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.