The question is, why have largely single, white women forsaken Obama?

(Which brings to mind the old quandary over Jesus' lament, "Oh God, why has thou forsaken me?" Which you may know is a misinterpretation, according to the late Aramaic Bible researcher George Lamsa who insisted that the correct translation from Aramaic should be "Eli, Eli, lemana shabakthani" or "My God, my God, for this [purpose] I was spared!")

In fact, not all single white women have forsaken The Annointed One, as the radio rats always call him, particularly penny-annity, but based on a verifiable poll of two or three friends I found out this widespread truth. Some women were pissed that he compromised before he had to, on the health care bill especially. He gave in and there was a hint of that in his books, a little suggestion that he might do that, that he was not just pragmatic but something else. Something a little distasteful, frankly. Turned out some women felt jilted. It was as though the man you fantasized about every day in the office really didn't have any interest in you. The smile you hoped was for you, wasn't.

And so these women that were running away with him every night in their dreams, like Beckys after their Toms, in moonlight off the Mississippi, were undone that in real life he had no interest in them. It was as if to say, as if women could say to him, privately of course, "I knew Bill Clinton and you're no Bill Clinton" — that dirty, sexy, terminally boyish rascal who could be forgiven on a smile, because after all his only crime was that he loved women too much. But that's good. Women prefer a man with simple faults, with common despicables.

With Obama it's different, because the smile is not about turning you on. It's about something else, who knows what. He's in the mind, not in his body, so you can't get an easy read. Can't figure out who he really is. Can't control him, that's what it is. The 'helpful crone' understand this but not others.

"They fell out of love with 'the dark one'," as a friend put it so derisively, referriing to her suddenly spurned sisters in Berkeley. I should add that she herself has always had only black lovers, and as far as she's concerned this is all just more of that old black-magic racism.

Bottom line: you can't trust a good man. Just not used to it. They make you feel uneasy, unsettled. What kind of man could be so calm, reserved. Doesn't waste a single syllable of body language. Doesn't have time, doesn't need to.

At least let's have Sidney Poitier, nostrils flaring, mouth-a-grimace. That man who said, "A good deed here, a good deed there, a good thought here, a good comment there, all added up to my career in one way or another." But he was emotional, he showed his anger. His characters all had one thing in common, they knew that America loves a fighter.

You can still hear his voice. You literally had to hold his characters back when the injustice went too far. And for damn sure none of his characters would have compromised with the likes of one of these potato-colored farts like John Boehner.