Roman Around

combating liberalism and other childish notions

FLASHBACK: THE “OBAMA IN FORT MYERS” STORY – A TALE FROM THE DAWN OF THE MESSIANIC AGE

Posted by Andrew Roman on April 25, 2010

In February, 2009 – not even a month into the Messianic Age – the President made a visit to Southwest Florida. He was at his “savior-of-all-mankind” apex, when his mere presence provoked the kind of adulation reserved for Beatles and Popes. This was the era when people would show up at Obama rallies thinking that by simply looking at him, they’d suddenly have the answers. This was the era when folks believed Obama would find a way to pay their rents for them and keep the lights on.

Here’s a little piece I penned at the time, originally posted on 11 February, 2009:

Nearly one-third of the Fort Myers, Florida police department was assigned to “body removal patrol” – that is, clearing away those who had fainted. Fully one-half of all EMT personnel in Lee, Collier and Charlotte counties were called in to resuscitate those for whom the whole event was too much. From Southwest Regional Airport, all the way to the Harborside Events Center where HE spoke last evening, all along the route – and for three miles in each direction off his motorcade path – businesses were ordered closed, residents were ordered to leave, pets rounded up and kept out of sight, and nearly thirty-two million people lined the streets to get a glimpse of HIM.

On Daniels Road, thousands were seen licking the black top where HIS limo had driven passed. Others were stretched across the median crying loudly, flailing their arms, while others wept silently. All along HIS travel route, worshippers struggled to break security lines so that they might inhale some of the exhaust fumes coming from HIS car. One even wrapped herself in a giant burrito and covered herself in sour cream and picante sauce and dangled herself from a “Yield” sign on US 41 when she heard that HE liked tex mex. The blind and physically handicapped were brought to the parking lot of the Harborside Events Center to touch full-color Xerox copies of HIS image. The deaf were allowed to watch a young man wearing a rubber Obama mask communicate articulately in sign language the way HE might do if he couldn’t hear.

Before HIS arrival, devotees were ushered in by the droves, from all walks of life, from the very sick to the young and healthy, wearing “Obama Is King” t-shirts, carrying “Heal Me Obama” signs, wearing “Bend me, Shape me, Obama Baby” buttons. Some were seen pulling in their Bam-O-Matic Messiah Brand dialysis machines and diabetes test kits. As many as two-hundred million Americans crammed into the Publix parking lot across the street and into the field behind the Circle K adjacent to the venue to be able to say they exhaled the very carbon dioxide that fed the palm tree by the back entrance of the building where HE was going to conduct a townhall meeting.

The excitement was immeasurable. In the aisles, obstetricians were inducing labor on pregnant women so that HIS voice would be the first their babies heard upon entering the world. The dead were exhumed and wheeled in so that HE might inject life into them. Hundreds of children were singing songs of praise to HIM in four thousand different languages. The swimming pool in the center of the arena was cleaned one last time so that HE would have unsullied water to walk on during HIS presentation. MSNBC’s Chris Matthews was seen picking out Drake’s Coffee Cake crumbs from the grill of the microphone HE would use (Michael Moore spoke there the night before), while Keith Olbermman had wads of Charmin Ultra Soft bathroom tissue wound up in hand and at the ready should HE need to visit the facilities.

Just moments before HE made his appearance, the roof of the venue opened up to sounds of clapping thunder so deafening that the dead began to stir. Forty-four streaks of lightning then came from the heavens, illuminating the night sky with a brilliance the likes of which had not been seen by human eyes until then. The audience at once fell to its knees as a beam of paisley hot light rose from the depths of the swimming pool, morphing into a violent red vortex of flame, eventually reaching through the open roof, into the night sky, beyond the clouds.

More sounds of calamitous thunder echoed across Lee County and into the Gulf of Mexico as HE appeared.

At first no one dared to lay eyes upon HIM until HE said that they all were permitted to look.

He told them to raise their eyes, and they did.

The applause lasted eleven hours, eighteen minutes.

As President Barack Obama eventually began to speak, nearly thirteen thousand women lost consciousness instantaneously. Another ten thousand – including men – became woozy from constantly mouthing the words “I love you, Barack” over and over again. Tears flowed down every cheek in the hall.

Paraplegics stood up.

The halitosis-inflicted had minty fresh breath.

They came to see HIM, to sniff HIM, to be hugged by HIM, to have their gaping wounds touched by HIM, to have their electricity bills paid by HIM, to have their homes financed by HIM, to have their food supplied by HIM, to have their infections cleansed by HIM, to have their souls healed by HIM, and to ask HIM questions.

And they did.

Q: “Mr. Obama, why?”

A: “Uh .. because.”

Q: “Mr. One, how can I be a better person?”

A: “Uh .. you definitely can.”

Q: “Mr. President, things are tough for me. Can you pay my mortgage?”

A: “Let me hug you.”

Q: “Oh Great Obama, does this shirt make me look fat?”

A: “There are no fat cats here.”

Q: “Do you love us? Will you save us?”

A: “I won.”

Q: “Can you give me stuff?”

A: “Yes we can.”

HE fielded six thousand, two-hundred seventeen questions at the Harborside Events Center in Fort Myers, Florida last evening – and shared his tongue and onion sandwich with everyone who came to see him.

When it was all said and done – after all the waffles had been eaten, and long after the last healed cripple jogged home to wait by the mailbox for his stimulus check – The One spoke to reporters about what was truly a magnificent evening, saying, “Are you the Huffington Post guy? Or is it that gay looking dude?”

One thing is for certain … He left an everlasting impression upon those who came by car service and Subaru to see him.

Next up at the Harborside Events Center, the Frank Cox Gem and Jewelry Show, February 13-15, 2009.

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