Obamamania verges on obsession

BALTIMORE — Maryland Congressman Elijah Cummings has held elected office for more than a quarter-century, so he's seen his fair share of politicians come and go.

But apparently he's never seen one quite like Illinois Sen. Barack Obama.


"This is not a campaign for president of the United States, this is a movement to change the world," he said as he introduced Obama last week in Baltimore.

"You do not get 13,000 people in this auditorium with a campaign."

As over the top as it may have sounded, Cummings' sentiments weren't all that unusual.

Because when it comes to Obama, hyperbole seems to be the rule, not the exception.

His charms seem tough to resist, even for some of Hollywood’s biggest names.

"He walks into a room and you want to follow him somewhere, anywhere," George Clooney told talk show host Charlie Rose.

"I'll do whatever he says to do," actress Halle Berry said to the Philadelphia Daily News. "I'll collect paper cups off the ground to make his pathway clear."

Welcome to the cult of Barack Obama.

Many talented politicians attract devoted throngs — but with Obama, the fervency of his following borders on the messianic, and that phenomenon has only increased in recent weeks as Obama has scored 10 consecutive primary and caucus victories over New York Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton, surged into the lead in the delegate count, and claimed the mantle of front-runner for the Democratic nomination.

But is there a downside to being viewed as a political deity?

Critics, including Clinton, Arizona Sen. John McCain and members of the Republican chattering class clearly think so.

A competing narrative has formed in recent weeks in which opponents try to turn Obama’s popularity into a negative by hinting that there’s something uninformed and empty — or just plain creepy — about his impassioned support.

For weeks, Clinton and her campaign have increasingly centered their critique of Obama on the notion that while he can wax poetic on the stump, she offers more experience and on-the-job training.

Last week, Clinton adviser Sid Blumenthal e-mailed an article from The American Conservative implying that Obama's support was, at least in part, due to white liberal guilt.

"It's time to get real about how we actually win this election," Clinton said Wednesday at Hunter College in New York.

“It's time that we move from good words to good works, from sound bites to sound solutions.”

Her conclusion: “Let’s get real.”

McCain, the presumptive GOP nominee, also has clearly signaled how he would attack Obama should the Illinois senator be his Democratic opponent in the fall.

After McCain’s victory in Wisconsin Tuesday night, he too cast Obama as long on rhetoric but light on substance.

"I will fight every moment of every day in this campaign to make sure that Americans are not deceived by an eloquent but empty call for change," McCain said.

Unfortunately for McCain and Clinton, their talking points don’t seem to matter much to the growing ranks of Obama-maniacs.

Thousands of screaming, cheering, and sometimes even crying supporters regularly come out to hear him talk.

His most fervent backers fall in love with his idealistic message of change — irrelevant of the dry details — his youth, and his powerful presence on the stump. For some, the affair can border on obsession.

And activist Democrats aren't the only ones swept up in Obamamania. His campaign events are filled with first-time voters, self-described political slackers, and even a few Republicans who now zealously back the first-term senator from Illinois.

Ross Avila, a senior at The University of Pennsylvania, drove more than 2,200 miles to volunteer in Iowa, New Jersey and South Carolina for the campaign.

"Iowa in January was so miserable," he says, remembering the single-digit temperatures.

"I can't imagine doing such grueling work for someone that I didn't believe in so much. I think he's very unique that way."

The true believers can “Obama-ize” just about anything. Knitters for Obama crochet for him, Runners for Obama jog for him, and Hold 'Em Barack, well, they bet on him.

In Chicago, a recent art exhibit showed works depicting the candidate on canvas, paper and even in animated videos.

Some of the posters are vaguely reminiscent of classic Soviet propaganda, with a large, benevolent-looking Obama staring out from the paper. The artists plan to tour their "independent political propaganda campaign" across the country.

The Internet offers a revealing glimpse into the curious scope of Obamamania. One blog, titled "Is Barack Obama the Messiah?" cuts right to the chase.

A search on Flickr, a photo-sharing website, turns up pictures of Obama cakes, murals, etch-a-sketch drawings, and even tattoos.

On Etsy, a crafts auction website, you can buy Obama jewelry, paintings, and even a homemade Obama Valentine. The card shows a sketch of the candidate with the text, "I want to Barack your world."

The magnitude of the Obama movement has reached such Elvis-like proportions that even the candidate seems to be trying to tone things down.

Last week, he talked much less about his campaign being a social movement and more about concrete policy plans, taxes, energy consumption and education.

On Wednesday, he gave a major economic address at a General Motors plant in Wisconsin, introducing his plan to invest in "green-collar" jobs and create a National Infrastructure Reinvestment Bank.

"Today I want to take it down a notch," he said at the start of his speech, noting that his address would be "a little more detailed, a little longer, with not as many applause lines."

In Houston Tuesday night, he also seemed to warn his audience that his campaign would rise and fall on hard work and basic political intangibles rather than the appeal of a higher calling.

"The change we seek is still months and miles away," Obama said.

“As clear as I am that I am not a perfect vessel, I would not be running if I did not believe that I could lead this country in that new direction that we have a unique moment that we have to seize,” said Obama, “but I have to tell you I can’t do it by myself. No president can.”

So far, none of the change in rhetoric appears to have dulled the ardor of Obama's fans.

Earlier this month, the campaign raised over $7.5 million in less than 48 hours, all through online contributions.

In January, Obama raised roughly $32 million to Clinton's $13.5 million.

Last week, Obama attracted a crowd of 19,000 to the Kohl Center in Madison, Wis.

Four days earlier, more than 18,000 voters filled Seattle's Key Arena to see him.

The 3,000 that didn't get in waited in the cold for over an hour to hear a roughly two-minute version of his stump speech.

When Obama finally took the stage, the crowd roared so loudly that a local reporter in the press section covered her ears.

At an Omaha, Neb., rally the day before, supporters leaned perilously over railings, screaming and crying, trying to touch Obama as he passed.

During both speeches, a supporter yelled out, "I love you." This happens fairly frequently and Obama is always ready with a smooth answer.

"I love you back," he says, with a quick, almost cocky smile.

The campaign works hard to cultivate the rock star image. After he's introduced, Obama routinely waits about 30 seconds to enter the arena.

The excitement grows, until his entrance is perfectly timed with the soaring chords of U2's “City of Blinding Lights.”

"I can't really verbalize exactly what it is about him," says Avila. "Part of it is just beyond explanation."