Lenore Skenazy

Let us start by saying that hope is good, political involvement is to be applauded, and young people are not all shallow sheep flocking to the latest hip thing, be it tattoo, tongue stud, iPod or, ahem, presidential candidate.

OK, so now I can ask: Is the Obama campaign becoming a cult?

It’s hard not to sense something a little strange going on, considering the nearly unprecedented swell of love and fervor the man is inspiring. Con­tributions are pouring in. Endorsements are raining down.

Even people are falling down; at six of Sen. Obama’s rallies, people have fainted.

That’s just not what happens with most cam­paigns.

“I would not say that Obama fits the pattern of a cult leader,” a religious studies professor at the University of Den­ver, Carl Raschke, said. “But there is a very cultlike situation: A population longing for absolute certainty and truth [that] is incapable of taking control of their own lives and wants someone to do that for them — a Magic Man.”

An unscrupulous leader would take advantage of his Magic Man status, the professor said. Obama isn’t doing that … but he sure is riding the wave.

Over at the International Cultic Studies Association, Executive Director Michael Langone agrees that attracting this kind of ardor was never Obama’s intent. Nonetheless, the rookie senator is providing the perfect petri dish for cult cultivation: a feel-good message of hope and change that never gets too specific.

“A certain amount of ambiguity is needed because then people can project their idiosyncratic visions onto that [figure],” Langone said. When that happens, the candidate becomes a Rorschach test; people see in him what they want to see, “and they may think they share the same specifics, but they don’t. What they’re really sharing is an emotional experience, like a revival meeting,” said Lan­gone.

You don’t hear a lot of policy details at a revival meeting, which is one reason Hillary Clinton’s campaign seems so hopelessly earthbound.

It’s tough to be charismatic when you’re talking insurance rates per thousand.

On the other hand, it’s tough to be disliked when you’re telling people: “We are the change that we seek” — self-help language strikingly similar to the language used in personal growth workshops, according to Lan­gone.

“She’s perspiration, he’s inspiration,” is how publicist Rhoda Weiss summed up the candidates’ differences.

Lately that inspiration is reaching ever-weirder heights. People at Obama rallies have been saying things such as: “He changed my life.”

On MSNBC, Hardball host Chris Matthews told viewers that when he heard Obama speak, “[he] felt this thrill going up [his] leg.”

Better than something going down his leg, I guess. “Barack makes people feel good,” 30-something Lisa Giassa said simply. “He’s inspiring.”

Feel-good inspiration. No wonder he’s got so many groupies … er … fans. And yet the other characteristic shared by every cult?

Elitism. Cult members think they’ve seen the light and everyone else is pathetically unevolved.

Those of us out here in not-yet-swept-off-our-feet land are feeling that force against us. It’s gotten to the point that if the earth doesn’t move when you watch that Yes We Can video — the one watched by more than 5 million people in three weeks, the one in gorgeous black and white, making Obama look as if he’s already a part of history — you’re missing the human decency gene.

“People look at him and say, ‘Oh, he’s our savior,’ so I hesitate to say in front of other people that I don’t get that great warm feeling when I look at him,” my friend Marla confessed the other night in her kitchen.

It was such a relief to find another cult member.

The cult of the “he’s smart, he’s nice, but I’m not convinced he’s the Messiah” voter.

So at least there are two of us.

LENORE SKENAZY is a contributing editor at the New York Sun. Her column is distributed by Creators Syndicate Inc.