for fifty years from our embargo.”
“Ronald Regan,” Barak began, “the most beloved Republican President in the 20th century said they’re a threat to Democracy; and if he said so . . . .”
“But I remember what the Mexican President said when President Regan asked
Miguel de la Madrid for his support in fighting communism in Nicaragua, Honduras, and
Cuba. Madrid said, ‘If I tell my people that those countries are a threat to America and to democracy then one hundred million Mexican will die laughing.”
“Votes are no laughing matter, Mr. Caldero. I’ll need the anti-Castro vote in Florida to carry the next election . . . unless you intend for me to be a one term president? I know I don’t intend for that to be the case.”
“The anti-Castro vote isn’t more important than all the Cubans suffering from the embargo,” Felipe insisted.
“Tell that to Al Gore and John Kerry,” Barak countered.
“You have not heard the last of this, Mr. President,” the man said exiting the room.
“What’s next, Rahm. I’m hungry!”
“There are two men outside that you’ll get to know better a little later in your administration,” Rahm said.
He went out, then guided two men into the Oval Office. “This way, gentlemen,” Rahm said.
“Mr. President, I’d like you to meet Bradley Manning, Julien Assange. There two men are going to uncover war crimes perpetrated by our military and civilian defense contractors.”
“These are the people I need in my administration! Whistle blowers. I’m going to have the most transparent administration ever!”
“Do you read the bible, Mr. President?” Julien asked.
“No, the Koran,” Barak said with a smile.
“What? Are you serious?” Bradley exclaimed.
“Just joking,” Barak retorted.
“Well, don’t make fun at the expense of Jesus,” Julien said. “Now, in Matthew 26.34, Jesus confronted his disciples and said unto them, ‘Truly, I tell you, this very night, before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times.’”
“What does that have to do with me?” Barak asked.
“During your administration,” Rahm explained, “you will have Bradley here locked up, tortured and placed in solitary confinement for the rest of his life because he uncovered war crimes. And you will authorize the CIA to threaten, cajole, and intimated people to accuse Julien here of rape and put his company out of business. All because he uncovered war crimes.”
“I would never do that!”
“Keep Matthew 36:24 in mind, Barack,” Rahm said. “Just remember that. Oh, and don’t forget, since you will be made aware of war crimes but do nothing to prosecute or stop them, you’ll be just as guilty as the perpetrators. Remember, that’s why we can’t prosecute Bush.”
“Hell, I’m the President. There’s nothing I can’t do!”
“Then why such a hard line, Barak?” Rahm asked. “I thought you were going to be a reformer? That’s why I joined the campaign!”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Rahm. I’m a wimp. People used to call me a pencil neck. I never got into a fight, and if I did, I’d loose. I need to prove to myself and show the world that I’m a real man, even more of a man than George Bush. And the only way to do that is to take a tougher stance than he did. George did the same thing with Iraq to show his father up: finish the job George 41 didn’t. It’s just part of the machismo of the office. Now hand me one of those eight inch Cuban cigars!”
“Well I’m going to quit then. You BS’ed the American people and I don’t want any part of that!”
“Hey, stick around, Rahm. We’ll have some fun!”
“Sounds great, Mr. President,” Rahm said condescendingly.
“Can we go now?” Barak asked petulantly.
“Just one more, Mr. President.”
“Well, who is it?”
“Jamal Kalief, head of the Arab Union.”
“Okay. Let’s get this over with quick. Show him in,” Barak said, flinging darts at the portrait of Ronald Regan.
Rahm escorted the rotund Arab into the room. “Mr. President, may I introduce Jamal Kalief.”
“Welcome, Jamal,” Barak said, still focused on his darts. “What can I do for you?’
“Do you know, Mr. President, what the code of the Zionists is?
“No,” Obama replied, disinterested.
“A hundred to one,” Jamal said.
“A hundred to one?” Barak repeated, now curious.
“That’s right. For every Jew killed, one hundred Arabs have to die. It was the only way Israel can justify all their battles. Look back at every war they fought: a hundred to one, maybe even better than a hundred to one. The only way the Arabs can win is by a war of attrition. But the Jews figured out that if they kill that many Arabs in retaliation for any attack, then we would give up the jihad.
“The world has come to believe that America value Jews more than Arabs . . . by a figure of a hundred to one. Are Israelis worth that much more than Arabs? I think not.
“Therefore, we demand that the United States, from hereon, make foreign aid and military hardware sales to Israel contingent upon the tearing down of exiting settlements in the disputed areas. Also, real progress must be made at the peace table or all existing aid pledges should be transferred to the Arab nations surrounding Israel.”
“What?” Barak exclaimed, standing and confronting the shorter Arab.
“I’m not finished, Mr. President,” Jamal said. “Now please sit down!”
The Arab spoke so loudly, Barak was caught off guard and so took his seat.
“All parties must be invited to the peace process and treated as equals. This includes the democratically elected Hamas government, Fatah, Palestinians, and Lebanese: the countries with the highest stake in the region.
“Israel must conform to the newly aligned borders, peace process, and recognition of Palestine as an independent state or Israel must be ostracized by the international community. And then, if required, sanctions should be put in place, just as sanctions were placed upon the enemies of Israel for decades. What do you say to this, Mr. President?”
“Are you crazy?” Barak exclaimed. “Do you know how much the Jewish lobbies contribute to the Democratic party? We could never win an election without those monies. No, I’m afraid that we need to keep things as they are.”
“And support a fascist state bent on depriving a hundred million Arabs of their land, their freedom, and their economic survival?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”

* * *

Mr. Obama can go back to teaching at Harvard or Yale or Columbia. That’s a perfect profession for him. Mr. Obama needs to step aside and allow a person who has had the requisite experiences in the real world, not the world of academia, to lead this country on a new course.
Obama was elected with one of the largest mandates in recent times; an absolute majority in Congress. The leverage to pass nation-altering legislation. He threw it all away for a shot at a second term, and a futile attempt to keep a continuing Democratic majority in Congress.
In the forty plus years I have been covering politics, I have never known a president with less courage of his convictions than Barak Obama. Call it chutzpah, cojones, huevos, guts; it simply isn’t there. Growing up without trials, or great obstacles, or challenges, he did not have the opportunity to forge his mettle and he did not live enough years to garner the experience needed for the highest office in the land.
He entered the presidency on a wave of euphoria and grand promises made to the American people.
Mr. Obama, can’t use his good judgment and experience because he doesn’t have any. The American people elected him because of the promises he made; not because of his experience, but in spite of it. And that didn’t change one day after he got elected.

My political commentary is meant to bring a heightened consciousness and real discussion to people intent on changing social, political, and economic conditions. Politics as usual is destroying our Democracy. Government corruption demands real political change, not just a new candidate in the old system. Political leadership only leads to self-serving agendas and self aggrandizement. Politicians eschew social causes for personal enrichment. Political power corrupt morality and rationality. The result is criminal behavior and Constitutional crimes.

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