Jukebox Hero

Here at the imaginary think-tank known as Crack Whores for Good Government and its imaginary subsidiary the Serious Poo-Poo Institute of Technology (S.P.I.T.), we have a basic theory that we tout here at the old KIAV known as the suppository theory.

You see, it seems that once upon a time, a doctor gave a man a box of suppositories. The man continued on this course of treatment for some time with little result. In a follow-up visit, the man said to the doctor, he said, “Doc, for all the good these are doing me, I might was well be shoving them up my ass!”

Well our theory goes that, generally, conservatives have actually ingested a suppository the traditional way. But this is no ordinary suppository. It is a rusty, jagged sucker that really smarts going up in there, so there’s this specialized syringe that they use, but often part of the syringe breaks off and is left lodged up there. Anyway, the suppository is then shot into the person, traveling throughout the body, spreading throughout all kinds of horrible ideas and other flotsam, such as poop, meaningless phrases drawn from the John Galt manifesto, more poop, and an odd attraction to tall lanky goat-looking blonde chicks who bear an Adam’s apple. Eventually, the rusty thing enters the person’s brain, severing the corpus callosum, allowing the person to place full faith into an ideological system that persistently reassures him that it is absolutely okay to be an asshole.

I believe that this theory has been put to the test, specifically in the weird hero worship of a certain broad from Wasilla.

By all reasonable metrics, Prudence Palin ought to be a national embarrassment. She was plucked from relative obscurity as governor of the 47th least populous state in the nation by a hornily desperate presidential campaign, and she promptly proved herself to be simultaneously in way over her head and oddly uncooperative. She spontaneously combusted on national television several times before finding her role as the nation’s leader in unleashing one of our nation’s most primal energies, that of racial hatred and putrid scapegoating. Never before in my lifetime had the United States been closer to a Nazi hate-fuck than it was when all eyes were on Prudence Palin during the 2008 presidential campaign. Then, partially due to her inclusion on the ticket, the McWeirdsmile ticket lost miserably, and she skulked back to Alaska and sparred in the media with the teenage boy who knocked up her little home-schooled daughter and with the late-night television personality who dared to point out such a hypocrisy. THEN, unbelievably, Prudence Palin RESIGNED as governor and treaded water to convince you and me that her resignation was good leadership.

But she’s still a hero to these people. Prudence Palin should be back home in Wasilla 12 pounds heavier from drowning her failed miserable feelings with bon-bons and sherry. But she’s not. There she was on the TV there just today, proudly displaying the notes she’d written on her palm. Prudence Palin is a rock star to these people. And I believe that fact supports my theory that these people have been possessed by the previously discussed rusty brain implant. I also believe it spells trouble for Democrats.

Because our rock star currently occupies the White House. But our rock star is more Robert Palmer to their Courtney Love over there. We got smart and elected competence. But competence doesn’t always think it’s necessary to leap down into the mud and start ripping shirts. No, our guy has actually believed in himself and in his abilities and the country’s abilities and that he could get this mutha done and that that would be all that would matter. And that’s what he’s done, by the way. I mean, you wanna talk about jobs? This Obama guy single handedly saved a million jobs by saving the auto industry, and all he’s taken for it is a bunch of crap.

No, our rock star/superhero, he’s exceptional, but he’s beleaguered. And he can’t be the only one. There have to be more rock stars on our team damnit Jim. And I just don’t see it. And I think there’s a reason.

Superman doesn’t kick Lex Luthor’s ass by apologizing for his superpowers. Batman doesn’t lock the Joker up at Arkham by being humble about his kick-ass ride. And Prudence Palin didn’t become this conservagoat deity by blushing and stumbling over herself to apologize for looking like a jackass with Charlie Gibbons and Katie Koorick. Whatever their superpowers, these (fictional and real) folks have gained their notoriety by embracing them and exercising them with full force.

Democrats, however, often seem apologetic about their awesome superpowers, which is a shame. Because we shouldn’t be. We’re the man with the plan, figuratively. Call us tax-and-spend? Of course that’s what we are, you jackass, because that’s what government is established to do. Call me a “liberal?” With a capital “L,” sucker, so spell it right.

This is why I was so utterly, melt-in-your-mouth happy to see Anthony Weiner completely lose his shit on the floor of the House. That guy is one of our superheroes, as is Alan Grayson. I can’t name too many others.

But we need more.

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