The Obama had a very nice attempt at a save the other day. His so-called Racism Speech was indeed a finely crafted oratory. There was no hope for even a whisper of spontaneity, for each syllable was selected with extraordinary care. Every phase examined with painstaking attention- to be specific enough to solve a problem but ambiguous enough to leave future wiggle room-weighed and calculated for sound bite worthiness. The presentation showcased Barrack's greatest ability: an earnest delivery of words parsed and sculpted with surgical precision.

All of the interviews on the damage control tour that preceded the speech showed us something completely different, however.

When the Rev. Wright furor hit the fan it constituted the first time that we've ever had the opportunity to observe the Ivy League Wunderkind confronted with an obstacle- asked real questions. Barrack Obama did not do well. He demonstrated dreadful judgment in his amateurish tap dance as he attempted to convince us all that he had never, ever noticed that his own "uncle" was a raving anti American racist. He blustered and fumbled and, yes, he lied.

Now, I know that the media will forget those unfortunate days and cling only to "the speech" allowing themselves to be bathed in Obama's tidal waves of pretty-albeit manipulative prose. But I, at least for one, will never forget the peek that I got a the real man. I will remember how his judgment crumbled and his integrity melted the very first time trouble came his way.