Thursday, November 04, 2004


The Sun and the Moon

"Catfish Billy," President Lincoln shouts over the buzzing and the whirring of the bugs, "I thought you said that bomb would take out Blattodea!"

The battle rages all around them. The attackers seem uncannily resistant to their sprays and their bombs. And they keep coming. Every time they manage to quell one wave, another wave sweeps up over the top of their dead, and pushes onward. Lincoln is starting to think the battle is unwinnable. The insurgents are just too strong.

"It did take out Blattodea," Catfish Billy shouts. "Our operatives on the ground confirmed the kill."

"Then where the hell are these bugs getting their backbone?" Lincoln shouts.

Suddenly the battle stops. It is apparently a ceasefire, decided upon collectively, instantaneously, silently by the hive mentality of the opposite side. The bug sea parts. In through the open path step two familiar figures, covered in iridescent green scarab beetles.

"If it ain't the sun and the moon," Lincoln says dryly.

"You know I hate to be called that," Sun Myung Moon says. "Abe, you know my wife Hak Ja Han, don't you?"

"Never had the privilege," Lincoln says. "Nice to meet you, ma'am."

"She's God too," Sun Myung Moon says calmly. "She and I together. Divine consorts."

"Oh," Lincoln says, "the election results are in? Sorry, I've been busy."

"Yes," Sun Myung Moon says, the beetles on him quivering worshipfully. "We won by a small but respectable margin."

"How'd you manage to squeak past Hermes in the Electo--er, Hermectoral College?" Lincoln says. "He seemed to have that one pretty much sewn up."

"We reached, er, an arrangement," Sun Myung Moon says.


"I won the popular vote, he won the Hermectoral College vote," Sun Myung Moon explains. "So we've divided things up."

"You're both God?" Lincoln says.

"We all are," Sun Myung Moon says. "Hak Ja Han, Hermes, and I."

"And part of the arrangement," Lincoln says, "is that bugs rule, I'm guessing?"

"Sorry," Sun Myung Moon nods sadly, "but you and your boys are out. It's back to the bottom of the lake in Weatherford for you. The liberal revolution is over. The Christian Right will have their theocracy in this country."

"I heard you beat Yahweh, Jesus, and Mary in the polls," Lincoln says. "You're going to let them rule?"

"Good heavens no," Sun Myung Moon says. "I'm installing Satan as my deputy in the U.S. He'll make sure the country does my bidding."

"The Christian Right with Satan at their head?" Lincoln says, scratching his beard.

"Well," Sun Myung Moon says, "he'll be wearing the Yahweh suit I built him, of course."

Lincoln nods thoughtfully. He looks around at his troops, and whistles for his loyal devil-water-cow Bessie. She clops up and he climbs on.

"Boys?" he says. "I guess that's our cue."

And Abraham Lincoln and his liberal fish clop and flop out of the White House.

The triumphant insects, cold-blooded creatures without a limbic system, do not cheer. They simply set about devouring all the art.

Sun Myung Moon turns to one of his mantid lieutenants.

"Get me Laura Bush on the line," he says.

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