The Bishop and the Butterfly: Murder, Politics, and the End of the Jazz Age
    quinn esq's picture

    RIP. Obama's Possum. (You know what Carlin would say.)

    By quinn esq on Mon, 06/23/2008 - 10:33pm |
    Thank You God (And George Carlin.) The Obama campaign today killed the seal. You know, that 'Vero Possumus' thing that infested his podium.

    I know it was young & cute & all, but still. It had to go. 

    It bit. 

    No word yet whether they used a 'hakapik' (go on... look it up... you know you want to), rifle, lethal injection or just lured the bastard within range of Vlad's house.

    This is the first thing the campaign has done which seriously worried me. (And back off FISA-fiends, I've got a possum here, and I'm licensed to use it.) I mean.... was Axelrod on vacation? Is this Solis Doyle's contribution? Or did they hire Cindy McCain while I wasn't looking? 

    Look. The press accuses Axelrod of putting an airtight, anti-ballistic bubble-shield around Obama, but I've worn harem pants tight enough to keep a freakin' possum out.

    Now, nobody should get wound up about this as a personal attack on Obama or anything (though he maaaay have cleared it) but lemme just ask you this:

    Would you, personally, even in the privacy of your own home, ever wear anything, any single item of clothing, with the word POSSUM on it? 

    Would you allow a friend to drink & don a possum crest? 

    No. And neither would I. Or any right-thinking American. (Those last two being mutually exclusive groups, btw.)

    As far as the dead seal goes, well, the Inuit eat 'em. The blubber. And they use all the other bits - like the hide. You know, for parkas and gloves and shoes and stuff.
     
    So, being an ecologically-minded kinda guy (waste not want not, reduce/recuse/recycle), my NEW CAMPAIGN is to pressure Senator Obama into using that possumus seal into something useful. There's lotsa unemployed Inuit (Ed: he's talkin' about Eskimos, ok?), and it wouldn't take more'n about 72 hours of chewing that seal to produce a fine, silky- smooth, near-leather-quality new pair of trainers. For the campaign trail. 

    And the message he'd be sending couldn't be clearer:

    Screw the PUMA's, I wear POSSUMS! 

    P.S. I donno. Maybe the damned thing spontaneously generated in there. Possum spore.

    P.P.S. Don't worry about it. Campaigns do this. I shot a moose once in upstate New York.... Oh, never mind.

    There is no 3rd P.P.P.S. The possum et it.