Truth Revealed: How the Alt-Right's Barack Obama Conspiracies Were Spot On After All

Truth Revealed: How the Alt-Right's Barack Obama Conspiracies Were Spot On After All

Barack Obama may be laughing now, but we're on to him!

Barack Obama may be laughing now, but we're on to him!

Last night, it finally happened. 

As I lay awake, tossing and turning after listening to another action-packed Infowars broadcast, I heard a loud thud following by the implosion of my front door. 

"Get the guns!" 

It was the cry I'd been fearing for eight years now. I knew they'd come to my quaint suburban home at some point and what better time to do so than at the very end of Barack Obama's presidency? Fortunately, I had been preparing myself for this very moment. 

Yet despite years of rehearsing exactly how I would respond in this situation, the truth is that I was simply overpowered. Almost immediately after kicking in my front door, I heard footsteps rapidly ascending the stairs. As I was leaning over my bed to grab my pre-loaded shotgun my bedroom door was kicked open and several masked men appeared. They spoke in some foreign language, probably Arabic, and they immediately wrestled me out of bed, duct-taped by mouth shut and placed a pillowcase over my head. As I was being escorted downstairs, I heard the men overturn my bed in an effort to get my shotgun. 

"According to our surveillance, there's a handgun in the top drawer of the dresser. Make sure you grab it. The bullets are stashed under the bathroom sink in a box next to the Drain-O." 

I knew it! I knew they'd be watching me this whole time. 

As I was taken down the stairs I heard a racket in my living room. I turned in that direction, trying to make sense of what was going on. 

"You heard me! I said smash everything Christmas-related. Ornaments, pictures, presents, you name it! We need to torch that tree as well. You heard the boss' orders. It's time to destroy this silly pagan holiday once and for all." 

I gasped. The War On Christmas had just been waged in my very own living room.

"Let's go!"  

I was immediately whisked away out into the frozen dead of night. While still in my driveway I felt a sudden burst of heat in the direction of my home. It was then that I realized that my Christmas tree had been removed and had ben set on fire. Unfortunately, I didn't even have time to sulk as I was immediately shoved and strapped into the backseat of an SUV. The car immediately spun out of my driveway, heading toward the highway. 

"Breaker, this is Mohammad with ISIS task force group B384A. We've successfully completed our mission." 

There was an audible voice responding. The passenger must have had his phone on speaker.

"Excellent work, B384A. Continue on to the Jade Helm rendezvous point for phase 2." 

Of course! ISIS was streaming through our southern border where they met up with the Jade Helm invasion force, based out of Texas. This was even worse than I imagined.

My head was spinning with these thoughts as we slowly made our way onto the highway. Being the middle of the night, there was little to no traffic. Not that it would have mattered. Nobody would have seen me through what appeared to be tinted windows. Looking through the pillowcase, I could barely make out the lights of the passing cars. I was truly all alone. 

"Wake up!"

I felt a stern smack across the pillowcase that connected with my right cheek. I had apparently fallen asleep and upon my awakening, I heard car doors opening and closing rapidly. I was immediately pulled outside, escorted by an ISIS fighter on each side of me.

"Take him inside."  

At this point, I was escorted across a large-scale parking lot with dozens of vehicle doors opening and closing in near synchronicity. From what I could make out, there seemed to be an entire batch of us who had all been brought to this rendezvous point. Each person, like myself, being escorted by ISIS fighters heading toward what seemed to be some sort of large-scale industrial complex. As we got closer, there was a giant metal door that opened up, leading all of us to what appeared to be some sort of assembly area. Once inside, the door closed and we were left in near total darkness. 

A booming voice emerged. "Remove the cases."  

On cue, the pillowcase blocking my sight was removed and I found myself among what must have been hundreds of people just as disoriented as I was. Due to the low lighting, I couldn't make out exactly how many people were there with me but based on the size of the room, I guessed there were roughly 400 of us. 


All of a sudden, dozens of floodlights came on from up above. After an initial moment of disorientation, my attention was drawn to a man on a raised platform in the center of the room. He looked somehow familiar.  

"You white devils are here today because you've been bad boys are girls." 

Reverend Jeremiah Wright. Of course he was part of all this! 

"For the past eight years, you've lived a life of sin! You've continued your antiquated, un-American views and you've worshiped the wrong God. In order to make amends for your poor lifestyle decisions, you've been invited here to FEMA Camp 34 for your re-education. By the time you're finished here you will understand what it is like to be second-class citizens because you WILL BE second-class citizens in this country. The era of the White man is over! Long live Black America!" 

Immediately, a sea of ISIS fighters came forth and began removing us one-by-one. When it came time for my removal, I expected to once again have my head covered. However, this wasn't what happened. In fact, the duct-tape was removed allowing be the full use of my lips for the first time in hours. One of the ISIS fighters looked at me and smiled. 

"Ready to see what happens here at FEMA Camp 34?" He laughed, maniacally. 

Upon pondering this ominous question, I was escorted by the ISIS fighter and his colleague through a hallway. This hallway consisted of what appeared to be classrooms with clear windows providing an insight into the inner workings of the class. Inside these classrooms were children staring at books at their desks. We stopped in front of one classroom in particular where a female teacher appeared to be answering a student question from a boy who couldn't have been older than 6. 

"Yes, Timmy. One plus one is two. But to get credit for your answer, you must explain your reasoning in a full paragraph response."
I shuddered. One of the ISIS fighters saw my reaction and smiled. 

"Common core. The future of education." 

I was immediately shoved forward and we thankfully passed through the education wing of this godforsaken place. However, I quickly realized that this place had even more disturbing areas that we had yet to see. 

Up ahead was a massive glassed-in room titled "Waiting Room." Waiting for what?  

One of my captors smiled as he noticed me pause. "Welcome to the Abortion Center." 

No. It couldn't be! An entire room of expecting mothers who were on their way to murdering their unborn children. There had to be a hundred women and those were just the ones that I could see. This room seemed to extend as far back as the eye could see.

My captor laughed. "More and more arrive each day. Does it bother you?" 

I gritted my teeth and shook my head. Of course it bothered me! Right here, at this FEMA camp as part of the Jade Helm invasion was an entire room dedicated to killing unborn children. My God, what was wrong with these people? 

Just then, I heard a bell toll. My two captors immediately dropped to their knees and began to pray. One of them saw my hesitation.

"Pray you heathen! Pray to Allah!" 

I looked down at him. "No." 

The man looked up at me. "I said pray. Do not insult Allah like this or..."I snapped. "Or what? What will you do? Tie me up again? Take my guns? Destroy my Christmas tree? Submit me to viewing common core education or entire rooms of women waiting to have an abortion. WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY DO TO ME THAT WOULD BE WORSE!?"

The man smiled. "There is one thing that always seems to work on troubled ones like yourself. Come with me. Now." 

The man and his fellow captor rose as the prayer was ending and violently grabbed my arms. They quickly took me through a windowless hallway toward a pair of large, mahogany double doors. Above the doors said one single, terrifying word:


My captors smiled. "Yes. Those that need convincing end up here with our leader. He can be  very convincing." 

At that point the large, mahogany doors opened and I was ushered inside. Once inside my captors seated me in a room with a large, rectangular desk. Across the desk was a large office chair facing 180 degrees away from where I had been seated. As I looked around the room, I noticed my captors had silently left me there alone. It was just me and the president's empty office.

The office was filled with pictures and mementos. The president and the First Lady. The president and his daughters. The president at the White House. There were all pictures that seemed all well and good and pictures that would be featured on some of those liberal websites that I'd never be found dead looking at. 

But then, one of the pictures caught my eye. It was the president with none other than Saul Alinsky! I'd recognize Alinsky's photo anywhere from the 2008 election. The man was a radical socialist and was dangerous. He had taught the president everything he knew. It was only fitting that the president was now following in Alinsky's footsteps with Jade Helm and everything that seemed to be going on here with the FEMA camps. 

Next to that picture was a collage of baby pictures of the president. But next to those, there was a faded document that seemed out of place. It was written in a foreign language and had what appeared to have a foreign nation's seal imprinted against the center of the document. The only word I could recognize was the word KENYA. 

Wait. It can't be. Is this...? Yes, it is. This is a Kenyan birth certificate. It is the birth certificate of a man named...

"Barry Ubanto Soweto. Doesn't sound very presidential now, does it?" 

The desk chair was wheeled around to reveal the President of the United States sitting before me. But this was not the same well-dressed man I had seen on Fox News. This was a man wearing African garb as if he had just stepped out from some third world African village. 

He smiled. "So I hear you're having a hard time adjusting to your new life here in the camp?"

"My new life?"  

He nodded. "Why, yes. These camps aren't temporary after all. We can't have you heading back out there after you've seen what we're doing here." He motioned to the wall. "Especially after you've learned all our secrets."  

"But the world has to know!"  

The president laughed. "Yeah? And what will you tell them? Do you think they'll believe all these outrageous allegations? The president born in Kenya? A simple military training exercise designed to invade the United States? A war on Christmas? A wide-scale operation to somehow confiscate every single American's guns?" 

I shook my head. "It's all real. We always knew it was real!"  

At this point, the president took out a bottle from his desk as well as a white cloth. He looked at me and smiled. "Yes, well there were some of you who suspected it all along. But how will you convince anyone without proof?" And with that, the president poured the liquid onto the cloth and shoved the cloth against my mouth. I tried to fight him off but all of a sudden I felt dizzy. I fought as long as I could but the darkness simply overwhelmed me. 

I woke up back in my home. It was morning. I immediately reached under my bed and found my shotgun there. My dresser drawer still had my handgun. I sprinted downstairs and saw that my Christmas tree was in the corner, fully decorated. There was no sign of any damage to my front door. 

How could this happen? Was it all just a dream? Was I really a fool to believe all that? After all, when you thought about it as a whole, it did seem a bit far-fetched, didn't it?

I booted up my laptop and made myself some coffee. Once the web browser was up and running I headed on over to the InfoWars website to see what today's news was. The top story revolved around President Obama being in control of a secret mind-altering chemical that would be administered through inhalation.  

A mind-altering chemical? But that would allow someone to completely doubt their own memories! To challenge their own sanity! They would convince themselves that something that was true was actually false. Exactly like the way I was feeling now! I had to tell somebody.

But what kind of person would actually believe something like that?


Like what you read? Chip in, keep us going.

I come not to bury Obamacare, but to praise it

I come not to bury Obamacare, but to praise it

Barack Obama and the Legacy of Hope

Barack Obama and the Legacy of Hope