Credit

I should acknowledge that the last two posts were originally published in The Advocate, Santa Clara University's School of Law newspaper. The first in September and the seond in October. You can view the full paper at www.theadvocate.us.
Now to repeat what I commented on in both of those posts about blogging. For the last couple of months my attempts to post have been plagued by technical difficulties. I believe I have finally found my way around those difficulties and will therefore resume blogging on a relatively regular basis. With luck I won't offend too many people. (Not that this should be a problem considering my readership.)
So check back on a semi-regular basis for new content and word fun.

Blasphemy Anyone?

Here’s the first couple posts of a new series of posts because I’ve just discovered Blogger for Word.

It seems as if the Second Coming is nearly upon us. The news is filled with wars and rumors of wars, natural disasters disrupt the lives of millions across the globe, and the sinful core of man rises ever closer to the surface. If we are to survive we need someone to guide us from beneath our burdens and lead us to the promised land of righteousness and love. Who can save us from our sins? Who can prevent the burning torment prophesied by John of old? Who can rescue us from the demon?

Word on the street is: George Bush.

Yep, George Bush.

Descended from a line of kings—I mean presidents—Bush was born to the virgin Barbara (isn’t every woman a virgin at one time?) As a child he was protected from harm, hedged in by the loving guidance of his father. An idyllic youth allowed him to avoid many of the temptations which beguile the ordinary human, things like responsibility and duty. On many occasions he was lifted up in visions (otherwise known as blackouts) and communed with heavenly beings (in the reserves.)

As he came into his own and began to preach his father’s message, Bush chose to associate with the kinds of people eschewed by Democrats: publicans and sinners. He pitied the poor upper class and taught them of his father’s ways at every chance. Before long his following grew and his destiny gained sharper focus. Yet still he seemed destined to remain downtrodden and beaten by his enemies.

Luckily Bush had Rehnquist the Justice to prepare the way and testify to the masses of Bush’s divine mission. In what seemed a baptism of fire, Rehnquist the Justice helped Bush fulfill his father’s commands and installed Bush in his rightful post. Unfortunately Rehnquist the Justice offended the wrong people and through a series of secret machinations lost his head. Bush mourned the loss of his friend, but knew that he had been born for something else, something greater.

When the time came his preparations at Camp David and at his ranch in Texas seemed all but inadequate. For Bush, the Garden of Gethsemane came on a fateful day in September. How could he go on? How could he face the temptation and the torment of what he knew he must do? How could he accomplish his father’s designs under such a crushing blow? The devil worked hard on Bush that day, but Bush remained strong.

He withstood Satan’s trials and, although betrayed by a certain CIA director, went calmly to his fate. He withstood the persecutions and taunts of the Democrats in stoic silence, the lashings of a fickle France with barely a grimace, and the terrible thorns of an undecided U.N. without shame. All of this led to his ultimate sacrifice, his final fame.

In the name of his father George Bush let himself be crucified on the cross of Iraq.

Just over a year later his closest friends went to visit his entombed ratings only to find the negative numbers rolled back by an angel from Massachusetts who proclaimed: “He is not here. His popularity is risen.”

How can anyone dispute Bush’s divine appointment, his supernal purpose? He is the one who will lead us to the Promised Land...he already has. His life is filled with inspired parallels to a greater god. Even if one disputes Bush’s divinity, one can not dispute that the miracle of his resurrection rivals even that of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, who unlike Bush, was truly inspired.  

Confirmation Hearings Jam Senate

Here’s my September column for the paper. Now that I can post from Word I can put a whole bunch of stuff up. And this is just the beginning. Ha ha ha.

“Will you obey the law, and not make it?” Senator Orrin Hatch leans to the microphone and asks, his face red with religious zeal.

Across the senate chamber, in a banana chair provided for the hearings, sits the president’s appointee for head of the new Office of Homeland Justice.

Homeland Justice? What’s that you ask? It’s the new cabinet making department. President Bush felt it intergral [sic] to the protection of our nation’s nucular [sic] peanut butter supplies to create a new department designed to do nothing but criticize carpenters.

Personally I say leave the woman alone, she’s anemic (That’s anorexic Mr. President) after all, she wouldn’t even eat the nucular [sic] peanut butter if you gave it to her. That is, of course, if the Office of Homeland Justice approves the joint work on that cupboard.

Why, some have asked, is President Bush reallocating such valuable assets as the FBI, the CIA, and the CSI to comb over every piece of hair on Dick Cheney’s balding scalp? The answer is simple: Jenna and Barbara found the liquor cabinet. Not only that, but the last carpenter Bush hired to hide the unprotected spirits from his charmingly inebriated daughters got distracted by the glare off the vice president’s pate, misfired his nail gun, and killed two secret service agents. As a result the country’s terror alert level skyrocketed to puce.

Advisors to the president maintain that the new Office of Homeland Justice is a response to liberal judges who have legalized everything from gay marriage to women’s suffrage to sliced bread.

The latter is of utmost concern, according to Condoleeza Rice, Secretary of State. She said, “Unless this nation interdicts the influx of sliced bread, we may face a nucular [sic] disaster of unprecedented proportions.”

Of course, as everyone knows, nucular [sic] peanut butter is only dangerous when mixed with sliced bread and a dangerous chemical commonly referred to as “jelly.”

The CIA found evidence of several attempts to ship the illegal “jelly” compound into the United States. These attempts, Rice said, are perpetrated by our comely neighbors to the North. She finished her statement by re-emphasizing the danger of sliced bread and asked that anyone seeing said bread contact their local carpenter.

Many voices across the kitchen proclaim this is a Republican ploy to further grow the corrosive mold that is our government. They are not alone. Protests, too, have erupted across the nation. In San Francisco picketers marched with signs that read: “Sliced Bread is a Hoax,” “What’s the Next Best Thing?” and “Keep the Government out of the Kitchen.”