Thursday, October 28, 2004
Some Advice for the Campaign
Oh, so you’re not the reporter who misquoted me?
No, no. Heavens no. That would have been Kill Ba’al, the reporter for the Flaming Gorge of Death Daily. Folks get us mixed up all the time.
Hum. So where do I find this Kill Ba’al?
If I tell You, will You let go of my uvula? It’s kinda hard to talk like this.
Oh, yeah. Sorry. I’m just a little pissed off right now. I’m not usually like this.
Yeah, sure. It must be tough having your own family running against you. Especially when Your Son is outed like that.
Do I have to slap you down again? You like the taste of ashes? That sackcloth nice and comfy? My Son’s not a fag!
Whoaaa, big Fella. Wouldn’t matter to me if he was queer. Whatever works for Him, You know. You know I’ve always worshipped You. Never took much stock in those others. Not me, nope.
Yeah, right. Word in the book is, you’re a godless socialist. I checked before I came down.
Lies. Lies told by lying liars.
Are you calling my spies—er, I mean, angels, liars?
Listen. You want to win this election?
Then here’s what You do. No, no, listen to me a minute. Calm down. Christ, you’re a bundle of nerves. Look. You’re new at this. You’ve never been in an election before, right?
Well of course not.
So, what You need is an expert. A campaign manager who knows what he’s doing. You want the best, because only the best is good enough for the Holy One, Blessed Be He.
Right. I guess. You mean, someone who can run this campaign.
Riiiigghht. Someone who knows the ropes. Someone who can sway public opinion.
You know someone like that?
Goebbels. Joseph Goebbels.
That’s a familiar name. Where have I heard that? Maybe in some supplications a few years ago?
Maybe. But listen. I hear he’s available.
How do I get him? How much will it cost? This campaign is killing my treasury.
You need to see a guy named Robinson. Doug Robinson. He’s Goebbels’ manager. Manages a lot of famous dead people.
Robinson? That name’s familiar, too. Isn’t he a Franciscan monk? Or is he a Jesuit?
Oh, definitely a Jesuit. Right. Runs the Society of Jesus Dead Talent Agency, out of his home office. Yeah. Here’s his address.
Thanks, I appreciate that. Saves me the trouble of calling my office.
Look, no hard feelings, then. I’m gonna give you back your sheep and your health and, heck—I’ll even throw in a coupla tickets to the Springsteen concert.
You’re the best, man. The best. You can count on my vote.