This is my protest sign. There are many like it, but this one is mine.

My protest sign is my best friend–along with my Che Guevara t-shirt and my kick-ass pirate skull bong. It is my life. I must master the spelling of the words on it, even if it causes a lot of pain behind my eyes.

My protest sign, without me, is useless. Unless I lend it to Darren. Or Melissa. Those two can really sling a mean sign.

I must hold my sign high, and scream louder than Bush’s fascist, imperialistic military pawns who are trying to stifle my free speech, take over the world’s oil supplies, and implant all of us with microchips that play country music 24/7.

As I hold my sign high, I will allow my personal fragrance to waft from my armpits and mingle with that of my brethren, creating a communal aroma that brings tears of joy to my eyes.

I must huck pies at the fascists before they call in more of their jack-booted pals to take me down. Because everyone knows there is no real response to a hurled cream pie.

My protest sign and myself know that what counts in this war is not the proper spelling of the words on the sign, the clarity of the message, or even the damage it might do to America by prolonging the war and encouraging our “enemies”, but rather the fact that what we are doing might in some way reflect poorly on the illegally elected President Chimpy McBushitler.

My protest sign is human, even as I, because it is my life–along with my new iPod Nano. Thus I will learn its font size, its ink color, and possibly the meanings of the words it contains–nah, just kidding. I will not leave it on the floor of my mom and Steve’s basement when I fall asleep at night after pleasuring myself to Fahrenheit 9/11. I will ever guard it against Bush’s brownshirts as I will ever guard my eyes from their mace, my wrists from their clear, plastic handcuffs, and my central nervous system from their Tazers. We will become a part of each other–in that way. WE WILL…

Before Medea, I swear this creed. My protest sign and myself are the defenders of my country, as embarrassing of a place as it may be. WE ARE THE TRUE PATRIOTS.

So be it, until America becomes a docile, humbled, unspectacular member of the world community. Like Equatorial Guinea or Vanuatu.

The news that Al Qaeda in Iraq has been soundly beaten and is on the verge of annihilation, was met with worries and a quick call to action on Capitol Hill today. In an attempt to salvage some semblance of victory for the embattled fighters, Congressional Democrats voted early Thursday to approve funding that would provide desperately needed supplies for the group.

“There is no question but that they are in a bad way,” said Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi. “What began as a glorious campaign against the American occupiers, has taken a turn for the worse. These culturally equal individuals have been shot at, had missiles fired at them, and been made to miss at least one of their five daily prayers on several occasions. What’s more, our polling data shows that a full 100% of them are living below the poverty line! If it weren’t for that fact that many of them have dual citizenship between their home countries and Holland, they wouldn’t even be receiving welfare payments or free health care. But I have sponsored legislation that will go a long way towards turning the tide back in favor of these brave freedom fighters.”

Pelosi’s bill calls for two battalions of Code Pink protesters to be sent to Iraq immediately. They will be deployed at key positions to block advancing U.S. Marines.

“We were toying with the idea of using the Code Pinkers against the Iraqi forces as well, but it turns out that they are even less enlightened than our own barbaric military personnel,” Pelosi said. “During one of the ladies’ patented ‘Breasts Not Bombs‘ rallies in Fallujah recently, the Iraqi commander ordered them at gunpoint to put their shirts back on while his men screamed and covered their eyes. ”

These elite protest battalions will bring with them a host of sorely needed supplies including:

• clean placards, new magic markers, and sturdy wood slats for making state-of-the art anti-American-miliary signs
• teddy bears, dolls, and blood-splattered rubble for use in AP photographs depicting the barbarity of U.S. troops
• the direct number for the head of the ACLU
• several cases of Goat Fancy magazine

In what many are calling a concerted effort to purge his proverbial closet of all potentially harmful skeletons, presumed Democratic presidential candidate Barack Obama has severed all ties with his radical letter carrier, Chuck Patterson.

This move comes on the heels of Obama’s decision to leave the controversial Trinity United Church of Chicago after he spent much time defending former pastors Rev. Jeremiah Wright and Rev. Michael Pfleger.

“Well, well, well…what a coincidence that Senator Obama received his mail from a man who, by all accounts, used his federal postal route to deliver a virulent brand of radicalism,” said Republican spokesman Darren Scoresby. “Chuck Patterson is not only a racist, American-hating extremist, from what I have heard, he is also a sub-par mailman who can’t tell bulk mail from a she-male.”

Some of Patterson’s more controversial actions include:

• Referring to plain white business envelopes as “third-class cracker wrappers”, when delivering mail to caucasian households.
• Walking his route with his pit bull “Mail Dawg” wearing nothing but a Kanye West half-shirt and a pair of Crocs instead of his government-issued uniform.
• Circulating to fellow postal workers a revised version of the postal creed (”Neither rain nor snow…”) that read, “If it’s raining, snowing or even just a bit overcast, this courier is keeping his black ass in his climate-controlled mail jeep, thank you very much.”
• Beating an old woman’s barking toy poodle to death with the Neiman Marcus fall catalog.

Obama distanced himself from Patterson’s actions, but was quick to note “I can no more denounce my letter carrier than I can my gardener, my waitstaff, or my chauffer.” An Obama official went on to say that the senator only occasionally receives mail at home.

“This is just getting plain old silly now,” said Obama campaign spokesman Walter Simms. “Senator Obama has had his name taken off of all of the junk mailing lists, and he has a PO Box that he uses frequently; that means that weeks or months may go by where his letter carrier does not even come to the house. All of this posturing is a desperate move by the Clinton campaign to keep a primary going that by all rights was over a long time ago.”

Obama’s Democratic primary opponent Hillary Clinton was quick to seize on the controversy as yet another valid reason for her to stay in the race noting that “postal carriers have been known to snap and shoot people they feel have wronged them.”

Not content to sit back and let his past accomplishments speak for themselves, former president Jimmy Carter recently broke with a long-standing tradition of keeping nuclear secrets secret. While speaking at a festival in Wales Carter noted that “Israel has about one hundred and fifty nuclear weapons in its arsenal,” in the process giving the Iranians a valuable bargaining chip with the international community.

In honor of the man many have called…umm…Jimmy…we have compiled the top nine suggested Jimmy Carter taglines.

9. “The glass isn’t half empty or half full, it’s just chock full of malaise-iness.”

8. Quite possibly one of the top three presidents named “Carter” who served in the mid-to-late 1970s.

7. The Palestinian from Plains.

6. America’s greatest ex-president; except for all of the other ones.

5. “If only I could have talked to Hitler.”

4. “I regret that we have only one Israel to give to Iran.”

3. One of the best presidents ever; only different.

2. Sort of like a Neville Chamberlin, but without all of that annoying courage.

1. The man who put the “qx” in “patriot.”

Fresh on the heels of their bi-partisan decision to overturn the Law of Supply and Demand by seeking legal redress from OPEC over high oil prices, the Democrat-controlled House of Representatives has set the bar a bit higher. In what many are calling a strikingly bold move, the congressional body has once again united across party lines, approving legislation that will pave the way for the Justice Department to sue on behalf of individuals who are adversely affected by gravity.

“Speaking as someone who has complied with the Law of Gravity for most her life, except when I needed just a bit of tightening around the jawline, I have to say I am saddened that it has come to this,” said Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi. “Democrats have a long-standing tradition of being pro-gravity, but the number of falls that the average hardworking American has to contend with has not only not gone down under this administration, it has actually risen sharply. In fact when you adjust for inflation, there are now 156% more falls today than in 1992. It’s clear that this once innocuous power that keeps things in place has evolved into a malevolent force that apparently enjoys sucking Americans–predominantly minorities and those below the poverty line might I add–violently and unexpectedly back into the earth. President Bush won’t do anything for fear of upsetting his Big Physics buddies, so the Democrats will have to take the lead yet again.”

“I am very grateful that something is being done about this huge gravity problem,” said John Flores, a stage three vertigo sufferer from San Diego. “I mean falls hurt. A lot. Every time I pick myself up, I wonder, ‘Who will protect unbalanced Americans like me from this stalking, sinister force?’”

The formidable gravity lobby was quick to return fire, saying that the ancient force of nature was an easy target for an American public that had grown increasingly uncoordinated, and warning that the cost of frivolous lawsuits would likely force gravity to shut down, sending billions of humans floating off into space.

Although Speaker Pelosi was unavailable for comment, an aide read a prepared statement noting that she was “working feverishly on legislation that would provide relief from the Nazi-like tyranny of ‘i before e except after c.’”

Traveling in Pennsylvania today, Republican presidential candidate John McCain told a small town gathering that liberals gravitate to certain causes out of bitterness fomented by their failure to succeed despite impressive SAT scores, domination of the world of academia, and intellectually incurious opponents.

“You go into these big cities in California, and, like a lot of big cities along both coasts of this great nation, you’ve got a multitude of Starbucks baristas with Ph.D’s in philosophy who can’t understand why the world doesn’t conform to their utopian vision,” said McCain. “So it’s not surprising that at a time when their country is the world’s sole superpower, using its military to fight a just war against Islamic terrorism, and its citizenry is renewing their faith in Christianity, they get bitter and cling to hopeless causes like partial-birth abortion, multi-culturalism, and the rehabilitation of serial killers.”

McCain campaign chairman Phil Gramm tried to head-off controversy as the senator’s comments made the rounds.

“Some will say that John McCain is stereotyping liberals,” said Gramm. “Still others will suggest that he’s out of touch with big-city values. So let me be clear: neither of these accusations approach the true depth of Senator McCain’s disdain for self-loathing leftist whiners who apparently spent a tad too long suckling at the grimy teat of their bohemian, unemployed mom.”

Democratic presidential hopeful Barack Obama was quick to respond.

“This is yet another example of how low Republicans are willing to stoop in order to get elected. I was particularly offended at Senator McCain’s insistence on quoting actual statements from Democrats to support his allegation, thus making it nearly impossible for me to redirect the debate to the vagaries of hope. I expected more from a man his age.”

There has been a great deal of confusion, outrage, and discussion over Senator Barack Obama’s statements during a speech in San Francisco this past week. Rather than present some finely-crafted opinion to you, we instead offer this actual transcript of the exchange.

Greetings, San Francisco comrades. I can’t tell you how great it is to be back among my people after my recent travels.

Welcome, Dear Leader. We are anxious to hear about your expedition to the hinterland.

I’m sure you are. And I am anxious to unburden myself. I saw… things. Unspeakable things.

Yes. We have heard from the Goracle that “the part of the country that must not be named” is populated by climatically-challenged freaks, mutants having only one set of sexual organs, and the intellectually incurious. Is it so?

If it were only that simple, my friends. No, what I saw would turn your double latte frappuccino sour in a nanosecond.

Gasp! Enlighten us, Chosen One.

Brace yourselves. These…creatures engage in a host of rituals that range from the simply bizarre, to the egregiously vile. For example, a vast majority of them hunt on a regular basis.

You mean they hunt for multiply-gonaded sex partners with whom to engage in such universally-practiced acts as the Bay Area Blackout, the Chomsky Chiller or, my personal favorite, the Modesto Manhole Cover ?

I’m afraid not.

Perhaps they hunt pre-aborted fetuses from the host female’s containment area?

No, they actually hunt our four-legged Earth cohabitants, which they call “animals.” And in real life, not video games (like this one and this one). Deer primarily, but none of Gaia’s creatures are safe.

Nooooooooooo!

I’m sorry brother Furry, but yes.

Sister.

Really?

Care to see my breeding apparatus?

Not necessary, costumed-one.

Costume?

Allow me to continue. Apart from slaughtering and eating defenseless animals, they also claim that they use their weapons for protection from, among other things, burglars.

Burglars?

Undocumented nocturnal visitors.

Ahhhh.

What else, Enlightened Leader?

Bowling. This is when they roll a large black orb down what appears to be an old runway from an exotic dancing club, with the aim of knocking over ten large, white pins.

How senselessly violent. Still, I love the racially egalitarian nature of this ritual.

I concur. Better still, they clearly have no cognizance of the symbolism inherent in this game. It is refreshing to see racial justice meted out by unwitting heathens.

Here, here. We beg of you, regale us with more!

If I must. I found their drinking habits too, to be beneath contempt. They only drink beer, but I could not find a single imported wheat ale no matter how hard I looked.

Arrrgh!

Oh, yes. And the topper is when they drink this low-grade swill, not out of a glass mind you, their pinkies never leave the side of the can!

How uncouth! How un-European! Blasphemy!

All of the above. But it gets even more distressing. They hold some of the most radical views on underdocumented Americans that I have ever witnessed. They want to prevent their fellow North Americans from obtaining drivers licenses, silence their voice through the denial of voting rights, and perhaps most disturbingly, they are firmly against the “Eleven Strikes And You’re Out” policy I’ve proposed to protect the underdocumented who have been viciously entrapped by law enforcement and charged with laughable felonies.

Un-progressive! Un-progressive! Un-progressive!

Preach on, my friends. So I present to you that these, and a host of other similarly atrocious customs, contribute to the overall feeling of bitterness among these unfortunate souls. But we can effect change here. There is hope, rather audacious hope, but hope nonetheless.

What would you have us do? Arm them with protest signs and show them the calm enlightenment that comes with endlessly protesting this country’s fascist military recruitment centers?

Possibly.

Compel them to see the truth through the powers of my magic lasso?

Now you’re thinking.

Use my influence in Hollywood to create films devoid of the blubberingly naive pro-American sentiment that’s been prevalent in Tinseltown the last few decades?

Yes! Yes!

Did you bring us anything from the back country?

Of course, my children.

Oooooh! I hope it’s the new k.d. lang CD!

No, even better, if you can imagine that. I’ve brought back live specimens.

Hooray! A carnival of freaks!

Here is the first, riflus assaulticus, from the phylum clinginus excessivum.

Crowd: ooooooh.

Can we approach the cage?

Sure– OH MY GOD WAIT I FORGOT TO LOCK IT!

AHHHHHH!!!!! HELP, POLICE!!!!

Just kidding. Hey, who called for the police?

Not me.

Me neither.

I think Mayor Newsome has some splainin’ to do.

Uh, sorry. It just… slipped out. Hunters…frighten me.

We’ll let it slide. OK, onto exhibit 2, simpletum inbreedicus, a species I saw quite a bit in the aforementioned bowling alleys.

Crowd: Ahhhhh!

And finally, a heart-breaking creature, sodomus maximum.

No one sodomized me, dill-weed.

ARRRRGH! IT SPEAKS!

I should have warned you. And this specimen is clearly suffering from a repressed memory disorder, no doubt a coping mechanism after years of relentless abuse at the hands of so-called men of God. We didn’t get to him in time.

Hey, look, it’s the fat guy from All In The Family.

No, I’m the critically-acclaimed director, Robert Reiner.

Whatever, Meathead.

I must be going, my friends. Thank you for your rapt attention. I hope you now understand just how much small-town America requires our guidance and influence. It is no small task.

We are up to the task, Open-Minded one.