"If Wash O'Hanley didn't cover it, it probably wasn't that important anyway."

Monday, August 30, 2010

Restoring Honor: A Road Trip Into the Heart of Darkness

August 29, 2009

Whoever refuses to remember the inhumanity is prone to new risks of infection." -Richard Von Weizsaecker

Glenn Beck's Restoring Honor rally has come and gone and is now but a collection of neurons floating around in the alcohol-damaged brains of the unfortunate denizens that attended the event, most of whom overwhelmed due to it being the first time they've ever stepped foot in a city with a population larger than 25,000 people. Future generations will learn about this monumental meeting of the minds after internet archaeologists stumble upon the ruins of once moderately-popular internet blogs from both sides of the aisle. What will they think? Like archaeologists of today who scavenge the sites of ancient villages for fishing hooks and broken pottery, what will future generations make of Glenn Beck's Restoring America Rally? In all likelihood our great grandchildren and their children may never know about this monumental gathering, for unless the words that Professor Beck shouted at his glossy-eyed mobile Coors Light consuming units spark a peripetia of unparalleled proportion, our great grandchildren will be slaves: owned by Chinese-speaking black gay Mexican slave handlers that forbid reading and learning about the past.

August 26,2009 9:47 am
Thursday morning we packed up the Ford Windstar and headed East: D.C.-bound. Glenn Beck's got some rally going on and all the shakers and movers and big wigs in the Republican Party are gonna be there. According to a 65 year old retired air conditioner installer from Nebraska I talked to in the diner before we left it's gonna be like Burning Man for people that think Barack Obama was born in Kenya. The station is sending me to write something up about it, I take my best friend and personal physician, Miguel Gonzale,z with me; to keep me company and in case something happens.

I'm in the driver's seat, holding it down at a steady 65 miles per hour, seated next to me is Miguel. In the back seat are Karl Rove and Laura Ingraham watching Hannah Montana on the drop-down entertainment system. Together we make up the Upbeat Band of Socially-Responsible Conservative Men and Women That Occasionally Perform Pranks of Varying Hilarity and the Ford Windstar is our home away from home; the base from which our pranks are dreamed up and conducted.

August 26, 2009 12:15 pm
Glenn Beck stated that the inspiration for this rally was the result of divine providence. Four months ago he was on his knees praying to God to give him a sign to help America through these trying times. God told him he already had all the pieces of the puzzle: faith, hope and charity. All three of these things, according to Beck, are found within us. Not surprisingly, this is the same method I employ at the radio station when it comes time to order lunch. Every day, invariably, someone wants pizza, someone else wants Chinese food and someone else wants Mexican. One day I finally got on my knees and asked God what the answer was, and he told me the same thing: that all the pieces of the puzzle are in front of me, all I need to do is put them together. From that day forward we've had burritos stuffed with chow mein and tomato sauce.

At a gas station in Davenport I slip into the back seat, too tired to go on. Karl is in the bathroom and Miguel is buying some Flamin' Hot Cheetos in the mini mart. Laura asks me if I want to do something crazy. Unsure I shrug my shoulders. She puts a strip of something on her tongue, moves in close and kisses me deep, eventually whatever was on her tongue is now in my mouth. I swallow.

"What was that?" I ask.

"A Listerine Breath Strip, baby." She replies.

I stick my finger in my throat and try to make myself throw up, but she stops me.

"Just go with it baby. Pretty soon your breath is gonna be fresher than it's ever been before!"

I look out the window as Miguel and Karl exit the mini mart and make their way toward the car. I straighten up and try to play it cool.

They get in the car and start it up, the engine roars. Suddenly and for no reason Miguel turns around and looks at me, his face is now a giant goat's head: it's eyes missing and blood and matted-down hair covering it. I scream in terror.

"What's wrong, buddy?"

Rove turns around, he's a giant lizard.

"Yea, man, why you freakin' out?"

Laura tells them and they all have a laugh at my expense. Then Laura gives the Rove and Dr. Miguel breath strips. I'm not sure if Miguel is in any condition to operate a motor vehicle at this point but I go with it. Eventually I pass out.

August 26, 2009 2:55 pm
Early reports on the internet and Fox News indicate that this is going to be the most important event of our generation-- like Woodstock only without the sex, drugs and rock and roll and with more uncomfortable subtle racism. Being there will give you the right to say for the rest of your life that you stood there during that momentous moment when Mr. Beck took the stage and changed everything. Never before have more white people gotten together to complain about one black guy. Missing this would be like missing the moon landing because you were having explosive Mexican food diarrhea.

I wake up somewhere on the 80 near Joliet, Illinois, the effects of the breath strip are still with me. Looking around I notice Rove isn't in the car anymore. I notice Laura is sitting up in her seat and looking out the back window of the minivan, I unbuckle my seat belt and pivot around to see what has her attention. Outside the car I see the craziest thing I've ever laid eyes on. I'm not sure if what I'm seeing is real or not, yet I cannot look away. Karl is riding a skateboard while holding onto a rope that's tied to the trailer hitch on the back of the van.

"WE CALL IT ROVE RAGE, BABY!" Laura screams at me, perhaps confirming the worst thoughts that were occupying my mind at the moment.

Karl gives a thumbs up with his left hand and Laura yells at Miguel to go faster. Instantly the car lurches forward. I look at the speedometer: we're going 85.

Artist's rendition of Rove Rage

Aigist 26, 2009 3:15 pm
I'm in a line at a gas station convenience store buying a Code: Red Mountain Dew and a box of Rolaids. The woman in front of me is also going to the rally and we strike up a conversation. She's middle-aged and wearing a t-shirt with a picture of a Hitler-mustached Barack Obama being sodomized by Lenin. She's come here all the way from South Dakota to hear Glenn speak and had to take three days off of work to do so. The lost wages, she says, are worth it.

August 26, 2009 3:43 pm
Rumor has it all the water was drained from the reflecting pool and filled with Glenn Beck's tears. Cripples and other people with physical handicaps from all over the tri-state area have come to take advantage of their healing powers.

We pull up at a Wendy's in Gary, Indiana. Outside a group of inner city youth have accumulated around the front door.

"You ready to freak out the establishment?" Rove asks me rhetorically as he, Ingraham and Miguel pull plastic party masks over their faces; all of them white rabbits.

Before I can say anything all three jump out of the Windstar and make their way toward the kids.

"You kids go to school today?" Rove asks the kids. "Are you respectful of your teachers? Do you go to church? You do your homework?"

They nod yes to every question.

"Well let this be a lesson to you."

He pulls a glock out of the waist of his pants and points it at the kids.

"Gimme your wallets."

They do as he says. Once he has all their wallets everyone starts backing toward the Windstar. "Let that be a lesson to you. NEVER TRUST WHITEY, BITCHES!"

He laughs hysterically as we all pile back into the Windstar. Just then a huge black guy exits the Wendy's eating a frosty. The kids run over to him and point at us.

"Oh shit! Step on it, Miguel!" Laura screams.

He slams the car into reverse, backs out of the parking space, and then screeches into drive. The black guy pulls out a hand gun and starts firing at the van. After three shots the back window shatters. Luckily no one is hurt and we speed off back for the interstate.

August 27, 2009 12:14 pm
Laura insists we pick up a hitch-hiker we come across on the 70 somewhere in rural Pennsylvania-- somewhere near West Virginia. She's a cute girl; no older than 19, blond hair. She says she's headed to see her boyfriend in Florida: a runaway. We get to know each other for a while. At some point Rove pulled off the interstate and is driving down a two-lane road through some dense wooded area. He stops the car and gets out. Suddenly and without warning Laura wraps a handkerchief around the girl's head. The girl tries to scream but nothing but a muffled noise comes out. Rove goes to the back of the Windstar and pulls a length of rope from his duffle bag. He uses the rope to tie the girl's arms behind her back. He picks her up and drops her on a ditch on the side of the road, takes her pants off and proceeds to rape her for a prolonged period of time while Laura cackles devilishly and spits and rubs dirt on the girl's face.

"STIMULATE MY ECONOMY YOU LITTLE BITCH!" Karl screams at the girl as he violently rapes her.

I bury my head under my pillow and cry. I think about the Restoring Honor Rally: our reason for going this far to try and drown out the girls muffled cries and Rove's disgusting sex noises. I can hear the no doubt inspiring words that Mr. Beck will only in a short time utter; their notes transcending time as they go down in history as some of the most important ever uttered.

Finally Rove and Laura get back in the car and we start moving again. The girl isn't with us.

Missing since last week

August 27, 2009 9:54 pm
I've become increasingly terrified by the unpredictable behavior Rove and Laura have been exhibiting thus far on the trip. I fear for my life and the lives of those we may run into down the road. I think of my wife and cry myself to sleep.

August 28, 2009 10:00 am

I wake up expecting to be in our Nation's capital, only to find myself outside a project in East Baltimore.

"Calm the piffle down, O'Hanley" Rove instructs me. "I just need to pay someone a visit."

We're going to miss the rally. Apparently Rove and Laura don't care.

Rove and Laura get out of the Windstar and go into the project, leaving Miguel and I. Are the keys in the ignition? No. Dammit. We have no way out of here. What are we going to do?

A group of street thugs standing in front of a liquor store are eyeing us from across the street. I don't like this one bit. Suddenly a gun shot rings out and fifteen seconds later Rove and Laura run out of the project. Rove is carrying a sawed-off shotgun and Laura has a zip-lock bag full of something white, but I can't tell what it is. Rove jumps in the front, starts the car and peels out.

"I told Ultimate Charles not to piffle with me!"

"You did what had to be did." Laura replies.

Rove turns to Miguel.

"Do I look like a Hungry Hungry Hippos?"


"Then why that nigga tryin' to play me?"

August 28, 2009 11:45 am
I'm thinking back to a simpler time. As a boy I used to go to my aunt's house in rural Minnesota. Out in the yard she had a tire swing hanging from a centuries old Eastern White Pine. Sometimes if you went outside at the right time of the year you could watch the sun set through the middle of the tire and it'd be like the tire was a big eye looking back at you.

"We need to set some ground rules." Says Rove, breaking the silence I've been enjoying. "You know what they say?" He turns and looks at Miguel and I in the back seat. I wish he'd keep his eyes on the road. "Snitches get stitches."

Laura turns around and accompanies this statement with a finger slicing across her throat while making a cutting noise.

August 28, 2009 2:24 pm
Rove pulls up in front of a Burger King off the side of the interstate. I'm not an expert when it comes to the whereabouts of places in Washington DC, but I know this isn't Washington DC.

"Get out."

Miguel and I do so without thinking, forgetting to grab out things in the process. Once outside of the Windstar. Maniacal laughing can be heard as the two Right Wing lunatics drive out of sight.

The morbidly obese, totally un do-able black woman behind the counter at Burger King informs us that we're in Glasgow, Delaware. There's no way we're going to make it to DC at this point. The opportunity to see Mr. Beck speak is now gone. We had an opportunity to be a part of that historic moment in our nation's history when everything changed forever and we blew it. On the walk to our hotel Miguel and I argued about just how amazing Beck's speech was. Would it be like the Gettysburg Address and Mel Gibson's speech at the end of Braveheart being read by Mike Ditka or would it be Jesus' sermon on the mound sung by a choir of angels as Nancy Pelosi gets decapitated by a bear in a clown outfit while the Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders get rowdy and wash a car? The only way to find out would be to watch it on youtube.

August 28, 2009 4:03 pm
In the hotel lobby we kicked a 14 year old girl checking her myspace page off the computer and accessed youtube.com. The top video was Mr. Beck's speech. We prepared ourselves and clicked the link. Then found out there were no speakers on the computer.

August 28, 2009 4:05 pm
In the business center there is a man using his laptop to e-mail something or streamline some bullcrap or something. Anyway, we jacked his laptop and brought it over to youtube.com. We got the video up and got ready to play it. Before clicking the play button I stopped Miguel.

"This may be the greatest moment of our lives." I said.

Miguel nodded, we both understood the gravity of the situation and hit the play button, prepared to have our lives changed forever. There will never be any going back.

August 28, 2009 4:21 pm
"What the shit just happened? Was that cool or did that suck cause I can't tell? I don't know. Let's sign this business guy up for a bunch of gay porn newsletters and go back to Iowa."

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