Texas radio jackass, the man with the megaphone, declares that he is Jon Frum. "I was a part of the first wave. Of infiltrators. Sent in. To gather information. And access the situation."
and to sell supplements. Like these…
"Behold. I am your salvation. Use these supplements. And other gifts from the stars. From the StarGate.
Only $29.95 a month via a non-refundable subscription fee. User must agree to purchase out the remaining tenure of their contract if they decide to renege on said non-refundable subscription fee.
"Behold the healing light. That is our glorious StarGate. So beautiful. So above average. Some say the biggest ever."
"At least that’s what they tell me. People who know. Let them tell us what to do. To gather closer to each other. To breath in each other's breath. To taste the glistening sweat. To help us all get to the StarGate."
Further down the road, an evangelical leader was holding a press conference. It was a closed door, invite only event. But we'll be like CIA drone flies on the wall and listen in.
Ladies and gentlemen, well gentlemen mostly, i have an announcement. Of great import. Here it is.
I am Jon Frum.
(silence)
Now i know what you’re thinking, how the heck can this guy here in front of us be Jon Frum. And sure, i understand where you’re coming from. Might as well have thought it myself.
But you see, i believe. I’m a believer. Couldn’t leave her if i tried.
I believe in everything you have heard Jon Frum speak of. Because of course i am Jon Frum. So how could i not.
And what i’ve been telling you all along is that you need to listen to your local religious leaders. Pay close attention to what they have to say.
And make sure to tithe 10% of your income to your local church. Because you can rest assured they will use that money wisely. For the best of purposes. For the glorification of god.
Because isn't that what Jon Frum, i mean me, what i’ve been saying all along.
We all need to get out and do our best tries for the good lord. Help him out. Keep him from being led astray. No one wants the lord to be led astray. It might give the believers doubts.
That’s why it’s so important that you give money. Because that makes all of the difference.
And for every 10,000 dollars that you give to god, why he will reap a 10X reward upon you for that glory in his name. Hallelujah.
Praise be to Jon Frum, praise be to the StarGate, may we all pass through it successfully, to a new promised land, in god’s kingdom, in the stars.
Now let us sing…
(Church music begins. Everyone rises to pretend to partake themselves. Phones are pulled from pockets and checked for urgent texts).
And in fact there is an urgent text there. Flashing on and off in red blink blink blink, drawing you in to something important.
We now change our channel to C-Span, where the president of these great and wondrous lands is revving up for a big ‘rile em up’ speech. An official presidential podium event.
The press were all there. Packed way to tight for these times together. Everyone scanned the room for potential sneezers. And everyone watched out for projectile vomit at all times. You did not want to get that stuff on you at a press event. You just couldn't get it off.
Ok, here he is, the man of the hour, you know him, you love him, your glorious president. President Ronald Rump.
Something that looked like a gorilla in a business suit wearing a wig and fully done up in frontal assault force seriously overdone clown make-up shambled up to the podium. It began to speak.
"My fellow americans. Tonight i have a message to all of you of great import.
Perhaps the most important message of your lives.
Way better than all others. Especially Obama, his moments were weak and sucked. Rump’s moments are strong and golden, like Apollo on Olympus.
And like Apollo i come to you with wonderous news.
I am Jon Frum. "
(silence)
But i mean think about it, it just makes sense, right.
Everyone knows it. At least that’s what people tell me. Important people. People who know.
And i Jon Frum have a message to all americans, a message of hope from the stars, a message of very special cargo, to come in the form of tax cuts, glorious tax cuts, from the stars. The best tax cuts ever.
Thanks, thank you, no need to applaud.
sputter - we break in to this program to present a news story of much importance. Mystery man Jon Frum has been spotted in a Ford Bronco headed down the 405. We switch now to our live helicopter feed - sputter…
A sad assortment of odd drunks paid very little attention to the drama unfolding on the dusty tv screen hanging above the bar. The sound was off anyway. Bachman Turner Overdrive blasted from the juke box. We were taking care of business, and working overtime.
So the bar people paid no real attention to that sad tv monitor telling it’s tales of sad life in a sad world. Their eyes were focused on the drinks in front of them. Or the lack of drink, as this particular set of was focused on.
"Sorry buddy, no more for you. You are 86’d. Cut off. Done for the night. Do you get my drift buddy?"
This cat drinking at the bar was a sight for sore eye. Dressed all in black. Weathered and dusty. Like he had traveled a long distance. Maybe even walked barefoot the whole way, now that the barkeep observed the state of this guys feet. And bruised knuckles. Like a boxer. This guy had been places. Done things. Bad things.
The ominous bum sitting at the bar started moving his mouth. It was rusty from under use. While over lubricated at the same time due to too much drink. Those lips started moving.
mumble…
He speaks, thought the bartender.
"What’s that buddy. Speak up. Speak up like an american. Loud and oblivious to whatever might be going on in the room. In the world. Make your voice heard. Make a glorious noise for all to hear "
The bum looked the barkeep right in the face, his eyes glowing with a certain mental and emotional clarity. He spoke.
" I am Jon Frum."
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