[sometime in the future … several years from now]
Obama’s publisher, Mohammed and Schuster, has announced a new book by former president Barack Obama. The image above shows an early draft of the book’s jacket, but wasn’t yet updated to show the latest title change and final artwork. A final cover image was not yet available at the time of this publication.
Barack Hussein Obama has been out of office for several years now and has been concerned about losing his top spot on the celebrity “A” list, so he (and Bill Ayers) wrote another book to maintain his relevancy and position at the pinnacle of celebrity-hood and to generate funds to help maintain his opulent lifestyle.
The current working title is “Allah Made Me Do It” and is reputedly an exposé wherein he confesses to numerous unconstitutional and illegal activities – some even traitorous – committed during his two terms as president.
Early teasers say that it will be a “tell all” blockbuster and certain to generate boatloads of money for the former president. He’ll admit to things that conservatives have accused him of doing, but could never prove. Some wonder why Obama would publically admit to numerous felonies – even treason. Wouldn’t that put him in jeopardy of prosecution?
Not really, because he made himself untouchable – he issued himself a get out of jail free card.
His last action as president was to issue a de facto pardon to himself for any crimes committed by him while in office, thereby rendering him immune from prosecution. He was creative, of course, and used his executive powers to redefine the statute of limitations relating to his possible crimes thereby avoiding any nasty constitutional squabble over granting a true pardon to himself.
And now, being immune from prosecution, his “tell all” book is just one more way of thumbing his nose at the laws and traditions of the United States and driving a stake through the heart of the country’s venerable Constitution.
In Chapter One, the book reveals for the first time that he really was born in Kenya and all of the documentation that was released to the public to prove his Hawaiian birth was fabricated by a team of DNC-hired Photoshop contractors.
He admits that he didn’t actually write his books either; none of them. Like his birth certificate, the books were fakes too. He hired Bill Ayers to create the fairy tales that painted a picture of him that would appeal to voters and help him get elected. He now admits that the caricatures were created by him and Bill while high on some killer weed and drinking rum and Red Bull. Practically all of the stories about Obama were fabrications, and both Dreams From My Father and The Audacity of Hope should have rightfully been labeled “gargantuan, extreme, I’m-not-shitting-you fiction.”
In a surprisingly candid admission, on page 77, Obama reveals that he mistakenly thought that Guantanamo Bay was a reference to a bay filled with bat guano (his Spanish wasn’t “no good”) with beaches where sunbathers could get more tan.
Thinking that a stinky bay would hurt property values on the beachfront options he held, he promised that one of his first actions as president would be to close Guantanamo. He’d do it by imposing a no-fly zone to keep the bats from dive-bombing more poop into the bay. He was later forced to admit that his own comments about closing Guantanamo were more guano-laden than the bay.
Chapter Two has another admission that shouldn’t be a surprise. Obama relied on Valerie Jarrett as a go-between between himself and his principal financial benefactor, George Soros. Jarrett took her orders from Soros and steered Obama in whatever direction that benefitted their boss (Soros).
Many had suspected as much, but the book contains an admission that Soros had been pulling his strings ever since he bailed Obama out of an embarrasing bathhouse incident while Obama was enrolled in Occidental College.
Soros bought off the local media and police to cover up Obama’s arrest during the raid of a gay bathhouse. Reports show that although Obama’s companion (a blow-up sheep doll named Baabaarella) was underage, he was not charged with statutory rape of a hooved animal since the ewe was not yet fully inflated.
Chapter Three is devoted to the attack at Benghazi. The president was oblivious to the attack since he was deeply involved with his personal body aide, Reggie Love, who was taking care of the president’s needs at the time. It was their “poker” night (even though playing poker with an Old Maid deck was a challenge), and it was decreed that they were not to be disturbed while “playing.”
He admits to being taken aback when told of the attack on our diplomatic compound and knew that the CIA’s sheep brothel (Embraceable Ewes) located in the Annex must remain secret at all costs. The brothel was funding his gun-running enterprise in Libya and must remain off the record. He recalls saying “Ewe Stand Down,” intending the statement to order the CIA to stop pimping the sheep until the coast was clear. But the order was mistaken as a “stand down” order by our military.
The result was that the sheep got some much needed rest and recuperation and four American citizens got slaughtered by terrorists. Obama viewed the incident like cat poop – it needed to be covered up else the stink would attach itself to him. He still maintains that it wasn’t his fault, he blamed it on those damned Liberians.
The publically blamed “demonstration” actually did happen, but it was not the protest of an inconsequential video. It was the result of locals getting angry and demonstrating their displeasure when the brothel shut down. They were simply horny, frustrated, and looking for four-legged, hooved companionship. Without the sheep (the goatistutes were on a sit-down strike), in the end all they had was each other. It was never good when they only had each other to turn to for “comfort.” They often fought about whose turn it was to be the Small Ruminant and who would be the herder.
In Chapter Four, he exposes his plan to disarm the populace. After agreeing to the United Nation’s Small Arms Treaty, he planned to offer a buy-back program to remove some guns painlessly. Shortly after the expiration of the buy-back program, he’d require that all small arms and ammunition be voluntarily turned in. Those refusing would be subject to severe punishments like, sponge baths and cuddle time with Ruth Bader Ginsburg (who was an especially horny old goat), nude hot tub soaks with Nancy Pelosi (she was grabby and had a grip like a vise), and spankings by Hillary Clinton (who was known to favor a Cat o’ Nine Tails).
He knew that compliance would be a problem since many of those 2nd Amendment-loving gun owners would refuse to give up their weapons without a fight.
He thought his solution was a stroke of genius. He could insure the creation of millions of high-paying jobs by hiring only white ATF agents to confiscate guns from those who refused to comply. He’d say that he was only hiring whites to atone for being overzealous in previous affirmative action hiring.
He knew that there would be a consistently high level of mortality in those jobs, resulting in an ongoing need for more deputies. Continually hiring more deputies would be good for the jobs picture and the high mortality rate of white deputies would also contribute to reducing the white population – a “two-fer” for Obama. And a fortunate byproduct was increasing the number of jobs available for black morticians.
Chapter Five reveals that he retained his Muslim roots throughout his entire life and did everything he could do to support his Muslim brothers while practicing Koran-authorized deception to fool the ignorant infidels populating the United States. He even considered reverting to his real name, Baraq al–Hussein bin–Obama but thought that the infidels might think that he was Muslim and he wasn’t ready to reveal his true identity or religion until after he left office.
Fooling the infidels was so easy. They believed anything he said. That was how he sold those ignorant rubes on Obamacare. Contrary to common sense and logic, and despite the figures that just didn’t add up, they bought his pipe dream, hook, line, and sinker. Obamacare (alias the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act) was secretly designed to be a malignant growth “eating” away the U.S. economy from the inside. His advisors had calculated that once fully implemented, it would only take 8-10 years for it to cripple the country’s economy and for the government to fail.
So he lied, and lied, and lied some more. And even when he got caught in a hat-trick of lies, he simply told them that their ears were lying to them; they didn’t hear what they thought they heard; that they were wrong. And because he lied with so much conviction, they apologized for mis-hearing him! That’s when he realized that he could do anything and get away with it.
Chapter Six is where Obama reveals that Allah made him do it. Or rather, Allah helped him do it.
In spite of his book’s title, deep inside Barack really felt that Allah only helped him do it; his outlandish ego wouldn’t accept that he couldn’t have done it on his own. He was The One that everyone had been waiting for, right? He was irrefutable, right? He was irreproachable, he was infallible and he was idolized, right? The “i’s” had it, maybe he really was a prophet in his own right? Maybe he really was the Messiah returning?
But all was not well in Obama’s world; he admitted another bitter disappointment when he recounts being troubled that he hadn’t been able to implement one of his lifelong dreams: a “final” solution that would even the playing field for his black half-bruthas and half-sistas. He thought that since blacks only comprised 13% of the population, their minority position didn’t give them a fair shake, and since natural procreation couldn’t increase the number of blacks fast enough, the only way to make the numbers more equal was by reducing the population of whites.
But a good solution evaded him.
He made a number of probing attempts to see what might work. He secretly introduced Ebola, and unfortunately that flopped. He tried Smallpox, thinking that since white men had smaller poxes than black men, it would only affect whites – he later learned that a “pox” was not what he thought it was. He armed black inner-city gangs and created the “knockout game,” and though blacks were wreaking havoc on white people, the white majority wasn’t being reduced fast enough. He tried to introduce hip-hop dancing thinking that because whites weren’t hip and couldn’t hop, they’d die trying. But that didn’t work either. Even putting up graffiti declaring “open season” on white folks in the inner city ghettos didn’t pan out, only a few more whites were bagged.
He needed to goad those ignorant white crackers into a revolt so he could thin the herd more quickly. A revolt would give him the excuse to shoot whites on sight, that is, if he could get his military to shoot civilians. Some generals had a misguided notion that they shouldn’t shoot civilians. He fired most of them and he was still trying to find a general (besides Eric Holder) who would willingly massacre whites.
He even considered luring elderly white grandparents into boxcars by promising them free transportation to government-provided retirement villas, complete with luxurious amenities. And then, during a welcoming presentation, he’d gas ‘em. They had no purpose, they weren’t productive, all they did was take, take, take. What good were they? They had outlived their usefulness. He would be doing everyone a service if he culled those wrinkled old fossils out of the population.
But he had a little concern that the gassing, followed by the ovens, had been tried before and it might get kind of messy. He could expect some objections – particularly from the gas-ees families.
But on the other hand, the building of large airtight gassing facilities and massive crematorium ovens all over the country would create lots of jobs and that would be one way to guarantee jobs to the millions of Transitional Visitors he invited to come in via our Southern border.
And so he remained melancholy about leaving his dream of a real solution to diversity unfulfilled.
Chapter Seven is centered on Global Warming or Climate Change or Planet Hot Flashes, or whatever it was called it that week. He had signed on to push Gore’s carbon credit scheme in return for a sizeable chunk of shares in Gorebull Warming Unlimited which was to be the central exchange that controlled the sales and issuance of carbon credits.
Though he considered Gore to be an inconsequential moron (the ONE thing that Obama was right about), he did admire the concept of selling worthless authorizations to companies for beaucoup bucks. True, the credits only allowed them to continue doing what they’d always done, but it was a great scheme to get rich. It was a lot like paying protection to the mob: “Nice power plant you got there, be a shame if the EPA shut it down …”
He admits that he is disappointed at the progress made – it was such a great idea. By now; he had expected to be a billionaire.
Undocumented Visitors were the subject of Chapter Eight. He resented that some called them “illegal aliens.” They couldn’t be illegal if HE invited them in, could they?
He made them legal when he said the words that would cement his place in history, “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. The border’s wide open, so send me some more.” He smiled every time he thought about it; knowing that he would go down in history for having authored those iconic words.
One of his last Executive Orders directed the INS to actually vet the incoming visitors and to allow the ones who agreed to vote for democrats to enter. They registered the visitors to vote and tattooed a voter number on their forearm. Those would be checked when they voted and anyone voting for a Republican would result in immediate deportation. They were now lifelong registered democrats. And considering that they were issued a card identifying them as newly registered democrats – they were no longer technically “undocumented.” He also issued an EO that specified that it was ok for one of these registered democrats to decide to change party affiliation – all they had to do was surrender their numbered forearm.
Those acts alone would insure that democrats would never lose another election.
And finally, many of the now-documented Transitional Visitors would remain in Texas and overwhelm the state’s infrastructure which accomplished another goal of his presidency – to give the presidential finger to that pesky POTUS wannabe, Governor Rick Perry and those ignorant Texican’ts. The Cloward-Piven strategy would give Obama the revenge he wanted.
In Chapter Nine, Obama discusses the subject of impeachment. He was never really concerned since he had so much ammunition on so many members of Congress – they wouldn’t dare.
One of Eric Holder’s first acts as Attorney General was to create a task force (code named “Whatchewup2”) that would fan out across the nation to gather information on members of Congress, both democrat and Republican. He would keep a dossier on each one. If push came to shove, the information could come in handy.
The Whatchew database contained candid snapshots, telephone recordings, emails, Tweets, Facebook screen captures, DNA samples, bank records, hotel and restaurant records, credit card data, and compromising videos – a treasure trove of material suitable for blackmail. And as it turned out, a subtle mention of a member’s indiscretion was often enough to convince the individual to rethink his or her objection and side with the president.
Among House members alone, Whatchew had evidence of 402 extra-marital affairs (some members had multiples), 77 homosexual affairs (not that there’s anything wrong with that), 121 occasions of bestiality, 266 alcoholics, 40 addicted to drugs, 98 wife-beaters, 202 cases of inappropriate behavior with pages and interns, 12 devil worshipers, 14 cases of statutory rape, 78 cases of forcible rape, 112 who were bankrupt and in financial trouble, 401 with outstanding federal tax liabilities and 88 who almost never bathed or changed their underwear.
The Senate was even worse. They were mostly older and some had been in office for decades. Their peccadillos were even more numerous and more serious than the House members; he had them all in his pocket. Mitch McConnell couldn’t take a crap without Obama’s approval. If he wanted to really pressure them, he could get a 100-0 vote for anything, anytime he wanted.
It was good to be the king.
He planned to hang onto that material after he left the White House; you never knew when it might become useful.
In the final chapter (Chapter Ten), he explores the transition from being President of the United States into Barry Obama, “ordinary” citizen. But Barry would never be “ordinary.” He was truly extra ordinary. What ordinary man could fool almost 70 million people into voting for them for president the first time with a resume that would be weak if running for State Representative.
He did it again when he ran for reelection and almost 66 million voted for him – even though he had increased the deficit, destroyed the job market, antagonized our allies and bowed to our enemies, doubled the national debt, got caught lying multiple times, and a number of other transgressions that would have sunk a lesser president. And yet, by some miracle of legerdemain (and no small amount of voter fraud), against all odds, he won again.
Obama admits that he had help, all the way back to Frank Marshall Davis and the Ayers family, his Palestinian friends, Emil Jones, and many other unnamed friends who prefer to remain in the background. He owed so much to so many, but he had repaid them many times over with appointments, influence with governmental agencies, and insider information. All were now millionaires and owed him much.
In his final chapter, Obama doesn’t mince words. While many helped and supported him, most of the credit belonged to HIM, he did it himself. Yes, they helped, but he could have done it without them. In this case, he DID build that – he built a dynasty in the form of his Whatchewup2 database that held thousands of bits of blackmail information that would keep him in the money and on the tip of every political junkie’s tongue forever. In fact, YOU had better be careful of what YOU say about Mr. Obama, he just might have some “uncomfortable” information on YOU.
It was good to have been the king.