I was gonna let this go. Let it be a part of a past life. Stay focused on my studies. Write my risk analysis of investing in South Africa. But this video came across my path again tonight and I can't go to bed without exorcising this demon. It's not new, but it is notable. The former half-term governor of Alaska and current talking sock puppet, Lambchop, is on a bus tour around American historical sites looking for "real Americans" with whom she can connect. Sigh. I guess that's not so wretched by itself, but if you're going to visit a site, at least read a dang book while you're on the bus or something. I know that asking Lambchop to read is, well, playing gotcha journalism and all. But still. There are cameras everywhere, and when you are going to visit Paul Revere's house, they're probably not going to ask you questions about snowmobiling. So when you ask Lambchop a 'gotcha' question like "What do you think of Paul Revere?" (may or may not be the actual question in this case), you get an answer like this:
You know, when cattle are grazing, they just don't pay any attention to what they are taking into their bodies and they tend to hoover up bits of barbed wire fence from time to time. This leads to a tearing of their stomach lining and intestines, and eventually premature death if not treated early enough. So ranchers have these AA-battery shaped magnets that they force-feed the ailing animal to gather in all the metal bits into one place. That way, the poor bovine can pass the strands of wire safely out. The Republican party is the cow, and in pursuing the religious right so hard for so many years to procure a faithful voter bloc, they sucked up some folks that are just plain more interested in hastening the second coming and letting Jesus sort out the mess than actually doing the heavy intellectual work that is required to fix our problems. And they attend grass roots party meetings like they attend church. This includes party primaries in which they choose presidential candidates. For this reason, I think Lambchop is good for Republicans. She is the magnet that gathers to herself all the idiot mouth-breathers who would vote for an oil can if it believed in God. And when she loses out on the nomination and goes off to run as an independent, she'll take that steaming mass of faithful folk out into the open air where they can do "real American" stuff, like meth. And they can skip all of those elitist things like "elections" and "governing" while they wait for other "real Americans" to come pick them up and carry them to victory. At that point, hopefully, anyone tempted to do so will look and say, "hey, that there is bullshit."
So apparently the action film director Tony Scott has been hanging out with Sylvester Stallone and George Lucas a bit too much lately. Last night I was disappointed to learn from Dirty Harry that Scott is on board for a new Top Gun movie. This idea couldn't get worse with a script from VH1's I Love the 80's crew and a working title of "Maverick's Lost That Lovin' Feeling." Why must Hollywood tamper with our childhood memories like this? Just like Rocky Balboa. Just like Rambo 4. Just like Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Deuce. Just like FREAKING STAR WARS!!! (In which Natalie Portman did indeed suck). This is bound to suck. How in the world does Scott intend to recapture this, the most magical scene in the history of cinema (sorry for the Italian dubbing):
I'm pretty sure that's the scene that turned the tide for George Michael.
It's kinda funny how much press has been given to that evangelical broadcaster's prediction that the world would end today at 6pm. I guess anything that makes those yahoos look more like yahoos is okay by me. I personally don't believe that God is going to give anybody a tip-off to when the end will come. Certainly not to some loudmouth with a microphone that can't keep a secret. The point of the thing is to grab them folks that dun earned the right to not burn. God wants folks to live right as a habit, not ignore him until the preacher pulls the bus around to take you to the space port.
It reminds me of when my mom used to constantly ask me to clean my room (that's right, mom is my proxy for God in this story, because she's the most God-like person I know.) I would usually ignore her until I wanted to go somewhere or do something fun and she would say, "Sorry, your room is filthy. I can't help you." So I would run up to my room and stuff all of my dirty clothes in the back of the closet and come back fifteen minutes later and tell her I was done and ready to go. It took a long time for me to understand the principal of orderliness that she was trying to teach me.
Now the first thing I do when I get out of bed is turn around and make the bed. I never throw clothes on the floor. They go directly into the hamper or back onto the hanger, and shoes go on the rack. Mom never forced me to Get Back To Your Room And Clean It This Instant! She simply let me know that there would be consequences for not doing what she asked. But I never knew when those consequences would arrive.
Pastor Carnac frequently receives messages
In this recent round of billboard warnings and AM radio insanity, Pastor Carnac proved that his mouth is hotter than his math when he calculated today to be the day. And he probably felt pretty good about himself for warning everybody to set things right with their maker. But even if you know that you're a week away from the end, guess what. It's too late. Even a month out.
If it hasn't been a priority of yours prior to the final warning, saying a few Hail Marys isn't gonna get you in to the VIP room. It's not like the Salahis are crashing the party. We're not dealing with the Secret Service here. I'm willing to bet that cherubim are much more thoroughly impenetrable. And I don't think there'll be some sort of advance warning. If you're "in," you'll know it when it happens. If you're not, you'll know.
What I do think is that God gives out signs so anybody tuned in can file it away in their Affirmations File. One of those signs occurred this Friday. What was this sign of the times, you ask?
One of the pillars of the universe, Macho Man Randy Savage, passed away.
Some of you may think that Macho Man was a mere wrestler. But my theory is that he was actually one of the original three pillars holding the universe in place. The other two are Andre The Giant and, of course, Hulk Hogan. The Giant went down in 1993, but the other two have held up remarkably well considering the pressure they're under. Macho Man's collapse was like throwing a rock into the smooth, glass-like pond of space-time. The ripples radiated outward in all directions, which is probably what Pastor Carnac was picking up on. It's not the end, but it is probably a good time to get your life in order. Once Hulk Hogan goes down, it's too late for us sinners. The lesser buttresses like The Rock and John Cena won't be able to support the weight on their own, and the universe will collapse onto itself. You heard it here first.
Now, if you listen closely, you can hear the past echoing in your ears, and remember a time when giants bore the world on their backs:
Don't say Macho Man didn't try to warn us. Anybody listening would have heard it in that video. No more questions.
