Serendipity alone cannot elevate a writing career. And according to Jack Cashill's thesis it cannot create one either. It takes talent plus time. However, he invokes serendipity in his case because after reading Dreams from my Father, and later Fugitive Days by Bill Ayers, he was able to pull the covers off Obama’s books. It is a profile in fraud. Broadcast from Kansas City public library Jack touts his talent and his book Deconstructing Obama where he compares the genome of President Obama’s writing with that of Ayers and comes up with a match: unrepentant terrorist as “ghost writer.”
Cashill had hoped that a mad-as-hell-at-MSM meme would be the very October surprise that would keep Barack Obama, the author of two stinking poems, a couple of broken-down articles out of the White House. He was wrong. Instead the newborn junk species he created was not viable.
Jack took questions after pitching his discovery on C-SPAN2 Book TV. Enthralling—especially when he invoked Malcolm Gladwell’s book—that it takes 10,000 hours to master anything including writing, golf and science and that Obama was 9,999 hours short. Cashill carefully collected and compared what little he could find; Obama’s published writings with his neighbor Bill Ayers. Bravo.
After this, I watched Network (1976). And realized that I too was a fraud--using one-liners from films, just like the black woman in the film who self-identifies as a “bad ass, commie, nigger," then gets a show; thanks to the serendipity of angry prophet Howard Beal, who spawns the mother of all rants: “I’m mad as hell and not going to take it anymore!” After its shameless promotion people begin shouting from their windows “Wait until 2012!” I mean “I’m mad as hell!”