Once upon a time I was invited to the White House for a private dinner with
the President of the U.S..

I am a respected businessman, with a factory that produces memory chips for
computers and portable electronics.

There was some talk that my industry was being scrutinized by the
administration, but I paid it no mind. I live in a FREE country. There's
nothing that the government can do to me if I've broken no laws. My wealth
was EARNED honestly, and an invitation to dinner with an American President
is an honor.

I checked my coat, was greeted by the Chief of Staff, and joined Obama in a
yellow dining room. We sat across from each other at a table draped in
white linen. The Great Seal was embossed on the china. Uniformed staff
served our dinner. The meal was served, and I was startled when my waiter
suddenly reached out, plucked a dinner roll off my plate and began nibbling
it as he walked back to the kitchen.. "Sorry 'bout that," said the Obama.
"Andrew is very hungry."

"I don't appreciate..." I began, but as I looked into the calm brown eyes
across from me, I felt immediately guilty and petty. It was just a dinner
roll. "Of course," I concluded, and reached for my glass. Before I could,
however, another waiter reached forward, took the glass away and swallowed
the wine in a single gulp. "And his brother, Eric, is very thirsty," said
Obama.

I didn't say anything. Obama’s testing my compassion, I thought. I withheld
my comments and decided to play along. I don't want to seem unkind.. My
plate was whisked away before I had tasted a bite. "Eric's children are
also quite hungry."

With a lurch, I crashed to the floor. My chair had been pulled out from
under me. I stood, brushing myself off angrily, and watched as it was
carried from the room. And their grandmother can't stand for long."

I excused myself, smiling outwardly, but inside feeling like a fool.
Obviously I had been invited to the White House to be sport for some game.
I reached for my coat, to find that it had been taken. I turned back to
Obama. "Their grandfather doesn't like the cold."

I wanted to shout, "That was my coat!" But again, I looked at the placid
smiling face of my host and decided I was being a poor sport. I spread my
hands helplessly and chuckled.

Then I felt my hip pocket and realized my wallet was gone. I excused myself
and walked to a phone on an elegant side table. I learned shortly that my
credit cards had been maxed out, my bank accounts emptied, my retirement
and equity portfolios had vanished, and my wife had been thrown out of our
home.

Apparently, the waiters and their families were moving in. Obama hadn't
moved or spoken as I learned all this, but finally I lowered the phone into
its cradle and turned to face him.

"Andrew's whole family has made bad financial decisions. They haven't
planned for retirement and they need a house. They recently defaulted on a
subprime mortgage. I told them they could have your home. They need it more
than you do."

My hands were shaking. I felt faint I stumbled back to the table and knelt
on the floor.

bama cheerfully cut his meat, ate his steak, and drank his wine. I lowered
my eyes and stared at the small grey circles on the tablecloth that were
water drops.

"By the way, he added, "I have just signed an Executive Order nationalizing
your factories. I'm firing you as head of your business; I'll be operating
the firm now for the benefit of all mankind. There's a whole bunch of Erics
and Andrews out there and they can't come to you for jobs groveling like
beggars...we need to spread YOUR wealth around..."

I looked up. Obama then dropped his spoon into the empty ramekin which had
been his Crème Brule. He drained the last drops of his wine. As the table
was cleared, he lit a Cuban cigar and leaned back in his chair.

He stared at me. I clung to the edge of the table as if it were a ledge and
I were a man hanging over an abyss.

I thought of the years behind me, of the life I had lived - the life I had
earned with a lifetime of work, risk and struggle. Why was I punished? How
had I allowed it to be taken? What game had I played and lost? I looked
across the table and noticed with some surprise that there was no game
board between us.

What had I done wrong?

As if answering the unspoken thought, Obama suddenly cocked his head,
locked his empty eyes to mine, and bared a million teeth, chuckling wryly
as he folded his hands and said:

*"You should have stopped me at the dinner roll!" he said.*

 

This is an awesome illustration of a horrible truth.

 

yes it is.

 

I really think whoever wrote that read Terry Goodkind's "Sword of Truth" series. This much condensed version is pretty scary, and I see it happening all around me.