The Audacity of Obama Volunteers

I’ve been a Barack Obama supporter for more than a year, ever since he was rumored to be running for President. I’ve given money to his campaign. I’ve also volunteered for him. These were fairly pleasant experiences with only one major drawback: the other volunteers.

The first thing I noticed was the cheering. Between the incessant “FIRE IT UP! READY TO GO!” and the perfectly inane “YES WE CAN! YES WE CAN!” Barack Obama rallies often feel like attending summer camp in Maoist China.

In Los Angeles, Barack Obama got a big bump from the hipster community. These volunteers were the least obnoxious I encountered. Hipsters have emotional detachment down to an exact science.

Sadly, these were the exception. Most Obamanauts are inflicted with hypersensitive emotions. They love to cry, or talk about how they cried when they heard some Obama speech. They love to claim the moral high ground- except when they lose. I’ve personally witnessed three Primary/Caucus losses (California, Nevada, and Texas). Every single one of them was followed by accusations of voter fraud on the part of the HRC campaign.

We were pretty sad after our loss in Nevada. We all made our way back to headquarters, are heads hung low in defeat. In a vain attempt to pick up our spirits, the district head made a little speech. He fought back tears as he thanked us for our hard work, and took some shots at the Hillary campaign for “playing dirty.”

And then the volunteers started to speak. One by one, their mindless drivel was living proof that democracy is indeed a flawed mechanism. Then, a woman raised her hand. I couldn’t see her face, but she had the voice of a crazy person.

“At the caucus I attended, the vote went 150 to 50 for Hillary.” She said. “But afterwards, when it came time to clean up, about 70 percent were Obama supporters. I think that says a lot.”

This lunatic was claiming moral superiority as a result of winning the popular vote of the caucus clean-up team. A small part of my Obama enthusiasm died that very second, because I knew that in some way, that psychotic woman and I had a lot in common.