OCTOBER GAVE WAY TO NOVEMBER and the presidential polls were right! So was Mr. John Radima, the West Kenyan witchdoctor who on November 1 scattered the prescribed number of bones, shells, and stones at his shoeless feet and pronounced Senator Barack H. Obama the likely winner of the 2008 presidential race in faraway America. Senator Obama’s election three days later was almost anticlimactic, at least in West Kenya and certainly in the newsrooms of America’s mainstream moron media. In Kogelo, Kenya, home of Senator Obama’s father, the victory set off a vast slaughter of bulls, chickens, and goats. Said Mr. Abongo Malik Obama, the president-elect’s oldest half-brother, “We are Africans, so our plan is to slaughter a bull….” In Hollywood and Manhattan, the celebrations were more restrained, though MSNBC’s Mr. Chris Matthews presumably spent the immediate post-election hours under the thumbs, fingers, and feet of his chiropractor in hopes of ameliorating Mr. Matthews’s famously tingling leg. On The Charlie Rose Show, the mesmerized likes of Messrs. Tom Brokaw and Evan Thomas murmured, “There is much about this man that we don’t know.” So perhaps the witchdoctor Radima will be transported to Manhattan to jiggle his bones, shells, and stones before the assembled and inform them of what the fabled junior senator from Illinois is like. In the president-elect’s first press conference he made vague stabs at humor, calling himself a “mutt” and joking that the frail 87-year-old Mrs. Nancy Reagan held “séances” in the White House. Actually it was First Lady Mrs. Hillary Rodham Clinton who “channeled” Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt in the White House. Mrs. Reagan merely conferred with an astrologer. No bones, shells, or stones were used.
THIS IS GOING TO BE A TRULY WEIRD presidency, made all the weirder by the presence of the gaffe-prone Senator Joe Biden but a heartbeat away from the Prophet Obama. During the election, Republicans objected when Senator Biden’s freshly released medical records contained no brain scans. What was there to scan? Had the critics not heard the airhead’s flumdiddle? Though I am no West Kenyan witchdoctor, let me make a bone-free vaticination. The election of this novice to the presidency will prove to be as reckless as the election in 1992 of a recognized draft-dodging, ithyphallic, perpetual adolescent. The only remaining question is, will he be as amusing?
ON THE CUTTING EDGE OF JURISPRUDENCE, former District of Columbia administrative law judge Mr. Roy L. Pearson continued to pursue a lower court’s award of $54 million to him for his lost pants. The pants were lost by his dry cleaner, Mr. Jin Nam Chung, proprietor of the now-defunct Custom Cleaners. Yet Mr. Pearson’s anticipated $54 million payday was scotched by a D.C. Superior Court judge who apparently found merit in the testimony of Mr. Chung’s lawyer, who asseverated under oath that “My clients have his [the Hon. Pearson’s] pants, and they’re ready to be picked up.” Instead, the intrepid ex-judge Pearson has taken his case to the District of Columbia’s Court of Appeals, where he appeared in still another pair of pants to demand his $54 million. Doubtless there will be updates as this case makes its way ever upward in the judicial system. American health care providers may have found a new way to treat obesity in light of an October 22 report published in Proceedings B, an otherwise rather dispiriting publication of the Royal Society in England. According to the surprisingly upbeat report, the bartailed godwit, a migratory bird heretofore of interest mainly to birdwatchers, loses as much as half its body weight during its autumnal flight from Alaska to New Zealand. The flight can take up to eight days, but when the birds arrive in New Zealand they are fit and ready to molt. And there is more news on the bird-watching front. An intense 20-year-old birder, Mr. Steve Davey from the felicitously named Egg Harbor, New Jersey, during an August birding expedition apparently came too close to several baby ducks crossing a street and pancaked them all in his SUV. Precisely how many ducklings went down was impossible to ascertain, but in October the young enthusiast was fined $1,000, a levy that can be reduced pending his performance of community service at the local animal shelter. Presumably, Mr. Davey and his SUV will be kept away from the shelter’s aviary.
THE AUTHORITATIVE AUDIT BUREAU of Circulations announced more glum news for the country’s major metropolitan dailies. During the six-month period ending in September circulation figures again dropped. Yet not all newspapers are in decline. From faraway Chennai, India, comes word that the circulation of the Musalman remains robust, thus suggesting a new business plan for such failing broadsheets as the New York Times. The 81-year-old Musalman is among the oldest Urdu newspapers in the world and it is handwritten! According to publisher Mr. Syed Arifullah, the Musalman’s 23,000 copies are greedily consumed by readers because “It is easier to read, and the lettering is more graceful.” Unsurprisingly, Mr. Arifullah is an Obama man. There is no word yet if Miss Michelle Allen of Middletown, Ohio, will again don her cow costume, complete with udders, and disport al fresco in the neighborhood to the delight of children and the annoyance of humorless property owners, some of whom objected to Miss Allen’s lifelike urination on their front porches. Miss Allen, an abuser of alcohol, was jugged for a month in September and upon her October release she was allowed to take her bovine couture with her. As long suspected by AmSpec editors, the fitness-obsessed Madonna does not leave much to be desired—if you follow my drift. According to her estranged husband, Mr. Guy Ritchie, making love to her “was like cuddling a piece of gristle.” And while on the subject of ourselves, the AmSpec editors have discovered a terrorist group that has our approval, the Typo Eradication Advancement League (TEAL). TEAL’s idealistic members spent last spring and much of this past summer, until being apprehended by the authorities, eliminating grammatical errors from public signs, particularly signs created by ignoramuses for our national parks. Using markers and correction fluid they eliminated misplaced apostrophes, spelling mistakes, and other blunders, though at Grand Canyon National Park they left uncorrected “emense.” That was the work of the semi-literate Mary Elizabeth Jane Coulter, an architect who created many landmarks in the Grand Canyon in the 1930s before being sent to remedial education. Perhaps the stalwarts of TEAL will be released into the Blogosphere.
BRITISH ATHEISTS ARE BECOMING at once more militant yet somehow tentative. The British Humanist Association has decided to advertise for atheism on London buses. Unfortunately, their slogan merely proclaims, “There’s probably no God.” Probably? What mealy-mouthed dithering is that? In Paris, there was sadness among postmodernists after it was reported that no photographers were present when a 26-year-old passenger was removed from France’s high-speed train after it arrived in Paris. The unfortunate passenger’s arm had become stuck in a vacuum toilet after he attempted to retrieve his cell phone from its nether regions. He was carried from the station on a stretcher with the toilet still fastened about his arm. Think of the meaning French philosophers might divine from that! The wretch suffered no bodily harm, but that picture of him betoileted on his back could become the most popular art in the Pompidou Museum. The Mona Lisa could be forgotten, the Louvre dynamited.
A man of faith in a godless age is hitting Americans where it hurts.
Mr. and Mrs. American Spectator Reader, let P.J. O’Rourke talk sense to your kids.
In Britain, defending your property can get you life.
It won’t take long for conservatives to scratch this presidential wannabe off their 2008 scorecard.
Was the President done in by the economy, or by the politics of the economy?