In the eyes of his more... ummmmmmmmmm... excitable adherents and apologists hereabouts, Mittens is much like a cow wandering placidly through the streets of downtown Cairo: immune to any/all criticism and/or impediment by divine principle, if not an object of abject veneration outright.
The cow is holy. The cow is perfect. If the cow, for whatever reason(s) -- by whatever unguessable confluence of events, in the course of its dull, plodding amblings -- doesn't end up wherever the hell it was it wanted to go to in the first place: that's your fault, buddy, not the cow's.
Never, ever, EVER the sacred, wondrous cow's. ;)
You’ve lost your mind.