Ghost Writer: Ayers – or Obama?

If you think about it, perhaps Jack Cashill is trying to saddle the wrong horse.  In his American Thinker blog entry, Ayers affirms he wrote Dreams from my Father; Cashill described an incident at Montclair State University,  in which, William Ayers admitted authorship of  the Barack Obama’s best seller, Dreams from My Father.  Cashill has long suspected Ayers as the literary genius behind the work – and not Obama.  He presents   strong evidence for this assertion in his own book, Deconstructing Obama.  Cashill highlights the similarity with the use of metaphors and writing style between Obama’s book and Ayers lesser known, Fugitive Days.  Since most Americans accept the literary genius of Barack Obama and the evidence clearly indicates that one writer is the central influence for both pieces, the question to ponder is: who was the single author of these two acclaimed manuscripts?  Well if you examine the facts; Barack Obama is the President of the United States.  He has been touted by his supporters and the media as the most intellectual president the country has ever elected.  He is a Nobel Peace Prize recipient.  He has a Harvard Law Degree.  Now consider, does Bill Ayres have multiple best sellers?  Does he fly on Air Force One around the globe addressing world crisis?  Does he have a Nobel Peace Prize?  Does he have an Ivy League pedigree?  After answering those questions, why would Bill Ayres dare claim authorship of Barack Obama’s book?  Maybe it’s a cry for attention? 

But what if Cashill is, unknowingly, attempting to saddle the wrong horse?  What if Obama is – the man behind the words?  And what if Obama is actually a ghost writer – a ghost writer for William Ayers work, Fugitive Days?  What if Bill was sitting at his dining room table one night, papers scatter all about, and Barack knocked on the door to borrow a cup of sugar.  What if Obama saw the frustration on Ayers face and in a neighborly fashion, sat down to lend a hand?  What if after nights of sifting through the raw material at hand, one night the table of scattered papers had transformed into a neatly stacked manuscript ready for the publisher?

What if, in 1965 at the Ann Arbor pizzeria picket line incident; young William was simply on his way to pick up a pizza which his fraternity brothers had ordered – and he had accidentally gotten mixed in with the crowd of protesters?  What if on the day he was alleged to have joined the Weatherman Underground, he was actually waiting in front of the library for his friend to pick him up?  And what if as the Weatherman van pulled up to the stop light in front of the library, little Billy hopped into the van – thinking it was the van for which he had been waiting?  What if William Ayers isn’t the evil radical mastermind of 60’s notoriety?  What if, Bernardine is Cher – and Billy is Sonny?   What if, his entire life has been just a set of unfortunate circumstances?   Just a young boy always in the wrong place, at the wrong time, influnced by the wrong people.  What if it had been  a Sarah Palin type family, whose van  into which young Willaim jumped?  Would we have had a Blind Side type twist in his life’s direction?

What if, life is like a box of jelly donuts – one wrong bite and it’s all in your lap.   It’s a terrible thing to have jelly all in your lap – especially while the whole world is watching?

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