Obama the Repo Man

Cezanne painted most of his masterpieces as a senior. Woody Allen still cranks out a movie each year though he's in his 70's. McCain at 72 and Ron Paul at 73 held their own on the campaign trail.

Quadriplegic Christopher Reeve inspired the world with his courage and perseverance. FDR, though disabled with polio, served three terms in office. JFK appeared in perfect health, but was often debilitated by an adrenal disease.

And then there are the countless anonymous folks living lives of quiet dignity though aged or ill. Grandparents who still travel and play tennis; women who keep their small room clean and tidy in an assisted care facility. The girl with Down's Syndrome whose smile lights up the neighborhood.

We all know people like this. Maybe we are people like this. I know I am: I am over 50, and I struggle with a chronic medical condition.

If you live in your heart, you look around and see the kaleidoscope of humanity. People of different abilities, ages, challenges all trying to live happy and meaningful lives.

But if you don't live in your heart, if you live in your ideology, then your eyes see a different reality. You divide the world up into those who can serve the state and those who cannot.

In the world of Obama and his friends, there are able bodied people who can be used. Then there are the clunkers, the parasites and sponges. The welcome mat has been pulled out from under us; the Statue of Liberty is sinking.

For Obama, the only needy people are the invented victims, casualties of what Michelle Obama has deemed a "mean country." These sufferers deserve special status and help; for the rest of us, the sands of time may be running out.

People often say that Obama is a ham, who relishes the limelight. I question this. I actually think that his love of the camera is an act, just another page lifted from the Left's rule book. It's what all socialist/communist regimes do: foster dependence on the Leader; plaster his face everywhere. Make it all Obama, all the time.

I actually don't think Obama likes people very much. He enjoys playing Messiah, the Savior. But real, live human beings -- no.

Humans are polluters, "cancers," as Simone de Beauvoir, a famous lefty, called us. All we've done is pillage and destroy and oppress. We take up space on earth for no good reason.

Obama and his friends are the ultimate Repo Men. They want to recall our income, liberty, and freedom, because they don't think we deserve it. If they control our health care, they may repossess our very lives.

The country is in an uproar because we oppose the government accumulating so much power. We want to preserve our private relationship with our physicians. But it's more than this: we don't want people controlling our bodies who detest us. Only a fool would have coronary bypass surgery by a physician who long ago lost his heart.

Obama and his cohorts smile and charm; but it's an elaborate masquerade. They feel nothing but contempt. Rev. Wright bellowed, "God Damn America," when 3,000 of our citizens died. Bill Ayers and his wife Bernardine Dohrn beseeched youth to go home and kill their parents, and they admired Charles Manson.

I've heard speeches by Michelle Obama that emanate hostility. Obama's Science Czar advocates putting sterilizer in the water and implanting us with birth control devices -- that's how much he despises humans.

One of the most callous of Obama's friends is Zeke Emanuel, Rahm's brother, who is shaping health care reform. A doctor, Zeke mocks the Hippocratic Oath, which he considers as retro as an Edsel.

Zeke calls himself a "communitarian," and believes health care policy should enforce "social justice." His twisted views: the young and healthy should go to the head of the line, and health care should be eliminated for most of the disabled, for instance, people with dementia.

All socialist/communist regimes operate with the same mindset. People are disposable like pieces of a machine, to be trashed when the parts start showing wear. Humans are interchangeable things, with price tags hanging from our arms.

They pretend to be caring, selfless souls, but their arrogance is so grotesque it borders on delusion. Here's Zeke from August's Psychology Today: "In my family, trying to change the world is high on our priority list." Growing up, his family would brainstorm how to solve all of the world's problems. "No harebrained idea went unsupported."

Why in the world would the Powers that Be value an endangered lizard more than us? Because they look at the world through the lens of resentment and rage and only see good and bad, black and white. In their distorted world, there is no Truth, no Higher Power, no "time for every season under heaven."

There is no karma to work out, no crosses to bear, no grand design. The world is absurd, and they must reconstruct it, engineer a new and improved Genesis. Because they reside in the miserable, illogical world of the Self, they have no other path to redemption.

The person of faith beholds the world through the eyes of the Divine -- in brilliant, electrifying technicolor. For him or her, life is a mystery to be lived, not a problem to be solved, as Kierkegaard, a profoundly religious man, phrased it.

I heard a lovely tale once about a convent at risk of closing because there were so few younger nuns taking vows. A nun traveled to a nearby village to ask the Mother Superior for assistance. The Mother said that this was a common problem and she had no guidance. Disappointed, the nun started to leave when the Mother added, "One thing I do know, though, is that Jesus lives among you in your convent."

When the nun returned and recounted the Mother's words, each sister was greatly affected. One nun's thoughts went like this, "Who could be Jesus? It couldn't be Sister Mary; she can be very terse. But then again, Sister Mary was so loving to me when my mother died. Maybe it is Sister Mary.

"I know it couldn't be me. I am such a simple nun. But then again, I am quite good with the children. Maybe it's me!"

As each nun started beholding each other, and themselves, as holy, they became transformed. The townspeople noticed the changes, and soon there were many young women coming to the convent to bask in the nuns' warmth and love. Before long, there were many new nuns taking vows, and the convent was saved.

When you view people as bodies that are utilitarian and disposable, your heart is as absent as the cold, metal tin man's in the Wizard of Oz. You are like the condemned souls in Dante's Inferno whose punishment was to never know God. To hide the emptiness, you try desperately to control the world.

But if you live in the Divine, then every day is a miracle, and human lives are precious gifts to be guarded and protected like newborn babes.

So, who is the next poet among us? The next artist, scientist, builder, adoring parent?

Is it your grandchild whose laughter is brighter than the most incandescent star? Is it your mother, trying so valiantly to live on without her husband? Is it the girl with Down's Syndrome who lights up the neighborhood with her smile?

But one thing I am certain of: it is the height of hubris and moral blindness for the Powers that Be to dare to determine this for us.

A frequent contributor to AT, Robin is a recovering liberal and psychotherapist in Berkeley