Reader, if you have tuned in today anticipating another Sunday morning Palinpaloooza of a round-up, let me tell you that it was a week when some of your contributors were preoccupied surreally by the subtle differences between the marmot, the groundhog, the gopher and the woodchuck, in their behind the scenes communications.
Pastor Rob Harrison has C4P mandation to act as the go-to expert on the subject, having recently attended Professor Robert Langdon’s seminar on the Symbology of the Marmot, but such was the nature of the general distraction that I needed a few days away at my cabin in the country – a tax cheating perk, of course.
With the reading of hundreds of innocuous emails to keep me occupied, few round-up links have been gathered by this correspondent... And I am reduced to offering the excuse that in the circumstances it seems crass today to even attempt to distract from the glories of last night’s Van Palin speech.
Briefly therefore, whilst you still bask in the happy memory, I offer you an alternative reflection on another week where The Desperadoes have been out of their senses building false fences.
But I’ll begin by asking whether you’ve yet recovered from the unbelievably shocking revelation that a political action committee (SarahPAC) has chosen to spend .0095 of 1% of its funds employing two really smart people formerly associated with this website, as part of the ongoing process of “quietly assembling the infrastructure of an expanding political operation.”
Truly, I imagine that there actually was a moment last weekend when Eurozone-sludgers Patrick and Regina of Palingates’ shame, having wearily executed their daily descent down the transatlantic fantasy rabbit hole, and slimed themselves once more through the magic modem into the Alaska Bloggers’ X Box Palinhating Matrix, genuinely believed that all their birthdays had come at once, that one of their dreams had been realised...
...the long awaited opportunity for those Pirates of Poison, those navigators of The Flying Pink Pig galleon, to swashbuckle in the Ocean of Urine, buccaneer in the Sea of Pee, and broadside the Barbarians by keelhauling a couple of former Aquatics.
Picture, if you will, Captain Patrick “Pegleg” Hogwash driven frantic in search of buried treasure during his perusal of the SarahPAC disbursements ... “Avast mi hearties and shiver mi timbers.”
Veins pulsing erratically in his temples, as his hands whirred in a flurry of clicks and fevered patch-eyed page views, desperate for a lifeline, yearning for someone to throw the rabid dog a bone.
And that moment, that oh so psychotically joyful moment, when a fluorescent OMG seemed to materialise dimly through the mists and the murk in the echo chambers of the Patbrain... behold the searchlight signal, witness that magic call to action.
Re-live with me the slow-mo replay of that pressing of the red button marked “Pink Pigs Are Go!” ... and the dynamic duo of Palingates singing in unison:
When there is something strange in your neighbourhood, who ya gonna call?
If there’s something weird and it don’t look good, who ya gonna call?
I aint afraid of no Palin.
I aint afraid of no Palin.
If you’re seeing the Cuda running through your head, who can ya call?
The Arctic Fox sleeping in your head. Who ya gonna call?
I aint afraid of no Palin.
Who ya gonna call?
If you’re all alone, pick up the phone and call... Blogbusters!
Flying Pink Pig Blogbusters... They’re real. They’re mean. They’re here.
They catch the bloggers who won’t stay dead.
They’re armed. They’re dangerous. They’re professionals.
They’re all that stands between you and the end of the world.
Lemme tell you something... blogbusting makes them feel good.
Regina and Patrick, ils sont les investigateurs légaux. Blogbusters extraordinaire.
Luckily for us, my barbarian buds, in characteristic Flying Pink Pig Screencap Tell All Twaddle they missed the real story, the real shocker [drums roll, cymbals crash]...that shadowy, creepy, sleazy Mr X of a C4P secret which Jay Ramras hinted at not so subtly all those months ago.
So, on the basis that if you want a job doing properly then you’d be better off doing it yourself, I will close this morning with an equally plausible screencap-conspiracy theory-palooza of dirty disclosures found lurking in the depths of the C4P archives...
... and here I invite you to be suitably scandalised... Ooo, aaah, gasp... go on, you can pretend, surely?
Roll those drums...
Conservatives4Palin can exclusively reveal that pseudonymous contributor Rich Crowther has cunningly hidden his activities beneath multiple aliases for many months (iac/ I A Crowther/ Rich) but is actually one Richard Crowther.
Crowther is aided and abetted by four hardcore commenters: a five feet ten inch tall comedienne called Nancy, a superhero named defendAmerica, a spotty-dog lover named Crueladev and his Mom (Crowther’s, not the spotty-dog’s).
This is Crowther (10/11/09):
His address is here (5/31/09):
He drives this:
He lives here.
He enjoys the following tax free benefits (7/10/09):
He is a qualified pilot (10/11/09):
He drives a big blue bus (11/20/09):
And he delivers chocolates to Bristol Palin:
I trust that you won’t mention any of this on the blog, gentle reader, but those freaks sure missed the big story... yet again:
PALIN CONTROLLED WEBSITE IN UNDERCOVER
LINK TO MYSTERIOUS MR X!
Anklebiting, Euro-freaky, Francophile, blogbusting Blogbusters, nous vous attribuons le bras d’honneur .
(Was that wrong, Rebecca... was that very wrong?)