ToadSpawn, Be Gone! the Exorcizm of GeorgeBush from America's Soul 

Appendix K .. Chief Injustice Karlsputin Rove

    Et tu, Morford? Karlsputin Rove has tu too? I knew that the 12ftTall Lîzards Disguised as Human Beings Who Purport to Lead Us had intimidated, paid off, or drugged almost all of us – but you Morford? This is an icepick in the eye. You write a salaciously delicious column ostensibly, almost erotically trashing Karlsputin – I felt like I should be wearing black leather boots to read it. It was swell. It was magnificent in moments. Wary as I am of even my own reflection in the mirror these fateful days, I was drawn in like the little bird following the trail of tasty crumbs. I felt safe.

     Even past little-bird-eating-crumbs-safe in my totem, I felt otter safe paddling gleefully in the oceanic elixir of your offerings of tsunamic comeuppance for the pinguid pipsqueak at bloody LAST. I was frabjousing in splashing joys. You were my Prince Felix Yussupov, the assassin of the original Rasputin, my assassin with the excaliber of ridicule, kill ‘im with unkindness, and I was all but on the wings o’ love, Morford¹, certainly a few feathers of devotion. I began to hear song again. I remembered butterflies.

       Oh brave new world, that has no spouse-trasher Karlsputin in it. No one to make Lee Atwater look like Gandhi. No one to play maggotball. No one to pushpoll, the insidious insinupolls that infamously felled Ann and John & Cindy. No one to Willie-Horton Max with sinister Saddam grim-picts. (Of course I suppose the reason why Karlsputin couldn’t walk in Mr. Cleland’s moccasins is because Mr. Cleland who did go to <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags” />Vietnam got both his legs blown off in combat and can’t wear moccasins any more.) No “double super secret” leaking to reporters to intimidate whistleblowers saying, “We'll even go past you to your family, Chuckles — When you choose to blow the whistle, you're not just risking yourself, but also your family. Wanna think thrice about it?” No more Mr. Rove, an official with zero scruple – with no scruple or ethical pebble in his shoe. Bete noir, be gone!

   I was skipping along the yellow brick road in ruby slippers. Maybe now we could quit spending $14000 a minute(sic) on the fantasy Missile Crackpot Scheme aka Star Wars. We could raise the minimum wage, offer universal healthcare, and all the other fair and lovely humane things that could be done by sane people undrugged by that potent hallucinogen, the drug-cocktail of religiopatriotism. Tra la tra la tra la. As I read your column, my heart opened trustingly like a flower, seeing the  Buenopia where things aren’t perfect, but are good enough for the pursuit of silliness.

   And then through your very pen, you Morford, ye gods, Karlsputin Rove struck with his terrible swift malice – there in boschian technicolor on the most gigantic inner screen I have ever seen while screaming was Chief Injustice Karlsputin Rove with his red and bulging little piggy eyes glinting in triumph at me, the necrotic glisten of his soulrot sweat increased by the weight of his judicial robes under which he, as we later heard from an attending clerk, wore nothing but a sequined solid-gold codpiece.

    He reached with his hell-slime tentacles even into your brilliant brain and made you a tool of his mad devices. I am now blind from that gruesome and clearly indelible sight – it is the last thing I saw before I was felled near to death, surely preferable to this vision now playing ever in the Times Square of my once-jubilant brain. Karlsputin always wins. His the evil the evil always outmaneuvers any hope or ebullience we might have mustered. Chief Injustice Karlsputin Rove. Doom’s thunder has sounded.

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Fare well,

pogblog

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¹Morford's terrific column America's Big Malignant Tumor

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Remember to check pogblog's Glossary for tasty words like 'pinguid.'

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04:26:44a.pdt.us  11 Dog . Oc . Wolf . North  tzol 50  07.21.05 thur 8783§24d8h36m59s

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