The final score of the Carolina-Alabama game. The revelation that Sookie Stackhouse is a faery. Lady Gaga’s meat dress. Charlie Sheen’s recent coke-fueled, racial-slur spewing blowup. JWoww. I predicted them all.
In addition to being a newspaper columnist, I’ve been blessed with the uncanny ability to see into the future. Now, it’s not a gift I’ve always had. Nope. It’s something that only emerged over the past few years. In fact, I can remember the day I first noticed my gift quite clearly.
I was sitting in Madra Rua, munching on fish and chips when I looked into my pint of Guinness. That’s when I saw it, the most fearsome creature I had ever seen, one that was written about in the Bible, the Antichrist himself. Or, as he’s known to you and me, Justin Bieber.
My hands trembled. My heart raced. My face went pale. I looked into the pint again. The glass was empty. Despite my fears, I ordered another one. I don’t know about you, but that’s what I call bravery.
Speaking of being all he-man and stuff, I think it’s about time all of us toughened up a bit. After all, things are about to get a whole helluva lot worse.
I know, I know. This election was supposed to have changed everything. It was supposed to be the day that we finally took back our country. It was supposed to be the day that we sent a message to the corrupt politicians and the Wall Street fat cats and the communists and the race baiters and the fifth columnists, a message which said that we were mad as hell and we weren’t going to take it anymore. And that we did — at Tea Party rallies, on online message boards, and in chain e-mails. But the election didn’t turn out exactly as planned.
I realize that I don’t really need to tell you what happened, but for our more inattentive readers, I feel that I must. And it all started with Alvin Greene. Simply put: He won.
Exactly how it happened, no one is sure, but that’s how it is with Alvin Greene. Things just have a way of turning out his way. Fortunately, his way and our way are often the same exact thing. One, we all have free high-speed internet access, with all the free porn we could ever want. And now it’s acceptable to howl whenever we’re faced with a question we don’t want to answer. “Do you know how fast you were driving, Mr. Haire?” “Noooooooo!” “Where do you think you’re going with that TV?” “Noooooooo!” “Would you like cracked pepper on your salad?” “Noooooooo!”
But most important of all, Alvin Greene succeeded where George Lucas and Stan Lee failed. He finally made it acceptable — nay, laudatory — for adults to play with action figures just so long as they’re of Alvin Greene. Arctic adventure Alvin, yes. Batman, no. Kung fu grip Green, sure nuff. Spider-Man, hells no. Alvin Greene in a bright orange prison jumpsuit? “Noooooooo!” And, for those of you who doubted, yes, Alvin’s plan pulled us out of this horrible, horrible recession.
Alvin’s victory on Election Day wasn’t the only shocker. Perennial candidate Ben Frasier beat Republican darling Tim Scott. Even though Scott would have been the only African-American GOPer in the U.S. House, diversity still won the day. Frasier is reportedly a member of one of the most underrepresented groups in Washington: Congressmen who don’t even live in the state they represent.
But there was one election night shocker that trumped Frasier’s victory: Jim Clyburn lost. Yes, the long-serving representative from one of the nation’s most gerrymandered districts was defeated. And the only thing more shocking than that is who he lost to: himself. Now, I know that may sound a bit confusing, but that’s what happened. Jim Clyburn is out, and a new Jim Clyburn is in. And this time he’s sporting a pointy, jet black goatee, and he has a penchant for emoting like William Shatner.
Now, no one was actually surprised when Nikki Haley won the governor’s race. It was inevitable, and it made a lot of people happy. The bigwigs at the SCGOP were glad that they could finally say that their party was no longer the party of old white men. The Tea Party folks were pleased that they had given the good ole boy network a nice little FU by electing a candidate who promised to not only thwart the Democrats at every turn but the Republicans too. And Mark Sanford was happy that someone would finally take his place as a go-to punch line in Jay Leno’s opening monologue. But no one — and I mean, no one — was happier than Will Folks. He landed a rather sweet book deal, and a Lifetime movie is also in the works. So far there’s been no word on a much-rumored porn parody.
Looking for Jack Hunter? He’s currently following Rand Paul in Kentucky. He’ll be back in a few weeks.