A waxen clone of President Obama recently made a tour of San Francisco Bay last year. Can we really be so sure that this clone was the only one?
In a recent White House interview, President Obama's mask slipped.
He was chatting calmly with CNBC's John Harwood while a housefly wandered around the room, intending no harm to anyone. And then, just like that, the president moved with blinding -- one might say unbelievable -- speed and killed the insect that had landed on his arm.
No human moves that quickly.
Obama foes get a bad rap. They're called wingnuts and paranoiacs when their opponents are feeling generous; racists and xenophobes when they're not. But not in a million years would his detractors have thought to question whether he was entirely human.
And because a slight majority of Americans fell for his campaign promises of "change," the whole nation is now stuck with a president who does indeed represent a change from 200-odd years of tradition.
We have our first cyborg president, and we have only ourselves to blame.
Think about it. He's known for being cool and emotionless. He shows an uncommon affection for mechanical equipment such as teleprompters. And when he's backed into a rhetorical corner, he almost invariably responds with some variation of "the stakes are too high, the challenges too great" -- just like an anxious robot would.
So to all those people who want Obama to produce his birth certificate, consider this: the question of whether or not he was born in the United States is irrelevant. Let's first focus on whether or not he was "born" at all.