Blowing Rogues

This past week, a furor has erupted outside of bookstores nationwide.  No, it’s not a new release of J.K. Rowlings lusting after young boys with broomsticks.  Nor is it another ridiculous story penned by Dan Brown about the Church impaling babies to keep us from an age-old secret.  So what are the long lines for?  To get Americans worked up in such a frenzy over the written word, then it must be something extraordinary.

And something extraordinary it is.  Yes, my reader(s),  it’s the memoirs of one of the greatest thinkers in modern history.  A woman so well-traveled that she can almost see Kovylunueskin, Russia from her house.  A woman so well-read that she had to dictate only 25% of her memoirs to a 7th grade spelling champion.  A woman so well-spoken that she can talk nonstop for nearly 15 months, and still manage to not actually say anything.  A woman so well versed in just about everything, that she has been dubbed the Last Renaissannce Man – If The Last Renaissance Man Had a Big Pair of Tits.

Sarah Palin. Captain my Captain.  Please spread to us your pearls of wisdom.  Please share with us your world view (if the world was 11 miles in diameter).  Please pick up the fallen scepter, and champion the cause of the down-trodden…of the commonfolk…of the honest citizens who regularly grace the front page of peopleofwalmart.com.

Jesus wept yet again!

This is your champion?  A hockey mom who gets road rage in her SUV?  A woman who could have been a principal character on “Fargo”?  Are you people really that stupid?  In my day, the boyars (noble pricks) tried to pull stunts like this all the time on the simple Wallachian peasant-folk (without the book signing tours, of course).  In a cruel endgame of manipulation and power-flexing, they would steal from the common citizen with one hand while pointing accusingly at my family with the other.  An old trick straight out of the Roman Senators’ playbook.  An old trick that Mrs Palin is employing now by screaming “Death Panels” in convalescent homes, while lining her ample pockets with your hard-earned cash.

She is Not one of you

This woman is a patrician in a PTA president’s spectacles.  She, like all of your so-called Democrats and Republicans, is nothing but a modern boyar.  Your boyars may hide under the guise of elected officials, but trust me, I have executed enough of them in my day to know what their shit smells like.  Your country was bought and sold more than 50 years ago.  No one in power, let alone Mrs. Palin, will want to give it back to you.

The Piper at the Gates of Dawn

What you need is a real savior.  A Champion of Change.  A “Yes We Can” kind of guy.  Someone who will pick up that scepter, and emancipate you all from mental slavery.  Someone who will reveal to you the ugly truth hidden beneath your brown-stained noses.

What you need is none other than Rowdy Roddy Piper.  Recall in ‘They Live” when he got into that epic fight with Keith David over a pair of glasses.  After 175 suplexes and 62 piledrivers, he finally coerced him into put the glasses on.  And David’s world came crashing down around him, for the veil was lifted from his eyes.  The alien overlords were among us, and without those special glasses, who could tell who was who?

You, my halfwitted peasant friends, are living in such a world.  And what you need is not what you think you need, nor is it what you particularly want either.  What you really need is a certain Mr. Piper to kick the living shit out of you, and make you put on that pair of glasses.  Then you will see what Sarah Palin really is.