Get this T-Shirt from these guys.
To go along with this, LisaKay sent me a link to this piece.
And it came to pass, in the eighth year of the reign of the evil Bush the Younger (The Ignorant), when the whole land from the Arabian desert to the shores of the Great Lakes had been laid barren, that a Child appeared in the wilderness.The Child was blessed in looks and intellect. Scion of a simple family, offspring of a miraculous union, grandson of a typical white person and an African peasant. And yea, as he grew, the Child walked in the path of righteousness, with only the occasional detour into the odd weed and a little blow.
When he was twelve years old, they found him in the temple in the City of Chicago, arguing the finer points of community organisation with the Prophet Jeremiah and the Elders. And the Elders were astonished at what they heard and said among themselves: “Verily, who is this Child that he opens our hearts and minds to the audacity of hope?”
In the great Battles of Caucus and Primary he smote the conniving Hillary, wife of the deposed King Bill the Priapic and their barbarian hordes of Working Class Whites.
Read it all.
love it. Its sick to see the press. He is truly there GOD.
Posted by: Mike on July 25, 2008 04:09 PMLove it. Its sick to see the press.
He is truly there GOD.
"The messiah is a NIIIIIIGGGGGGGGGG......"
Posted by: patrick on July 25, 2008 06:06 PMI love it. I'm still amazed at how many people think he is God's gift to the Presidency. Maybe it's because everyone is sick to death of business as usual in Washington?
Posted by: John C on July 25, 2008 06:54 PMAfter some few weeks of wide-eyed wonder in the halls of Kongrasen, Barklik heard a strange voice urging a quest. Tired from many days of watching the elders wrangle, deceive, pretend, and bluff, he mistakenly thought the call to quest was for him
Dissent raged through the land, and though all needs of life were met, the people were not satisfied. War had brought strong feelings to the surface, and the most recent glorious quest had resulted in disillusion and frustration. The warriors had searched far and wide, but the evil warlord had hidden his treasures beneath the shifting sands and silenced those who knew the path to their rediscovery.
During a fiery harangue by his mentor Jermarong, the wizard of his tribe, Barklik felt a tingle in his leg. Strange sensations coursed through his chest, and a vision of conquest floated in his mind’s eye, a shimmering tapestry depicting the downfall of the old chief and the rise of a new power in the land.
Hupra, a powerful but insane priestess called him to her and explained that the evil Halibordung had swallowed the holy amulet and hidden the sacred talisman which together had brought victory and prosperity to the tribe. The entire world was then plunged into a Bashabushto, a period of darkness and sorrow in which tribe will war against tribe, brother will turn against brother, and the land will be governed by chaos and despair.
Only a truly naive, guileless, unassuming innocent could revive the precious baubles and restore peace and harmony to the world. To do so, the virtuous one would need to travel through many lands, charm dozens of princes, woo scores of princesses, and convince multitudes of people that he was truly the blessed one, the virtuous one, the only one to revitalize hope and inaugurate the longed-for transition spoken of by so many.
But what Hupra did not sense, what Jermarong did not see, what the people did not understand, was that although Barklik was indeed innocent in the sense that he was vastly ignorant of the ways of the world, that he was magnificently blessed in the sense that the minstrels and players and jesters believed him to be the anointed one of prophecy, that he had an aura which would allow him to charm the masters and potentates of tribes bringing conflict to the land, the call to quest had never been for him. He had heard it yes, but faintly, distantly, as one hears a voice on the wind from afar and believes, by wanting so ardently to understand its meaning, that he knew what it said.
Barklik was not pure, not innocent, not guileless, but infected by having lived among and dealt with the corrupt Shika-Go clan, infamous for its deceiving, scheming, conniving behavior. The patronage of Hupra brought other alliances from which he gained stature. And without knowing it, the people had placed all their trust in the wrong questor.
Convinced that his destiny was to bring wealth and euphoria back to the people, Barklik ventured forth on his quest, presenting himself to the warlords and chieftains of those troubled regions who lusted for dominion over his tribe. He visited the rocky, barren lands considered hallowed and divine by great numbers of diverse tribes who sought an end not to the chaos and despair, but the ways of his people.
He visited the ancient lands once ruled by Sharlmag and Zogfrud, speaking to the elders and idolaters from whose lips his name flowed with awe and fascination. But he did not find the amulet, and he never saw the talisman, and the voice never again spoke to him, and Hupra said no more his name and Jermarong sequestered himself in an island retreat.
Returning to his people, he found himself both exhausted by the quest and buoyed by his experiences. Little was heard of Halibordung, and the tribal leaders announced that they knew their time had passed and they must abandon their positions and leave supreme power to whoever could grasp and hold it.
He found himself borne on a flood of enthusiasm by those who still believed his innocence, his purity, his virtue would bring their salvation and restore the land to its former glory. But without the protection of the amulet, without the power of the talisman, without the knowledge of the old ways, Barklik was doomed to fail. He sat upon the chair of the chieftain and held the axe of authority, but the chaos did not end. Instead it grew worse, as did despair, and hopelessness, and disillusion.
And the voices of the people grew at first quiet, confused by their lord’s hesitations, his indecisions, his flawed and narrow judgments. Then they again grew loud, and shrill, and ominous, calling for an end to the darkness and gloom. And the period of Bushabashto gave way to Barabamabash, and the fields did not yield their harvest and the trees did not share their fruit and the darkness glistened on the mantle of ice which crept across the world.
cult of personality
Posted by: vetfromhell on July 26, 2008 11:09 PMGreat Patrick,
No sense in talking about your reservations to his stance on foreign policy or the economy or anything like that. Let's just get to what bothers you the most. You are so brave.
Posted by: Dkelsmith on August 1, 2008 07:33 AMDkelsmith - I think Patrick was quoting the governor from Blazing Saddles.
Posted by: Denny on August 1, 2008 04:08 PM