Friday, August 29, 2008


It all started Thursday night following Obama’s speech. Barack’s speech was good compared to most political speeches, but for Obama it wasn’t that great. He had to attack McCain on specifics and try to convince a large portion of America that he’s not a slow-cooking sleeper cell simmering in death-to-America curry, so Obama didn’t really hit his groove until the last 10 minutes or so.

The crowd’s not satisfied and wants more, so they cheer and chant until Obama strides back onto the stage for an encore.

It’s classic Obama. He opens with “Hope” and transitions back into “White Mother from Kansas redux” before launching into a 30-minute rendition of “Yes We Can.”

The crowd goes nuts. It’s like the 4th of July combined with Christmas, losing your virginity, and the first 20 minutes of a meth binge.

Strangers hug and dry hump—it’s not even sexual, it’s just instinctive human celebration humping.

Even men cry freely, and nobody calls them a fag or asks if their dog died.

Fences are mended, walls drop, and differences are forgotten. Deadbeat dad’s call their kids and offer to play catch and pay for their college. Mongooses cuddle up to cobras, and Arabs and Israelis settle their differences over a plate of bacon. The whole world is buzzing.  

Then, just when the crowd thinks Obama is done, he busts out a cover of “I Have a Dream” and then jams into “Fear Itself.” He blows everyone's mind.

Literally. Heads explode. It’s pure pandemonium.

Even people watching at home are blown away. 

By 2:00 AM, everyone who has heard the speech has spontaneously combusted.

The right wing was right, an excitable speaker can be very dangerous for America, but even they’re dead now, because the speech was on every TV channel, and lord knows if there’s one thing Americans can’t do, it’s turn off the TV.

In fact, the only people in the whole world who weren’t watching the speech where the protesters outside who learned the intricacies of global politics during their 17 grueling years of suburban life and believe that tight jeans and a bandana make you a rebel and mumbling “this sucks” is a viable form of decent.

Anarchy and snot-nosed punks jacked up on energy drinks now rule America by default.

It’s a stoner’s Utopia: no more corporations, no more army, and everyone has healthcare.

Except this guy’s your doctor.

Then on Saturday night, everybody runs out of their allowance, and their parents are too dead to give them more money, so society crumbles and they all kill each other. By 10:37 PM EST, they’re all dead and the world has ended.

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