Written by rfreed
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Sunday, 12 September 2010

image for Ghost Of Lincoln Boots Glenn Beck Out Of His Memorial "Verily, the knave had it coming!"

Glenn Beck returned quietly late at night after his speech at the Lincoln Memorial to gloat over his success. "I really had 'em in the palm of my hand!" he snickered to himself. The empty hall echoed smally his laughter. Empty, that is, save for another set of footsteps approaching.

Beck frightened, turned to see a tall figure approaching him. The individual had a ghostly appearance. He had to be over 6 feet high, was dressed in a dark, old fashioned suit topped off by a stove pipe hat. The strange individual strode up to within a few feet of the cowing, blond newscaster.

"Who.... who are you?" stumbled Beck frightfully.

"You should know me quite well. You spoke today as though you were a close friend of mine."

"NO...NO! It can't be! You're.. not... LINCOLN!!!" gasped the pungent pundit.

"Indeed I am. Your ranting today awoke me from my peaceful slumber. Now I feel it is my duty to set matters straight."

"But,...but.... we are both on the same side! Everything I said was in your name!"

The tall man answered, "And that is why I am here from my heavenly rest. In my name you have manipulated an American people that I sought long and hard to free from the swamp of ignorance and manipulation. You, sir, if I might use that title loosely, seem to make a carnival of playing with the minds and emotions of your fellow citizens. You have reduced the solemn repose of my Monument to that of a barkers circus. You offer not meat to the people for healthy digestion but rather fodder fit for the most harnessed of beasts, that harness being one of propaganda. I worked hard all my life to rid my mind and that of others of the ignorance and prejudice that so easily takes root there while you sir, delight in raising it in the vast fields of your influence."

"No. no, great sir!" uttered a trembling Beck, falling to one knee in terror. "I try to warn the masses of the dangers of our present President and of the ways in which other agencies try to destroy our country."

A long lanky finger stuck itself before Beck's nose. "No sir, instead I think you delight in the gaining of power through mere showmanship and the hypnotism of words. Your mind play and your word play and the effect it has upon those who view your visage upon that infernal electrical magic box that so many worship now a days has become a drug to you, much like those you ingested in the days of your youth. And you perform at great profit. As Jesus once threw the money lenders out of a place of religious worship, I think I shall do the same with you at this place of national worship."

With that two long, lanky arms hard long accustomed to hard physical labor lifted the cringing man by his collar and belt and aided him along to the stairs exiting the Monument and let him sail to the pavement thereout.

"A good night to you sir. It would be gracious of you to leave at least some things in this land unbleached by your manipulative speculations. I and many others who made a true sacrifice for this nation need our rest. And so do the ears of the true heroes yet to come."

Beck, awed and humbled, stumbled back towards his hotel room. As he left he could hear the deep voice mumbling. "First that damned Blagojevich and now this man. Will I ever get any peace?"

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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