Mine eyes have beheld the Christ of the Right. His crown is resplendent with diamonds mined from South Africa, the red highlights encrusted blood of the poor split during their extraction. His eyes flash televangelist shows. His mouth spews forth booming words that enflame, frighten and promise blessings for a contribution. His rainment a business suit of finest dark wool, the exquisite tailoring offset by the logos of all Fortune 500 emblazoned upon it. Around about him plays the music of a trillion commercials. In his right hand, an NRA pistol. As colossal Christ strides forward, gay teens kill themselves in advance for fear of his approach. Other boys shoot their classmates and teachers in tribute. Mall girls writhe BritneyAguilera style. Businessmen bend over for a kiss. Women cackle gleefully of family and values. Police barracade away those who cannot afford access to the spectacle. Behind him crops wither, birds fall, and distant structures are backlit by fire. Christ takes his throne astride Wall St. and Madison Avenue. He crushes the Statue of Liberty with a swipe of his great hand, condemning it as an idol. Corporate jets and news helicopters circle for a look, while he pronounces New York to be the New Jerusalem....
via woods lot
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