In 1935 Professor Erwin Schrodinger developed a thought experiment in which a cat is placed in a box, and after an hour the cat will either be alive or dead, depending on whether or not a random event happened in the box, but whether the cat was alive or dead inside the box could not be known. It can be said of Obama that he was and is a random event, and it can also be said of Obama that “There but for the grace of God goes God.” But suppose it isn’t that way at all. Suppose it goes “There DESPITE the grace of God goes God,” in which case our only hope is that Schrodinger’s cat survives. 

 

There despite the grace of God

Goes God, Obama, who unshod

Walks on the water turned to wine

But deigns on loaves and fish to dine

The Passion play he also scorns

He will not wear a crown of thorns

But sacrifice himself he will

For Marx he’ll march right up that hill

And take his place in mankind’s lore

His father’s son, and what is more

He’ll rise again on the third day

And smile his smile and then he’ll say

I am The One my Father sent

To give you phones and pay your rent

The trodden down, the hopeless mom

I’ll take to that Celestial prom

Where golden goblets, silver plates

Are there for he who simply waits

For promises I’ve made to you

And until then, it’s toodel-oo

I’m off ascending in the clouds

And waving to adoring crowds

To join my Dad in Heaven’s scene

But I’ll be back in aught sixteen

To lead you to the promised land

As part of my most holy band

Of which I’m proud to be the head

And by the way the cat is dead