Our
New President
By Disco Stu - Editor in
Chief : Issue 5, Vol. II
 It
was the best of times and it was the worst of
times...
The year 2000 has been an odd year politically.
We saw four relatively uncharismatic candidates
campaigning for the nominations of the Republican
and Democratic parties, while the Reform party
resembled an exhibit that would make P.T. Barnum
proud. The year outside the world of politics
wasn't stable either. The usually strong economy
began to sink, the weather has been more than
turbulent, athletes are being signed to contracts
that would make Bill Gates frown, and the XFL...well,
the less said, the better.
But, what really
made headlines--and what was really screwed up
about 2000--was the presidential election. Admittedly, it was an exciting one, but the whole
mess with the Florida recount (and the subsequent
result) is what really bugs me. Even more freaky,
the candidates displayed uncharacteristic traits
after the mess was over. Al Gore, who is known
for his stiff and robot-like demeanor conceded
the election with charm and grace, and then went
on to party like an 1980s hair band member on the
same night. George W. Bush, meanwhile, has done a
skillful job of delegating. Plus, Bush, an
obvious moron and poster-boy for the ill-effects
of crack use, has won the presidency. He won, goddammit! How? Well, who knows, but this is a
sure sign of the apocalypse.
I wonder what'll
happen at Dubya's inauguration...
In-og-yoo
what?!
On the morning of his inauguration, George W.
Bush will declare the occasion a national
holiday. He will declare himself Lord Dictator
and Keeper of the Faith. He will wear a toga made
completely from the flesh of little children as
he, his queen, and his legion of mistresses make
their way toward the capitol. But, no, he won't
be arriving with the outgoing president in a
motorcade as tradition dictates. Instead, the
outgoing president will be sacrificed by his
followers in the name of George W. Bush, as the
new president is carried manually by muscle-bound
midgets.
Bush quickly
creates his own religion where he is the one and
only God. To celebrate the day, lamb's blood will
be splashed on dozens of virgins before they are
ceremonially deflowered in front of the
Washington Memorial. Bush will look on while he
is fanned with a large ostrich feather by a
member of his harem. On the steps of the capitol,
Bush will walk barefoot on rare lavender roses
before the fateful moment arrives.
At the top of the
steps, the Chief Justice places a crown made of
laurel leaves on Bush's head as the crowd
repeatedly chants "Long live George! Long
live George!" After ritually eating the
heart of the now-sacrificed President Clinton, he
raises his hand to signify quiet. Then, in a
dramatic display of power, George W. Bush, in all
his God-like glory, declares himself a new Caesar
for a new Empire. "Deus ergo sum,"
he says. Deus ergo sum, indeed.
And then he wakes
up with a major hangover. It was all a dream, Dubya. It was all a dream.
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