By David Glenn Cox
An arrest warrant has been issued for the pastor of a Florida Mega Church for holding services during the quarantine. The pastor claimed his church had bought “machines” to clean the air. What is that? The old rope a dope? I’ll say something so stupid and so outrageous that you won’t dare ask me another question. Is it possible for an individual smart enough to manage a Jesus money farm with dozens of employees while at the same time being slow poke, you gotta see it to believe it stupid? Jim Baker uses the same schtick staring at the camera with his Alfred E. Newman, what me worry smile. Selling survivalist supplies, you know, something to snack on while you’re waiting for Jesus in the bunker.
Franklin Graham has been advertising liberally on CNN. In troubled times, what you need is God’s con men lifting coins from the pockets of the elderly. Are you scared and frightened? Have your children all moved away? Prayer warriors are standing by ready to take your credit card number twenty-four hours a day! But the ecumenical largesse isn’t divided evenly. Jehovah’s Witnesses trapped inside the house have resorted to ringing their own doorbells and proselytizing to each other. “Have you read this article in the Watchtower?” Mormon missionary bicycle sales are at the lowest level since the introduction of rubber tires.
The Cheeto’s zeal is abating in his short attention span theater performances. From the President of these United States to the host of that two AM informercial you’ve seen before. Long on promises short on relevance, “Isn’t there an easier way to get my shirts whiter?” He gives his monologue to loosen up the crowd , “We got a great show for you tonight, Some of the top executives in the country, really big, big people are going to come up here and kiss my ass for a while and Joan Embry of the San Diego zoo is also with us.
My first guest is the chairman and CEO for Phillip Morris tobacco, makers of some of America’s best cigarettes. America makes the best cigarettes. Remember Phillip Morris is the official tobacco company of the White House Pandemic team. My next guest is the CEO of United Technologies and they’ve graciously donated nine tons of jet airplane engine parts and several elevators in our fight against the virus, and we thank them for it. Isn’t it great? To live in the beautiful country and be in this beautiful garden under this beautiful sun, because it’s not safe to be closed up in the same room with you. That these great CEO’s so loosely affiliated with the pandemic would come all this way kissing my ass and sniffing around for a slice of the pie.
His Achilles heal exposed, flattery will get you Mick Mulvaney’s job or anything else you might require. Like a vending machine, put in the required amount and remove the product. Nero 2.0, Der leader has declared testing and shipping as important. We shall test and ship and we shall ship and test, all else are officially declared details. The Federal Government is using nineteen million ballpoint pens in our war against the virus. We’re shipping ninety-two pallets of Solo coffee cups and over three thousand air conditioners to fight the ventilation problem. Faux News Grandpa competes for airtime. If Andrew Cuomo is on an hour, the Cheeto shoots for hour and a half. Giving the news anchors a chance to go to the bathroom and catch up on emails.
Fixated by numbers weaving in lies as the primary color. Unaware that testing is good but grandpa, that the shipped sailed several weeks ago. Like a test to see if the house is on fire. The arithmetic’s are against it with the size of the population testing everyone is impossible. Testing only those who show symptoms in hospitals is asking who’s hungry in the drive thru. Testing helps plan and isolate and we are past that point. He’s making excuses for why he dropped the ball, it couldn’t be my fault, look at this shipping manifest! We sent nine thousand starter motors to Omaha this week!
Tens of millions of Americans doing their level best in this crisis and they have to be represented by the bumbling orange Captain Queeg. There’s something wrong here with the N-95 masks! The inventory is wrong and we’re going to stand here and count each and every mask until we find out who is right. It’s really just a simple math problem, “Psst, hey buddy, wanna buy some N-95 masks? Make you a good deal, they fell off a truck.” An orange Freudian slip, it takes one to know one. He who smelt it dealt it. If he were in charge of the hospital, he knows what he would do.
Crime and graft, ah, finally something he’s good at. The man sanctioned by the court for running a crooked charity ordered to shut down points fingers at others playing a solo on his electric distract a phone. The electric evangelist for corporate America. Concern for the victims is missing, absent without leave. The orange one praises corporate America as the new heaven. Streets paved in gold, its Mira Lago without all the white trash and gaudy furniture. He sees himself as the new messiah proclaiming his kingdom. He is the new Jesus, the new John Wayne defending the Alamo from the Mexicans. The new Napoleon, the new Walter Mitty.
While some on principles baptized
To strict party platform ties
Social clubs in drag disguise
Outsiders they can freely criticize
Tell nothing except who to idolize
And then say God bless him
While one who sings with his tongue on fire
Gargles in the rat race choir
Bent out of shape from society’s pliers
Cares not to come up any higher
But rather get you down in the hole
That he’s in – Bob Dylan