A Lightly Edited Letter to Senator Barack Obama,
Written November 27th, 2006
Christopher Loureiro
Senator Obama,
I’m a healthy, thin 22 year old college senior from Connecticut. I’ve never voted and am not even registered (although I lean to the left in more ways than one). I know nothing of politics besides the punchlines pulled from The Daily Show and The Colbert Report, of which I seldom watch. However, I feel it fitting that we have a little talk, heart to heart man to man.
I love really like you. I’ve caught you do Q & A’s on BookTv. I’ve seen you speak on several news channels. I’ve read about you in Time, U.S. News World Report, and various newspaper publications. You seem so honest and sincere and handsome in a world filled with lies and corruption and ugly people. You’re the only Democrat that has stood out from the pack, tall and shining like a beacon of hope for the entire country. People look up to you. I look up to you, and it’s hard for me to look up to anyone. Senator Obama, you just may be the perfect man political person we’ve seen since JFK.
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DON’T YOU FUCKING THINK ABOUT RUNNING FOR THE PRESIDENCY. Please don’t run for president.
Don’t even think about it Barack. I’m serious. I’ve seen what happens when someone asks you about the P-word. You sorta half smile, your cocoa colored cheeks turning rosy while your big, dark eyes suddenly shimmer with a great twinkle. I know that fucking twinkle. Don’t you think I don’t know what you’re up to. Don’t you dare twinkle again, or so help you God I’ll stab your eyes so they never ever twinkle and only cry your sweet red blood.
This is for your own good Barry. Everyone and their mother knows that you’re going to do it. You pussyfoot around the issue time and time again because you’re going to do it. You just want to come off as coy, shy, as if perhaps being the leader of the free world is just a bit much for the Big O you. Stop doing that – it’s way too charming. You are charming enough. When you do that it’s like a puppy suddenly finding his tail, and begins to happily chase it around and around. You’re a fucking puppy already! You don’t have to do anything else other than be a Goddamn puppy! it’s not good for you politically.
B-Unit Senator, if you run, you will win. It’ll be a huge landslide victory, and historians around the world will busily be scrawling the endings to their new yearly textbooks. The Republican regime will finally end with a cheer. People will rejoice, and dance in the streets singing that Ding Dong song from The Wizard of Oz. Newspapers around the world would declare a new Renaissance. The war in Iraq will come to a screeching halt and everyone there will settle their differences through grueling rounds of Bridge, while the North Koreans put all their nuclear power into producing consumer friendly jetpacks. The Beatles will reunite in a special Heaven and Earth concert in Central Park. Lost will finally start producing some answers. Things will be very good.
It’d be paradise - a sweet utopian moment when every single state on the map except for Alabama goes blue. They go blue for you. I’d definitely go blue for you. Oh God I’d go flaming blue for you. But you can’t do it. You can’t do it. You can’t do it. I know you want to do it. But you can’t do it. You’re dying to do it, because if you do it, all those things will happen. I know this for a fact. For about a day things will be pure bliss. And it’ll all seem worth it.
And then Michael Richards some white supremacist person will come leaping out of nowhere and lynch you.
He has it in for you BarBar Senator. The man is ape-shit and bat-shit insane. That’s two mammals and their insane shit! The man is crazy. We’ve seen him snap once already, and that was just at a comedy club. Imagine what would happen when he finds out a black man has been elected president! He would literally start to convulse, speak in tongues, and shake his way around to wherever you were in order to pound your handsome face into nothingness.
Normally I wouldn’t be worried, but Kramer is bigger than you, Bobo. And you just don’t fuck with someone bigger than you, especially if they’re as wacked out, coked up, fucking zany as Mike is. I don’t care how many secret service guys you got on you – he will find you, pop out of some door all quick-like, and punch you in the head like Billy Budd. And then it’ll all be over. The country will fall into shambles, all because you couldn’t fucking listen to me. but these people mean business.
So listen to me Obby. DON’T. RUN. Don’t even like, jog. Ever. Because if you do, that man will get you. He will get you and my heart will be broken forever. and it’ll be bad. Instead, just come move in with me. We will go on adventures, and I’ll never hurt you. I promise. stay a Senator. You can do much more good that way. I promise.
Love Always, Sincerely,
Christopher Loureiro
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