Obama finally reveals his agenda

Greetings from Barack Obama 2007. That’s me in the white shirt in the photo announcing my entry into the presidential race in front of the statue of Superman in Metropolis, Illinois. I know the photo looks pretty gay, but remember, I only imagine having sex with men. Daily. As I wrote to a girlfriend in 1982:

In regard to homosexuality, I must say that I believe this is an attempt to remove oneself from the present, a refusal perhaps to perpetuate the endless farce of earthly life. You see, I make love to men daily, but in the imagination.

So don’t believe the Fake News that I am secretly gay. I just imagine it.

Daily.

Also don’t believe the Fake News that I was born in Kenya:

Barack Obama, the first African-American president of the Harvard Law Review, was born in Kenya and raised in Indonesia and Hawaii. The son of an American anthropologist and a Kenyan finance minister, he attended Columbia University and worked as a financial journalist and editor for Business International Corporation. He served as project coordinator in Harlem for the New York Public Interest Research Group, and was Executive Director of the Developing Communities Project in Chicago's South Side. His commitment to social and racial issues will be evident in his first book, Journeys in Black and White.

OK, that came from my publicist in 1991. It’s not as if I could have read it and had it corrected. Actually I did have it corrected — in April 2007, two months after I announced I was running for president and needed to be born in the USA.

In 2007, things are going well for me. My main opponent is Hillary Clinton, a drunk, dried up old lady who turns off half the country. People say I should wait my turn but sometimes you get only one chance.

Besides, she’s such a loser that anyone could beat her. Even that Donald Trump.

I really hate that guy. I wish he would run for president because I know I would beat him, too. We would have socialism if not for that pesky Donald Trump. As I wrote in law school:

(Americans have) a continuing normative commitment to the ideals of individual freedom and mobility, values that extend far beyond the issue of race in the American mind. The depth of this commitment may be summarily dismissed as the unfounded optimism of the average American — I may not be Donald Trump now, but just you wait; if I don’t make it, my children will.

As I seek the presidency, my plan is to feed that unfounded optimism of the average American in any way I can. I will be as opaque as possible while offering nothing more than a childish catchphrase. My main message is Yes We Can — a slogan stolen from a children’s show, Bob the Builder. That shows the intellectual level of the average Democrat voter.

I do have one issue: Obamacare. Proposing to have the government take over the health industry is a delicate matter but I am up to it. I plan to make it appear as if the government’s only interest will be to magically make it easier and cheaper to get health insurance. To assuage fears that the government will take over your health care, I have a rebuttal: You Can Keep Your Doctor!

OK, it is not Bob the Builder level Pablum for the brain but it is almost as simplistic. And best of all, it is totally untrue because doctors change jobs all the time. Besides, most people don’t really have a doctor.

But you can keep your imaginary doctor in your imagination. Daily.

People say I don’t have foreign experience but I have what I call mud hut diplomacy having visited one in Kenya — where I wasn’t born.

This means I will do things that only an idiot chieftain in a mud hut would do. I would reverse the war on terrorism by encouraging the rise of the Muslim Brotherhood and a junior varsity of al-Qaeda to turn the Middle East into a chaotic mess of civil wars that will lead to refugees who will swarm Europe. Maybe I’ll even start a war to help create more Muslim refugees.

Those EU idiots will welcome them with open arms because no one wants to be accused of being Islamophobic. So what if they rape, maim and kill the natives? Nobody said an invasion was a pleasant experience.

America is being invaded, right? No one outside of hellholes like Texas care. The illegal aliens (we need to come up with a better phrase, perhaps migratory humans) provide an opportunity to virtue signal, which always makes rich people feel superior.

They made Martha’s Vineyard a sanctuary — as if any illegal alien would ever go there. New York, Chicago and other places far from the border are following suit because it is such a safe way of sounding benevolent.

As for the rest of the world, I imagine a diplomacy that gives people what they want without demanding anything in return. That means recognizing Cuba without bothering to have them do anything in exchange. Likewise, I can lift sanctions and unfreeze the shah’s assets and give the billions to Iran without demanding something as droll as stopping its nuclear program.

That foreign stuff is really not my bag, as it were. My plans for fundamentally changing America are far better. I plan to work with Democrats mayors across this great land to turn cities into open drug markets with walking zombies who live in pup tents. San Francisco has a really great idea of letting people poop in the street.

This cannot be done overnight. This plan will take almost a generation, beginning with my election. In fact it may take three or four terms so when my eight years are up, I will pick some rummy to continue my plan.

A key part is to replace law and order with a fairer system based not on tending the needs of the individual victim but society in general. This means rethinking crime. I am inspired by a song by the Rolling Stones. I conveniently forgot the name of it, but it said, “Just as every cop is a criminal/ And all the sinners saints.”

That means a president must lead the way in discrediting city cops. One way would be for me to say of a thug who killed after he attacked a man that if I had a son, he would look just like that thug. It is a dream of my fatherhood.

My mission is to turn the American dream on its head. This is just an extension of pushing aside the happy homemaker of the 1950s in favor of overworked women who have to be both a father with a job and a mother making a home for children who spend way too much time playing video games.

Those were just Acts I and II. The third act will be to transform those children into deformed, sexless beings. I plan to lift the ban on transgender surgery and open it up to kids. Children’s hospitals across the country will open clinics and rake in the tax-free bucks. I can imagine what wild rationalizations they will use for butchering kids.

But the trannies also will be able to wreck women’s sports and end the safety of powder rooms by forcing people to accept as a woman any man who claims to be a woman, no matter how hairy he is.

It seems illogical here in 2007 when domestic violence is so taboo, but if the upending of every norm we have goes as planned, someday men beating women will be an Olympic sport.

You see, we have to wreck America — destroy all hope — before we can install the socialism that we desire. We have to stop people from striving to be Donald Trump in favor of being part of their tribe, be it black or brown, female or gay man, Muslim or atheist. Straight white Christian straight men need not apply.

Now if you will excuse me, it is time for my daily making love to men, but in the imagination only, which makes it OK.