H.L. Mencken, covering the Progressive Party convention of 1948, and its gullible and credulous nominee, Henry Wallace, wrote of the ridiculous pol that "To a very large extent he has acquired the semi-celestial character which attached to the late FDR. If, when nominated today, he suddenly sprouts wings and begins flapping about the hall, no one will be surprised."
I was reminded of this imagery (which I rediscovered in Mencken's Last Campaign: H.L.Mencken on the 1948 Election, edited by Joseph C. Goulden) by the profusion of similar heavenly metaphors scattered like rose petals in the path of the One's fairy-tale procession to the White House. Rarely has the disparity between myth and reality been so great; the fall, when it comes, will be hard. Oh, it will take some time, particularly with the media desperately boosting his prestige like a gang of stock swindlers trying to unload a bundle of dubious securities in time to catch the next train out of town. But I believe his political demise is inevitable. Eventually - and it may be as soon as 2012 - people won't be asking for a New Deal; they'll be demanding a new deck.
But of course, I could be wrong (H/T: Cap'n Heinrichs)