Barack Obama is sending me so many emails that I’m starting to delete his earnest diatribes without even opening them. I know. That’s heresy coming from a journalist. Don’t get me wrong. I’m a big fan. I welled up during his race speech. I gave money to his campaign. I believe he has inspired the world in a powerful way. My 3 year old daughter shouts “There’s Barack Obama!” with glee every time she spots his face. But here we are, on the eve of what everyone expects to be his historic win, and I’m fighting Obama burnout. Here in my dark blue enclave, Obama’s image is a hipster calling card. My massage therapist (okay, she’s a Rolfer) has a photo of Obama in her studio, right next to her picture of Amma, the Hindu Hugging Saint. Perhaps Shepard Fairey is to blame. Way back in January, the L.A. artist’s reverent Obama poster –emblazoned with “HOPE” and “PROGRESS” — seemed to be the tipping point that pushed Obama into Zeitgeist territory. Now websites like obamamessiah.blogspot.com seriously argue that Obama may indeed be the Second Coming. Forget all those predictions of a landslide victory. Is there anything more indicative of cultural influence than a gargantuan gravel and sand sculpture on a Barcelona beach, visible only by air? I think not. (Photo thanks to Reuters)