Is The Press A Slumbering Giant?

It is hard to tell really, perhaps this is just a violent episode of REM.

Regardless, some little desired hints are coming out now that the election is over about the soon to be crowned King of the United States--little desired, that is, by The Obama himself and his worshiping media, that might lead us to believe that Obama is not quite as unsullied as has been reported.

Two weeks ago the press assured us that the Barack Obama and Bill Ayers relationship was non existent outside of unfortunate house geography and an occasional dinner party. He was, from Obama's lips to the news pages and NPR, just some guy in the neighborhood.

Just two weeks ago Obama was a hardliner with Hamas.

Just two weeks ago Barack Obama was only an occasional visitor to the the heralded halls of the Trinity United Church of Christ in Chicago. The Jeremiah Wright that Barack Obama knew was not the one that showed such popularity on various YouTube videos.

Now that the election is safely over the trickle of information has begun. Will the American electorate be able to register what is now coming out since the consciousness of most voters is already choked with vivid recollections of tanning bed and wardrobe misconduct committed by the imperialist Empress of mean spirited right-wing Rethuglicans, Sarah Palin, and the drug gobbling spouse of dictator wanna be John McCain?

Barack Obama's closet is so full of skeletons that it might take years for a casual main stream press to finally dig them all out (armed as they are for the task with only plastic sporks for the excavation.) Barack Obama pursued these skeletal relationships, some of them out of innocence and others out of zealous political opportunism. That they were so thoroughly ignored as long as they were is really quite remarkable; not remarkable in the sense that an army of cloned idiots couldn't stick to the narrative, but remarkable that the press, as an industry that should attempt to remain economically viable, has allowed itself to become so infiltrated.

Every politician has skeletons. Sometimes it takes teams of rabid reporters descending on the frozen tundra of Alaska to unearth the bones. Other times the skeletons are allowed to tap dance in the kitchen or behind a pulpit while political campaigns are launched and philosophies are formed, without so much as a single reporter bothering to peek inside. Priorities I suppose.

Now that the media's man is going to take up residence in the White House, can we expect the press to wake up?