Barackosis

In just five days, incredible tales of Obamamania have spread across the land like acne on a teenager’s back. A bakery conjures up Obama cupcakes, a British director – recovering from a bout of sobriety – produces a play about our luscious President – and a scientist has created “nanobamas” – likenesses of the Messiah on material a tiny fraction of the width of a human hair.

What we are seeing is not normal, friends – but reflections of a disease – what I call “Barackosis” and it’s worse than swine flu, bird flu and sleeping with David Geffen combined. Imagine a disorder that blends the earnestness of global warming theology with the compulsion of internet porn – creating a relentless need to remind yourself how great it was that you voted for Obama – over and over until your hands are blood-raw from patting yourself on the back.

In a way, Barackosis is exactly like Bush Derangement Syndrome – in that it offers its victims an emotional commitment to a person without having to closely examine that person’s ideas. It’s why Bush-haters refuse to see what the man did for Africa – and why Obama-lovers cannot make heads or tails out of what their man believes in. Even more, Barackosis means you don’t have to figure out where the bail-out money went, what’s in the stimulus package, or who the hell Carol Browner is.

Hint: she’s really bad.

The worst thing about Barackosis? The media isn’t reporting on it – because they’re afflicted by it. Remember the good old days when the press exaggerated health scares – like mercury in your fillings or autism caused by vaccines? Now, with their predictable alarmism ravaged by illness – they roam in a zombie-like state – unable to diagnose their very own suffering.

I would cry, but it would only make my Obama Smokey Grey Mascara run. Thankfully, I applied a hint of highlighting gloss and a shade of pear as a shout out to hope and change.

I hope you like it!