Radiofree West Hartford -- The Brass Ring of Power by Paul Peters

American Apologetics

The Brass Ring of Power

By Paul Peters

January 04, 2003

Prologue:

It began in the earliest history of the land. The great fathers forged thirteen rings of power and distributed them across the vast nation to thirteen men of noble bearing, both just and good. What they did not know was that a master ring would be forged in secret, and wielded by a great dark power known as Delano. After a time the power of the ring consumed even its creator, and the Great Brass Ring of Power, called Presidency (For Delano had named his Great Brass Ring "Presidency" to deceive the people.) forged in the fires of Socialism, fell between the pages of history. The histories became legend; legend became myth, and eventually myth faded beyond memory. And some things that should not be forgotten, were forgotten.

The ages came and went. Men called "President" came both before and after the great Dark Lord of Socialism, Delano. Some men called "President" were just and good and remembered the lessons of the founding fathers. Some men called President merely lusted after power and interns. And the ones who lusted after power, also lusted after Delano's Brass Ring which gave the power to get elected term after term, despite the gentle and good example of the first of the founding fathers, Washington.

Chapter 1

The hideous little bald creature scurried through the bayou. Every so often it would turn its head and bark a wretched cough, a cough that gave the creature its name. "Car-ville, Car-ville." Some say Carville was born twisted, but cunning. Others say he was corrupted by SUVs and Big Tobacco, but this is no revisionist fairy tale, this is the true history of the war of the Brass Ring.

If you were so unfortunate to come across Carville you would hear him speaking, arguing with himself.

"Nasty Bush-in-ses. Nasty creatures, they stole our precious." For Carville remembered that Georg-o Bushins had "stolen" the Brass Ring of Power years before. Carville hated the older Georg-o Bushins, for the older Bushins followed the great and just President who remembered the founding fathers. And a new Georg-o Bushins was seeking the Ring to turn its power back to the people.

But Carville's aspect would suddenly change at times. "Nice Bushinses, not nasty at all. Nice Bushinses. They protects us, keeps us safe. Not like the fat wizard - no, not like the fat wizard Clintoman at all." Carville would wheeze.

Carville was tortured by periodic glimpses of the Brass Ring of Power. He was there after all, in the White House of Clintoman the fat, when Clintoman himself tried to unravel the mystery of the Brass Ring of Power. But alas the Ring slipped from Clintoman's hand when he reached for a slice of cheesecake and some spicy fries.

Chapter 2

Gore-ma Wormtongue was the lap dog of Clintoman. Gore-ma's loyalty would be sorely tested however if Gore-ma knew what Clintoman really thought of him. Gore-ma Wormtongue knew that he was not as powerful as Clintoman, so Gore-ma told stories to amuse Clintoman, hoping he would gain favor.

"Oh great Clintoman, did you know I invented the internet" Gore-ma asked.

Clintoman was not distracted by this lie, turned to Gore-ma and said "All you have to do is ride my coat-tails to obtain the Great Brass Ring. Don't blow it."

The chided Gore-ma said, "If all else fails, we still have the influence of Darth Bader Ginsberg on the Supreme Council. Can't I use her to grasp the Brass Ring of Power?"

"Darth Bader?" Clintoman asked "Aren't you mixing up two completely different stories?"

"No-one complains when you mix up stories. Besides, I wrote both of those stories myself." Gore-ma lied. "I wrote both of those stories and invented fried chicken too."

Clintoman's eyebrow's raised at this latest revelation "Fried chicken? I like fried chicken. Send out one of my Uruk-interns to find me some fried chicken. And make sure she doesn't forget the cole slaw. I like cole slaw. I like interns. Heck, I like cole slaw and interns."

Chapter 3

Unknown to either Gore-ma or Carville, Clintoman had forged a great alliance between the Two Towers. The tower to the west, called NOW-radur from which the witches called the NARAL-gul rode forth screeching destruction of all life. The tower to the north, called Union-gard, sent forth minions bearing Clintoman's symbol of the Out-Stretched-Hand, wreaking havoc on businesses and economies. The minions of Union-gard were once noble and proud, defending the rights of the innocent, but had been corrupted by the Brass Ring of Power forged in the fire of Socialism.

At the utmost top of NOW-radur, stood a figure terrible to behold. Rodham-man, draped in a black pant suit, with a broad-collared pink blouse surveyed the countryside with one great blood-shot eye. Looking out with the great blood-shot eye, Rodham-man took up the carpet bag at her side and lead a great army of trial lawyers out of NOW-radur to the east. She would cross the Potomac, join with Clintoman, and with the aid of her trial lawyers, make health care so expensive, the people would have to rely upon a single payer system for basic medical needs.

Union-gard, for its part in the War for the Brass Ring of Power, turned its attention to attention to Florida, for Georg-o Bushins was quietly progressing in his quest to destroy the Brass Ring of Power, thereby releasing the people from the scourge of Socialism. The danger to Georg-o Bushins was great, for he did not know that Union-gard had the power to raise the dead on the festival known as Election Day.

Chapter 4

Many of the people of the land came to hate the corruption wrought by the Brass Ring of Power and refused to join in the festival called Election Day. Some desired to flee but knew not where to turn. They knew they could not turn to the White House of Clintoman the Fat, for that was the source of their trouble and woe. And the people knew Clintoman did not feel their pain. Where would they go? What would they do?

At dawn the people watched as the sun rose over the mountains and the people saw the silhouette of a mounted woman, little more than a girl, rising over Capitol Hill. She was coming toward them. The people asked her name, and whether she knew of any safe place to hide on Election Day. She turned to the people, a fashionable chapeau adorning her head, and with heaving bosom told the people her story. "I was at the White House of Clintoman not long ago seeking wisdom and a man. Clintoman befriended me for I brought him fried chicken and cole slaw. He likes cole slaw. Clintoman took pity on me and offered me refuge at Knee's Deep, but I was deceived. I found no safety there." The girl-woman sobbed for she had thought the witches of NOW-radur would come to her aid, but alas, they were loyal to Clintoman. And the people despaired.

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