Send Pat Robertson to New Orleans

9/5/2005

Up until last week, New Orleans stood for the blues, jazz, gumbo, mint juleps, jambalaya, riverboat gambling, beignets, and a damn good time. The scene after Hurricane Katrina is a bit different. Now The Big Easy offers rats, alligators, snakes, raw sewage, industrial toxins and dead corpses floating through your living room. People are drowning in their attics. Cops are committing suicide. National Guardsmen are halting their rescue efforts to return fire at armed gangs carrying guns looted from WalMart. Welcome to Baghdad on the Bayou.

It's a tragic mess down there and we need someone capable of cleaning it up now. Someone with guts and credibility who can rally the troops and give hope to those who've lost everything. Someone who can restore the trust of the people in their government after a week's worth of official pissing contests and fumbling fools. Someone who will kick some well-deserved ass. But who?

Not George W. Bush. He had to cut short his vacation by a few days so he could hurry to Washington to high-five Big Dick Cheney and the price-gouging bastards running the oil industry because they've finally found an excuse to send the price of gasoline above three dollars a gallon.

Not FEMA head Michael Brown, who spent the week proving himself to be a disgracefully incompetent moron whose only success in life has been to suck up to the right people who could appoint him to jobs like the one he has and his previous one running Arabian horse shows.

Not Department of Homeland Security head Michael Chertoff, who instead of trying to coordinate the federal government's response to the hurricane, spent the weekend making mealy-mouthed excuses for showing up five days and thousands of deaths late.

No, forget those government guys doing their patented Three Stooges imitations. They've failed. Let's bring in a ringer from outside the government, preferably one with a direct line to God. You know who I'm talking about: None other than the American Ayatollah himself, Pat Robertson.

Ayatollah Pat, fresh from issuing a fatwa against Hugo Chavez, the president of Venezuela, is uniquely qualified to fix everything wrong in the disaster zone. First, he can answer the question on the lips of every resident of the region: Why? Pat would love to shower the depths of his Christian understanding on that question:

• God is punishing New Orleans for being the den of iniquity, drunkenness, and wanton behavior.

• You know what those women are doing at Mardi Gras? They paint their faces like sleazy Jezebels and then, believe it or not, they bare their breasts! Right there in public, can you believe that? Bare breasts! And some of those those bare breasts aren't too pretty either. What's come over these women? Feminism! That's right, feminism is the devil's tool that causes them to have abortions and become lesbians! Lesbians with bare, sagging tits!

• And that's not all. There's homosexual men down there, too! Oh Lord save us, they lay with one another and dress in women's clothing and sodomize each other's bunghole all night long. No wonder God smote them all with this glorious hurricane!

• Tinky Winky's dinky is stinky! (Oh, maybe that was Jerry Falwell. Who can tell the difference?)

Hallelujah! Ayatollah Pat has come in triumph to clean up New Orleans and pity the fool who might stand in his way. After all, the swirling cesspool that the city has become is pretty similar to Pat's view of Christianity.

By the way, you know what doomed fatwa victim Hugo Chavez has been doing this week? Offering Venezuelan food, water and fuel to Americans in the hurricane area. We ought to send some of our guys down there to take some lessons. Too bad Hugo's a dead man walking.
 
 

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