The death of Tim Russert has had one good effect on the nation: we’re spared the endless spewing of partisan douchebaggery for a few days while the media indulges in the Life and Miracles of Saint Russert retrospective. As annoying as this will be, it will still be a welcome break from the political burlesque that is the US General Election pre-game show.
I generally try to ignore the political campaign season, because I value my freedom. If I were forced to endure the shameless pandering and barely-veiled slander of the various campaigns for long, I’d go berserk and end up in a mental institution or prison- maybe both.
This particular campaign season has been particularly difficult to ignore. It apparently started back when the Earth’s crust started to cool, and won’t end until the Supreme Court rules on the inevitable challenge to the November election results in mid-December (of this year, I hope). The hysteria surrounding this election has not flagged one iota. If anything, the followers of the respective candidates have grown ever more rabid with each passing day. McCainiacs shriek endlessly about the death of American civilization as we know it should the Antichrist get elected, while the disciples of the Obamessiah literally flagellate themselves into bloody lather about the many miracles He will perform if we only pray into a voting booth to Him.
A pox on both their houses.
I will not try to tell anyone which candidate is best. Every election is a choice between a turd sandwich and a giant douche, so the word best doesn’t really apply. I’ve looked at both candidates, and neither one of them strikes me as being good for this country. Furthermore, the most vocal followers of both candidates are generally certifiable whackjobs. This does not inspire confidence. Since neither candidate seems to be a good choice, I refuse to vote for either one.
This is becoming a pattern with me. I wrote in Jon Stewart for the last presidential election. In 2000, I voted for Xenu. Some time back, I mentioned that I would be voting for Ralph Wiggum and Lisa Simpson, but I’ve changed my mind, having found a candidate who fits my requirements far better.
Yes, that’s right. I will be writing in Great Cthulhu for President of the United States in November. What’s not to like? Unlike either of the current candidates, Cthulhu is straightforward and open about his intentions. He will not discriminate against any race, religion, or gender. Cthulhu will reward his followers with cosmic powers, so the Earth will be engulfed in cataclysm from the resulting bacchanal of riotous freedom.
The Servants of Cthulhu are notorious for their selfless diligence in working toward the resurrection of their dread Master- destroying those who discover their secrets, conversing with creatures from beyond the sky, and holding eldritch, clandestine meetings to pass on the knowledge of the Great Old Ones. When you think about it, they’re enormously preferable to the followers of McCain or Obama.
Why choose the lesser Evil?
Here’s a little filksong on the subject:
(to the tune of Wichita Lineman, by Glenn Campbell)
I am a follower of Cthulhu, and I lead a mad horde
Searching everywhere for our vanished Overlord.
And though we need him more than want him
Still we’ll have him for all time
When his city of R’lyeh
Ascends from the sli-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-me!
You see, I met this mad Arab, and he showed me his book.
I thought it couldn’t hurt just to have one little look.
And though I couldn’t read the language,
it did something to my mind.
Now I’m searching for something
I’d rather not fi-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-nd!
Current status: Nauseous
Current music: The Future Soon by Jonathan Coulton