The Obama Experience. It's transplendid!

Even though I intend, through shear willpower and dint of character, to avoid ever attending one of Barack Obama's old time revival and gospel testifyin' showcases, I have often nonetheless wondered how I would react if placed in the middle of such an event. In fact just the other day I envisioned seeing Him with a liberal friend of mine serving as an escort. Naturally in my musing, questions arose: What emotions might surge through me when the Promised One speaks of hope, change, and...um...other cool stuff? How would I react to the whole scene? Would it change me? Would it heal my soul (H/T Michelle Obama)?

Deep questions indeed, as I'm sure you agree. Fortunately the medium of film has a ready answer to them. A mere five minute scene from Woody Allen's Annie Hall provides all of the insight I need to understand the Obama Experience and those who dig it.

In the scene, Alvy Singer (played by Woody Allen) is on a date with Pam (Shelley Duvall), a hippy-dippy reporter for Rolling Stone. Pam drags Alvy to a concert/event put on by the Maharishi. Here's what transpires (Sorry...Couldn't find the clip on YouTube):

Pam: I think there are more people here to see the Maharishi than there were to see the Dylan concert. I covered the Dylan concert ... which gave me chills. Especially when he sang:

She takes just like a woman
And she makes love just like a woman Yes, she does
And she aches just like a woman
But she breaks just like a little girl.

(They move toward the aisles as a guard holds up his hands to stop them)

Up to that I guess the most charismatic event I covered was Mick's Birthday when the Stones played Madison Square Garden.

Alvy: (Laughing) Man, that's great. That's just great.

Pam: You catch Dylan?

Alvy: (Coughing) Me? No, no. I-I couldn't make it that ni…My…My raccoon had hepatitis.

Pam: You have a raccoon?

Alvy: (Gesturing) Tsch…A few.

Pam: The only word for this is transplendid. It's transplendid!

Alvy: I can think of another word.

Pam: He's God! I mean, this man is God! He's got millions of followers who would crawl all the way across the world just to touch the hem of his garment.

Alvy: Really? It must be a tremendous hem.

Pam: I'm a Rosicrucian myself.

Alvy: Are you?

Pam: Yeah.

Alvy: I can't get with any religion that advertises in Popular Mechanics. Look-

(The Maharisbi, a small, chunky man, walks out of a door, huge bodyguards flanking him while policemen bold back the crowds)

There's God coming outta the men's room.

Pam: It's unbelievably transplendid! I was at the Stones concert in Altamount when they killed that guy, remember?

Alvy: Yeah, were ya? I was...I was at an Alice Cooper thing where six people were rushed to the hospital with bad vibes.

The Connection

By way of introduction, the name's John and I'll be posting here on topics covered by approximately 3.8 million other bloggers. I am nothing if not original.

So...Let's get started. The photo below will remain on this blog until even Barack Obama gets it. I call it The Connection. If you have any doubts as to why we are fighting in Iraq, study this image closely. No, I'm not claiming this proves Saddam Hussein was in on the planning meetings. Although rumors do exist of his weekly lunch dates with bin Laden at the Happy Jihadi Cafe and Tapas Bar (now a Hooters) in downtown Baghdad. However, Hussein certainly appears pleased with the results, and has the expression of someone with a sense a pride over what the painting depicts. (And before you even say it, no, the painting is not a Karl Rove original. He's always had trouble sketching the human form, limiting himself to still-lifes and landscapes.)