I first thought to post this in the humor forum, but it shows the type of college nitwits that are going to be voting. Gotta a be a moonbat from DUmmie land!! Or is it eyelid!?:eek:

The rest of the idiocy here

Maggie Mertens

Obama is my homeboy. And I'm not saying that because he's black - I'm saying that in reference to those Urban Outfitters t-shirts from a couple years ago that said, "Jesus is my homeboy." Yes, I just said it. Obama is my Jesus.

While you may be overtly religious and find this to be idol-worshipping, or may be overtly politically correct and just know that everything in that sentence could be found offensive, I'm afraid it's true anyway.

As with many spiritual enlightenments, mine came in the middle of a bleak, hopeless period of my life. The innocent, idealistic world of politics that had shaped my childhood, the one that taught me how the president is a good guy, one who makes you feel safe, gives a speech on TV every once in a while and one you'd feel honored to shake hands with, had been slowly whittled into a deep rooted cynicism to anything politically related.

The crush of the Bush victory over Gore was only the first mar on my previously consummate ideal of the American administration. And the tragedies just kept continuing: Bush's response to the Sept.11 attacks, the invasion of Iraq, the tax cuts for the rich, the downward spiral continued squashing my scant hope that the political world and state of our country could be saved.

Then I found my miracle. Stumbling through my hopeless world, afraid to turn to anyone with my political questions of morality, my concerns about the afterlife of the country I called home, a voice spoke to me.

Barack Obama bore to me his testimony in 2004 at the Democratic National Convention, a testimony that included believing in concepts as simple and wholesome as the Constitution; a belief the current administration had done away with entirely. I was 17 and my antipathy for politicians was already in place before I had even reached the age to legally vote for one. He, though, seemed different. I was intrigued. I would follow him. I believed however, that my discipleship would lead me on a much longer path to political change than was true. He was much too young, not white enough, not rich enough, not jaded - the country certainly wasn't ready for this, maybe in 12 or 16 years he would be able to run in the Democratic primary, I thought.