Obama's speeches are chilling to me ... almost malevolent
Obama’s Speeches Chilling
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The crowd was roaring. The lone man, ramrod straight, in his impeccable brown uniform would step forward toward the lectern, then pause and let his eyes wander over the thousands of up turned faces—all staring at him, waiting for him to speak. And they waited—and they waited.
The man at the lectern made no effort to speak. He just stood there, almost motionless, and didn’t say a word.
A wave of anxiety, nervousness, began to sweep through the crowd of expectant listeners. The noise level began to recede. Soon the roar of the crowd was gone completely. The crowd became quiet and motionless, a reflection of the man they had come expecting to hear speak.
A full sixty seconds would expire before that man would take the one remaining step to the lectern, and begin speaking.
At first he spoke softly forcing his audience to strain to hear his words. Then little by little he would increase the volume of his voice until finally he was shouting and gesticulating in a near maniacal manner. His audience was worked up to a fever pitch ready and willing to do his bidding, no matter the consequences.
Those of you reading this now, if you are near my age, know exactly of whom I speak—Adolf Hitler. He was a master at oratory. He was a master actor. He was a master at manipulating his fellowman. He was a master at dealing death and destruction. He was a master at destroying nations and nearly destroyed the world.
Watching a film clip of one of his speeches today sends chills racing up and down my spine. It is as though just the sound of his voice invokes evil.
He was, quite likely, the greatest orator of the 20th century.
Here in the 21st century, we have another great orator. He, too has to power to move his listeners to act while disregarding consequences. He, too, has worshipers—some who even refer to him as “Lord and Master.”
His Name is Barack Hussein Obama. And he is President of the United States of America. And he scares the hell out of me!
If you look at the faces in one of Hitler’s crowds and compare them to the faces in Obama’s crowds, you will see the same worship of their speaker. But look closely. Look at the eyes. Do you see it? Do you see the vacant, “the lights are on, but nobody’s home” look reflected in those eyes? It’s the look that makes those tiny little hairs on the back of your neck tingle and stand up. That’s primal fear, honed to perfection by our ancestors while they still lived in caves.
Trust it. It is telling you: “Something is dreadfully wrong.”
If you could look BEHIND those blank stares, I feel certain to you would see something else, too. Raw fear. It’s the sane part of the human mind fighting to regain control. Worshipers always fear—and eventually begin to question.
Given a choice, I will not listen to an Obama speech. I get the same feeling I would get if told the Battle of Armageddon had begun. Bells and whistles begin going off in the Amygdala of my brain, the part of the brain that controls one’s “flight or fight” reaction. That’s our caveman ancestors banging on our door in the middle of the night yelling “FIRE!”
Be afraid. Be very afraid. No mere mortal should have that kind of power over his fellow human beings. It is too easily misused. It is raw power—and it is corruptible.
Obama’s speeches are chilling to me ... almost malevolent. It’s as though he is using his voice, his tsunami of words, to misdirect the gaze of his worshipers away from all that is not right with America toward a utopian facade of an America that, in reality, does not exist—and never will.
Encouraging worshipers is never a good idea for mere mortals. As we said above worshipers will eventually begin to ask questions. Sooner or later they will ask the right question and receive the true answer. At which point the “worshipee” is in deep trouble. That mindless crowd can turn on a dime and produce pitchforks and torches that light the night in hate and violence all directed at the one who deceived them. History is replete with records of just such behavior played out time and again. The fate of Benito Mussolini springs instantly to mind.
Often less is, indeed, more. My father was a man of few words. As a result, when he spoke, the family listened. We knew that even though he did not speak often, when he did—it was important—and usually well thought out. When he had finished, he had finished. No force on earth could change his mind. I admired that, growing up as a lad, and I still do.
As I have grown older I have noticed that my world has been slowing down while the world around me has shifted into hyper drive. The voices I hear from the hyper drive world now are loud, reverberating, penetrating, harsh, crude, insistent, and aggravating. And I am continuing to learn how to shut them out and listen for that “still, small, voice” of authority (1 Kings 19:11-13—The Old Testament) asking: “What are YOU doing here, J. D.?”
It would seem that we have not yet learned that the answer is not carried upon the waves of loud flowery oratory regaling us, and misdirecting us, with all the right “answers” to all our problems. Instead, it is within moments of quiet introspection when the still small voice is heard—just above a whisper—but with the gravitas of endless universes.