Obama's Disciples, Their Faith and Dogma

No doubt, Barry Obama's supporters are earnest and passionate about their guy. There are those that worry, though, that this passion is rooted primarily in a visceral, emotional attachment to the abstract, amorphous idea of Barry Obama. The idea of who this man is and why he was (obviously) sent to us from the right hand of God the Father is different for everyone, unique to each individual supporter, and really only constitutes his or her personal passions, which they project onto their blank-slate/empty-suit savior.

Stating that fact breaks no new ground, though, so I won't belabor the point. But this idea becomes a bit funny when set alongside an old favorite poem, Evolutionary Hymn by C.S. Lewis. Replace the word "Evolution" with "Barry Obama" and you get an eerily accurate, satirical description of Obama's community of supporters (or, the Early Church, you could say):

Lead us, Evolution, lead us
Up the future’s endless stair,
Chop us, change us, clip us, weed us,
For stagnation is despair:
Groping, guessing, yet progressing,
Lead us nobody-knows-where.

To what variation
Our posterity may turn,
Hairy, squashy, or crustacean,
Bulbous-eyed or square of stern,
Bland or ruthless, tusked or toothless,
Towards that unknown god we yearn.

Ask not ‘Is he god or devil?’
Brethren, lest your words imply
Static norms of good or evil
Throned immutable on high;
Such a dated, antiquated
Mode of thought we must defy.

Since the goal of our endeavour
Has no content, form, or name,
No position, we can never
(Happy warriors!) miss our aim;
Since improvement means just movement,
All directions are the same.

Far too long have sages vainly
Glossed great Nature’s simple text;
He who runs can read it plainly,
Goodness = what comes next.
By evolving, Life is solving
All the questions we perplexed.

On then! Value means survival–
Value. If our progeny
Spreads and spawns and licks each rival,
That will prove its deity
(Far from pleasant, by our present
Standards, though it well may be).