August. So hot. Sweat sheeting down the small of my back like the spotless rinse at a no-touch car wash. Luckily, not all Americans are spending August laying naked in front of a fan, as I am. No, there are citizens among us who realize that a battle is raging in the corridors of power, and nothing less than the very heart and soul of our republic is at stake. These foot soldiers of freedom have seized our town halls to loudly, incoherently speak truth to power. They understand that any attempts to reform the inefficient health insurance industry can lead only to a totalitarian dystopia, where robot overlords taser the masses toiling in cavernous titanium mines, while the ruling elites read The New Yorker and eat various cheeses in flying diamond yachts. So these prescient patriots are turning out in droves to let their controversial message be heard: they are absolutely opposed to euthanizing the elderly and infirm.
Bold? Courageous? That ain't the half of it.
Because everybody knows that Barack "Barry" Hussein Sorento Lepanto Sargento "Obama" and his Chicago 1960's radical recycling Woodstock Nazi cabal will stop at nothing to crush pesky free-thinkers who dare to dissent. Just picture it: you get the call to service Lady Liberty. Scared? Maybe. But then maybe you like fear, because you don't even know what it is. So you take it to the streets John Hancock style, busting into your local Nevada town hall meeting, screaming bald eagle splashed across your face, the entire text of the US Constitution tattooed on your bare, muscular chest. A broad sword in one hand, a semi-automatic flintlock musket in the other. "Harry Reid!" you cry, your heroic baritone bringing the proceedings grinding to a halt and shaking the assembled sheeple out of their fluoride-induced stupor. "You wanna kill my grandpa? You gotta get through me first." The Senate Majority Leader's lips purse, then twist into a tight smile as a thin, dry chuckle shakes his suspiciously academic frame. "Nice try, comrade - but our undesirables are happy to sacrifice their lives, so that the state can continue feeding the proles. Now...ATTACK!!!" Suddenly, your keen peripheral vision senses SEIU/ACORN shock troops rushing in from both sides to end you. THUNK, WOOSH, SCHWIING!!! You gracefully, effortlessly make quick work of the thugs, flying through the air as you shoot and slice like a magician, then landing on stage, crouched in front of the shocked Nevada Congressman. "Filibuster this," you quip, then jump up like really high in the air, BANG! Roundhouse kick to the head, Reid crumples, his face falls off, turns out he was a Swedish robot all along. Everybody cheers and carries you off like a hero to a sexy pool party with lots of burgers and dogs and a zip line from the roof of the house into the hot tub. Thus Fourth of July 2: August 14th is born, the Grand Canyon is knocked down to make a monument in your honor, the end. Do I really have the stones to pull of something that like? Probably not, but thankfully there are people who imagine themselves in scenarios like this every day. And those people are out there right now, dominating the conversation on health care reform.
Now there are some lame-ass nerds out there who will just keep on talking noise, like, "People keep yelling about socialism, but how does health care reform constitute socialism? Doctors and hospitals will still be private entities, there will still be private health insurance. Hell, there probably won't even be a public insurance option in the final version of the bill. And these people who claim they oppose any and all government-run health care - do they want to abolish the VA system and Medicare?" To which all I have to say is, boo! Boo! You're fired! Keep the IRS away from my prostate! You are the Hitler! Canada is worse than the Khmer Rouge! Boo!
Then just sit back and savor the sweet, sticky taste of victory. Bing-bong, let that freedom ring. You're welcome, Thomas Jefferson.
But victory over who, or what? Good question. To some, it's victory over an illegal alien who usurped the presidency in blatant violation of the Constitutional law he supposedly taught at the alleged "University of Chicago". Of course, jackbooted elites would claim that the birther movement has been discredited, just because there is absolutely no evidence to back up their claims. But that's just it. There is no evidence. The birthers were on the right track, but they're missing the glaring, obvious truth, too mind-boggling to comprehend. Like how people think the moon landing footage was shot on a soundstage in Area 51, when in fact we brought the moon itself to Area 51 in order to film our astronauts driving buggies and hopping around. Same deal.
And the flabbergasting reality? Barack Obama isn't real. World Net Daily frequently points out that "documentation still not available for Obama includes kindergarten records, Punahou school records, Occidental College records, Columbia University records, Columbia thesis, Harvard Law School records, Harvard Law Review articles, scholarly articles from the University of Chicago, passport, medical records, files from his years as an Illinois state senator, Illinois State Bar Association records, baptism records and adoption records." Does it get any fishier than this? Why is he the only politician in the United States that hasn't released these materials? We've all seen John Boehner's third-grade cursive workbook. We've all touched Lindsey Graham's boutonniere from junior prom. Why is there no similar evidence of Barack Obama's existence? If you can't answer that, you better open your eyes, man. Consider these facts:
•Barack Obama's Kenyan birth certificate turned out to be phony, and his Hawaiian birth certificate isn't even a birth certificate. Why would a purportedly real person have so many fake birth certificates?
•Eye witnesses claim he was born in both a Mombasa slum and an Indonesian madrasah. How many real people do you know who were born in two places at the same time?
•He uses teleprompters, which no other human being has used ever.
•Hawaiian state officials have repeatedly insisted that he was born in Hawaii. Gee, I didn't realize Hawaiian shirts come in BROWN!
•For 220 the United States had only white presidents, and then all of a sudden we get a non-white president. And we're supposed to buy that?
•The White House has not once responded to my hundreds of requests for the blood, hair, or semen sample needed to verify that the President exists. The White House could make this go away in five minutes if they wanted to. Where is the semen?!?!
So what is he? A hologram? A djinn? A Sim? I won't rest until we find out. That's my part in the revolution. And to my compatriots on the front lines, turning our civic discussions into catcalling competitions, all I can say is: don't stop believin'. Hold on to that feelin'. Because what else is there? Knowledge? Sure thing, Mao. Whatever you say.