Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh...we’re digging deep now!
These kind of stories only come out when one of the other candidates is worried. VERY worried.
Trump?
Cruz?
Sounds like the Barney Frank defense when he did not know his lover was running a gay whorehouse in the basement of his house.
Wow. Either someone’s oppo research has truly gotten deranged, or we are seeing an effort to destroy Ted Cruz who without a doubt will get blamed for this. Time will tell.
smells like a Ted Cruz hit a la Ben Carson dropping out.
Cruz campaign made a mistake with the Carson thing in particular, since now every time something slimy breaks, everyone is going to think of their guy. That gives other players, say, BUSH BACKERS, carte Blanche to say anything they want to try to kill two birds with one stone.
If this IS the Cruz campaign...
Wow.
Funny that the only things ever written (’typed’ is a better word) by our current President, are poems about homosexual pedophily and the press has been unable to find these writings, never mind report on them.
Obama was once the President of the Harvard Law Review - a prestigious literary magazine. In fact, he was the first President of that esteemed periodical that never published a single article.
He did, however, publish two poems while a foreign student at Occiental - one callee ‘Pop’ - a gay poem about a homosexual relationship with an older man. (FACT!)
Here it is:
âPopâ
Sitting in his seat, a seat broad and broken
In, sprinkled with ashes,
Pop switches channels, takes another
Shot of Seagrams, neat, and asks
What to do with me, a green young man
Who fails to consider the
Flim and flam of the world, since
Things have been easy for me;
I stare hard at his face, a stare
That deflects off his brow;
Iâm sure heâs unaware of his
Dark, watery eyes, that
Glance in different directions,
And his slow, unwelcome twitches,
Fail to pass.
I listen, nod,
Listen, open, till I cling to his pale,
Beige T-shirt, yelling,
Yelling in his ears, that hang
With heavy lobes, but heâs still telling
His joke, so I ask why
Heâs so unhappy, to which he repliesâ¦
But I donât care anymore, cause
He took too damn long, and from
Under my seat, I pull out the
Mirror Iâve been saving; Iâm laughing,
Laughing loud, the blood rushing from his face
To mine, as he grows small,
A spot in my brain, something
That may be squeezed out, like a
Watermelon seed between
Two fingers.
Pop takes another shot, neat,
Points out the same amber
Stain on his shorts that Iâve got on mine, and
Makes me smell his smell, coming
From me; he switches channels, recites an old poem
He wrote before his mother died,
Stands, shouts, and asks
For a hug, as I shrink, my
Arms barely reaching around
His thick, oily neck, and his broad back; âcause
I see my face, framed within
Popâs black-framed glasses
And know heâs laughing too.
The poem reads autobiographical â about a young Obamaâs relationship with a much older man whom he calls Pop. In his article for WND on March 7, 2012, Dr. Jack Cashill singles out this passage from the poem:
âPop takes another shot, neat/ Points out the same amber/ Stain on his shorts that Iâve got on mine, and/ Makes me smell his smell, coming/ From me;â
Cashill writes that the most innocent explanation for the âamber stainâ on the shorts of Pop and young Obama or âhis smell, coming/ From meâ is that Pop got the teenaged Obama drunk, and they both spilled whiskey (Seagrams) on themselves. But that interpretation does not explain why the spill is specifically on their shorts and not on their shirts or how Popâs smell is also on (âfromâ) Obama.
A marriage and family therapist who blogs under the tag âNeo-Neoconâ senses a darker relationship. She writes:
âThe lines that begin âpoints out the same amber stainâ¦Makes me smell his smell, coming/â¨From meâ may be describing outright sexual abuse. But perhaps not; we donât know, and weâll never know. But there is no question that the poem is describing a boundary violation on several levels: this child feels invadedâperhaps even taken overâby this man, and is fighting against that sensation.
[...] The poem describes a boundary violation that is both physical and mental.The physical is obvious: he is forced to hug the man who repels him, and as he does so he feels himself shrinking. But the violation is mental, too; earlier in the poem, Obama has described âPopâ as a person who has actually gotten into his brain, and whom he wishes to eliminate from it:
as he grows small,â¨
A spot in my brain, somethingâ¨
That may be squeezed out, like a â¨
Watermelon seed betweenâ¨
Two fingers.
This mental and emotional usurpation of the young Obama is echoed in the last image of the poem, in which the boy sees his own tiny image framed in âPopâsâ eyeglasses.⨠The poem describes a struggle against an attempt at identity takeover, a rejection of being reduced to a reflection in the eyes of the stronger, older, more experienced mentor, who has tried to make Obama over in his own image:
I see my face, framed within
Popâs black-framed glassesâ¨â¦
The sight is chilling to Obama, who is trying to break free. One wonders if he ever fully succeeded.â
So who was Pop?