[FONT="] A Divine Comedie Bouffe, A Vision of George Bush's Inexcellent Misadventures in Heaven and Hell (Please read with your sense of humor turned on, and I apologize for the length)
“God is a Republican”
[FONT="] – Jerry Falwell
[FONT="] The scene is a zanily Danteesque, searingly surreal chamber in hell, sometime after the Grim Reaper has claimed the entire accursed cast of characters involved. To roll opening discredits, the lead pernicious players in this bit of netherworldly farce are the two George Bushes, p?re and fils, Saddam Hussein, and Charles Manson – with a special cameo appearance by a macabrely Mel Brooksian Satan (he makes Jesse James ride about on a literal blazing saddle all day! :devil
.
[FONT="] As per usual, the two Bushes are off in a corner locked in a touching t?te–?–t?te. I.e., junior is blubberingly beseeching his father for the umpteenth time to help him come to terms with their tragically ironic situation, “But daddy, I really don’t understand what we’re doing here. Gosh darn it we were Americans, and we were presidents of the United States. We just can’t be evildoers. Even if we did things that would make someone else, like a terrorist, evil, we had the authority of the Constitution. And it might sound corny but I know in my heart that right or wrong Americans are always the good guys. We certainly can’t be Saddam or Osama evil. And add to that the fact that I had a personal relationship with Jesus, and I really, really don’t get it at all.” And for the umpteenth tiresome time his patricianly papa merely rolled his eyes and admonished Dubya to keep a stiff upper lip.
[FONT="] Meanwhile, Charlie Manson is ranting on to himself, “Hey man, I’m the Devil, and I’m Jesus Christ too. I’m both of those cosmic cats rolled into one mind-blowing paradox, so I should be running this place.” And Saddam cheerlessly contemplates his plight, “This really is hell, I’m trapped for all eternity with the two Bushes and this freak. I’d rather be caged with a pack of Kurdish sex offenders on Viagra.”
[FONT="] Well, the Devil is doing his rounds, tormenting the damned, and he drops in with Doctor Mengele, who today is giving all the gents (beginning with himself) a prostate exam with barbed wire entwined around his finger. Manson appeals to the malicious medico, “Hey man, go gentle with me. See this swastika on my forehead, I dig you dudes.” But before Mengele can get down to business with Charlie suddenly hell begins to quake and vibrate and all its residents knock off the normal pandemonium. You could hear the proverbial pin drop. In the words of a classic song “There’s something happening here, and what it is ain’t exactly clear”. Even the Devil seems dismayed, and then smack-dab in the cell teleports Jesus Christ himself. It’s the first time since just after the Crucifixion that he’s paid a visit of state to hell.
[FONT="] He straightaway began to address Manson, but Dubya couldn’t control himself and interrupted to plead “Lord, it’s me, George W. Bush, you helped me stop doing coke and boozing it up, I had a close personal relationship with you. Surely there’s been a huge mistake, I’m sure I don’t really belong here. Can’t you take me with you? Oh yeah, and daddy too. I know he was an Episcopalian and wasn’t born again like me, but he was an American and a president of the United States.”
[FONT="] Well, Jesus didn’t wish to be condescending but replied that God doesn’t make human clerical errors and that it’s hell, not purgatory, everyone in hell is an afterlifer. Then he turned again to Manson who started running off at the mouth with his signature spiel that he’s the real Jesus Christ, yada yada yada.
[FONT="] Jesus unceremoniously handed the murderous mock messiah a memo with God’s letterhead and burning bush logo on it, and a personal revelation for Charlie written in the most beautiful calligraphy. It read, “This is my revelation unto thee, Charles Milles Manson, thou art merely a clownish charlatan, a beggarly and homicidally-maniacal bozo. Abandon all thine absurd delusions of grandeur and desist from fraudulently claiming to be the son of God.” (Of course the sound of this is just God spoofing our stuffy stereotypes of him, he doesn’t really speak in stilted, archaic English. In point of fact, God’s favorite human languages are Iron Age Hebrew, Esperanto, and American Sign Language, even though he doesn’t have actual hands. Chalk it up to divine inscrutability!)
[FONT="] Jesus then acerbically remarked that “For some people even landing in hell isn’t enough of a wakeup call, but now you’ve officially gotten the memo, you ain’t me”. And then with the words “Beam me up Petey” he started to transport back to Heaven. Well, in a demonstration of uncharacteristic quick-wittedness, Dubya seized the moment and the opportunity and jumped into the matter stream, or should I say the ether stream, and beamed up with him on the down-low.
[FONT="] When Dubya finished energizing in Heaven and beheld its beatific beauty he was of course initially quite dumfounded and stupefied. But this being a state that he was not exactly unaccustomed to, after just a few moments he got his legs sturdily back under him and began to intrepidly wander about, noting all the famous faces he saw there. The first was that of Teddy Kennedy. Well, needless to say he couldn’t believe his eyes, and thinking out loud mumbled "Who would have thunk it, but what about Chappaquiddick and all the votes that he cast in the Senate for abortion and stem cell research?!" Next he noticed Malcolm X and murmured “But wasn’t he some kind of a Muslim?” But what really took him aback was the sight of Charles Darwin. He was trying not to call attention to himself but couldn’t help exclaiming “How the heck did he make it in, he’s the twisted mind that came up with that theory of evolution stuff!!!”
[FONT="] This perturbed utterance brought a reprimanding reply from Saint Peter, who was observantly tailing Dubya, “Well George, for starters Malcolm and Darwin never killed anyone.” The stern guardian of the pearly gates then chided “The presence of one, such as yourself, who doesn’t belong, is highly out of keeping with the good order of Heaven. I’m sorry but you really must return downstairs now.” But irrepressible Dubya spoke up for himself, “I was an American, I have rights. I demand habeas corpses (cut him some slack, he never went to law school; and as at this point his body is a moldering corpse, maybe he's attempting a bad Crypt Keeper-type pun? Comic books were his speed), I demand my day in court!” Enchanted by his naivet? Peter caved in and agreed to take him before the judgment seat of God.
[FONT="] Peter recalled the bit of lawyerly wisdom that one who defends himself has a fool for a client and insisted that Dubya use Johnny Cochran as his advocate. After he got over his astonishment that the likes of a hired gun such as Cochran was one of the blessed, Dubya assisted his mouthpiece in preparing the best case possible. Cochran then made his arguments to the Almighty with all of his vaunted style and skill. Nonetheless his whole defense fell just about as flat as an anorexic tween girl’s bosom and God summarily decreed that Bush was to return to Hades, forthwith. At this joyless juncture Dubya emotionally spoke out of order and begged for a merciful reprieve. Moved, God stepped down from his throne of blinding glory, looking surprisingly like the comedian Bill Maher, and instructed Dubya to tell him in his own words why he didn’t deserve to be cast back to hell.
[FONT="] Well, Dubya proceeded to give God a load of politicianese to justify his crimes against humanity under the color of presidential authority. But alas, God, it turns out, despite being timeless, has precious little patience for self-justifying double-talk and curtly commanded Karl Marx, who now had his angel’s wings, to escort Bush back to hell. Back in hell Dubya’s dad asked him what it was like up above and could hardly believe his son’s fantastic account of seeing so many atheists and left-wingers, and of God’s striking resemblance to Bill Maher. “Well,” Bush senior dispiritedly remarked, “I was wondering why every time the toilets in the Democratic national headquarters flush a number two it materializes down here for poor ole Jerry Falwell to eat, but if Heaven’s a blue state and God’s issuing halos to dead Kennedys I guess that explains it.” Dubya, in a hushed tone, “You mean God’s the L-word? Who would have thunk it daddy, who would have thunk it?!”
“God is a Republican”
[FONT="] – Jerry Falwell
[FONT="] The scene is a zanily Danteesque, searingly surreal chamber in hell, sometime after the Grim Reaper has claimed the entire accursed cast of characters involved. To roll opening discredits, the lead pernicious players in this bit of netherworldly farce are the two George Bushes, p?re and fils, Saddam Hussein, and Charles Manson – with a special cameo appearance by a macabrely Mel Brooksian Satan (he makes Jesse James ride about on a literal blazing saddle all day! :devil
[FONT="] As per usual, the two Bushes are off in a corner locked in a touching t?te–?–t?te. I.e., junior is blubberingly beseeching his father for the umpteenth time to help him come to terms with their tragically ironic situation, “But daddy, I really don’t understand what we’re doing here. Gosh darn it we were Americans, and we were presidents of the United States. We just can’t be evildoers. Even if we did things that would make someone else, like a terrorist, evil, we had the authority of the Constitution. And it might sound corny but I know in my heart that right or wrong Americans are always the good guys. We certainly can’t be Saddam or Osama evil. And add to that the fact that I had a personal relationship with Jesus, and I really, really don’t get it at all.” And for the umpteenth tiresome time his patricianly papa merely rolled his eyes and admonished Dubya to keep a stiff upper lip.
[FONT="] Meanwhile, Charlie Manson is ranting on to himself, “Hey man, I’m the Devil, and I’m Jesus Christ too. I’m both of those cosmic cats rolled into one mind-blowing paradox, so I should be running this place.” And Saddam cheerlessly contemplates his plight, “This really is hell, I’m trapped for all eternity with the two Bushes and this freak. I’d rather be caged with a pack of Kurdish sex offenders on Viagra.”
[FONT="] Well, the Devil is doing his rounds, tormenting the damned, and he drops in with Doctor Mengele, who today is giving all the gents (beginning with himself) a prostate exam with barbed wire entwined around his finger. Manson appeals to the malicious medico, “Hey man, go gentle with me. See this swastika on my forehead, I dig you dudes.” But before Mengele can get down to business with Charlie suddenly hell begins to quake and vibrate and all its residents knock off the normal pandemonium. You could hear the proverbial pin drop. In the words of a classic song “There’s something happening here, and what it is ain’t exactly clear”. Even the Devil seems dismayed, and then smack-dab in the cell teleports Jesus Christ himself. It’s the first time since just after the Crucifixion that he’s paid a visit of state to hell.
[FONT="] He straightaway began to address Manson, but Dubya couldn’t control himself and interrupted to plead “Lord, it’s me, George W. Bush, you helped me stop doing coke and boozing it up, I had a close personal relationship with you. Surely there’s been a huge mistake, I’m sure I don’t really belong here. Can’t you take me with you? Oh yeah, and daddy too. I know he was an Episcopalian and wasn’t born again like me, but he was an American and a president of the United States.”
[FONT="] Well, Jesus didn’t wish to be condescending but replied that God doesn’t make human clerical errors and that it’s hell, not purgatory, everyone in hell is an afterlifer. Then he turned again to Manson who started running off at the mouth with his signature spiel that he’s the real Jesus Christ, yada yada yada.
[FONT="] Jesus unceremoniously handed the murderous mock messiah a memo with God’s letterhead and burning bush logo on it, and a personal revelation for Charlie written in the most beautiful calligraphy. It read, “This is my revelation unto thee, Charles Milles Manson, thou art merely a clownish charlatan, a beggarly and homicidally-maniacal bozo. Abandon all thine absurd delusions of grandeur and desist from fraudulently claiming to be the son of God.” (Of course the sound of this is just God spoofing our stuffy stereotypes of him, he doesn’t really speak in stilted, archaic English. In point of fact, God’s favorite human languages are Iron Age Hebrew, Esperanto, and American Sign Language, even though he doesn’t have actual hands. Chalk it up to divine inscrutability!)
[FONT="] Jesus then acerbically remarked that “For some people even landing in hell isn’t enough of a wakeup call, but now you’ve officially gotten the memo, you ain’t me”. And then with the words “Beam me up Petey” he started to transport back to Heaven. Well, in a demonstration of uncharacteristic quick-wittedness, Dubya seized the moment and the opportunity and jumped into the matter stream, or should I say the ether stream, and beamed up with him on the down-low.
[FONT="] When Dubya finished energizing in Heaven and beheld its beatific beauty he was of course initially quite dumfounded and stupefied. But this being a state that he was not exactly unaccustomed to, after just a few moments he got his legs sturdily back under him and began to intrepidly wander about, noting all the famous faces he saw there. The first was that of Teddy Kennedy. Well, needless to say he couldn’t believe his eyes, and thinking out loud mumbled "Who would have thunk it, but what about Chappaquiddick and all the votes that he cast in the Senate for abortion and stem cell research?!" Next he noticed Malcolm X and murmured “But wasn’t he some kind of a Muslim?” But what really took him aback was the sight of Charles Darwin. He was trying not to call attention to himself but couldn’t help exclaiming “How the heck did he make it in, he’s the twisted mind that came up with that theory of evolution stuff!!!”
[FONT="] This perturbed utterance brought a reprimanding reply from Saint Peter, who was observantly tailing Dubya, “Well George, for starters Malcolm and Darwin never killed anyone.” The stern guardian of the pearly gates then chided “The presence of one, such as yourself, who doesn’t belong, is highly out of keeping with the good order of Heaven. I’m sorry but you really must return downstairs now.” But irrepressible Dubya spoke up for himself, “I was an American, I have rights. I demand habeas corpses (cut him some slack, he never went to law school; and as at this point his body is a moldering corpse, maybe he's attempting a bad Crypt Keeper-type pun? Comic books were his speed), I demand my day in court!” Enchanted by his naivet? Peter caved in and agreed to take him before the judgment seat of God.
[FONT="] Peter recalled the bit of lawyerly wisdom that one who defends himself has a fool for a client and insisted that Dubya use Johnny Cochran as his advocate. After he got over his astonishment that the likes of a hired gun such as Cochran was one of the blessed, Dubya assisted his mouthpiece in preparing the best case possible. Cochran then made his arguments to the Almighty with all of his vaunted style and skill. Nonetheless his whole defense fell just about as flat as an anorexic tween girl’s bosom and God summarily decreed that Bush was to return to Hades, forthwith. At this joyless juncture Dubya emotionally spoke out of order and begged for a merciful reprieve. Moved, God stepped down from his throne of blinding glory, looking surprisingly like the comedian Bill Maher, and instructed Dubya to tell him in his own words why he didn’t deserve to be cast back to hell.
[FONT="] Well, Dubya proceeded to give God a load of politicianese to justify his crimes against humanity under the color of presidential authority. But alas, God, it turns out, despite being timeless, has precious little patience for self-justifying double-talk and curtly commanded Karl Marx, who now had his angel’s wings, to escort Bush back to hell. Back in hell Dubya’s dad asked him what it was like up above and could hardly believe his son’s fantastic account of seeing so many atheists and left-wingers, and of God’s striking resemblance to Bill Maher. “Well,” Bush senior dispiritedly remarked, “I was wondering why every time the toilets in the Democratic national headquarters flush a number two it materializes down here for poor ole Jerry Falwell to eat, but if Heaven’s a blue state and God’s issuing halos to dead Kennedys I guess that explains it.” Dubya, in a hushed tone, “You mean God’s the L-word? Who would have thunk it daddy, who would have thunk it?!”
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