Republican "hopeful" Rick Santorum won the support of 150 "evangelical leaders" at a meeting in Texas this weekend. Though the name of the ranch in Houston might not have been an epithet carved in stone, after three ballots, the choice of Santo was. (Neighbors reported a dark smoke encircling the area upon the rendering of the final vote, but that turned out to be a small witch fire, not a papal-choosing rip-off.)
Santo, the self-described "jesus candidate", was not present at the festivities as he was working the crowds at public appearances in the current "primary target" of South Carolina, self-described as "secession central". Some 60% of the state's Republican voters call themselves "evangelicals" which loosely translates as: "I pinky swore with the savior that I would tell everyone in the world that unless they agree with me they are screwed--by a person of my choosing, of course." Lovely, eh?
Or, as it is written in Rick 3:16 -- For Santo so despised the gays, that he gave his only begotten name, that whosoever should google it, should not get him but have everlasting strife. And eeeeww!
And if I was in charge of Santo's campaign ads (or had a big, silly PAC), I would go the DirecTV route of getting his message across. Fade in: There's Rick firing up his Google machine. The narrator intones the words: "When you want information fast, you use Google." Now Rick sees his result. "When you use Google, sometimes you don't like what you see." Rick makes a pissy face. "When you don't like what you see, you get angry." Rick rips the sleeves off his sweater. "When you get angry, you rend your clothing." Rick holds up the drooping, ruined sleeves. "And when you rend your clothing, you end up wearing a sweater vest. Don't end up wearing a sweater vest..." You get the idea.
Or if that didn't win the sympathy (for the devil) vote, I'd strike fear in the hearts of the electorate with the Allstate model. Fade in: A city hall somewhere in Obama's America. Gay people are getting married, commandments are being removed, and teenagers are gaining access to contraception. You drive by the scene so enraged at the freedoms on display that you slam your Hummer into a church causing the steeple to tumble through the roof and into your lap. The "Mayhem Man" asks: "Will your moderate candidate be able to stop this? Santorum can. Switch to Santorum and protect yourself against moderates and Obama."
But our Ricky prefers the one-on-one approach, and is known to shake hands in the following fashion: One man then one woman, one man then... And he likes to kiss babies, especially if they're still in the womb. (He's a tummy man.) He likes to go from small town to small town, much like a dangerously-run carnival, selling the snake oil to the desperate. (And the sweater vests to the fashion-challenged.)
And now that he has 150 new friends to do his bidding (or is that the other way round), he may be able to shrug off the joint scourge of Newt Gingrich and the false idol Rick, Gov. Perry. Because together they are quite the threat to Santo's base: Perry hates the gays and Newt is pro-pro-pro marriage. He's just not so sure about that one-man to one-woman ratio.
The "mass" has spoken. The "high" road is paved. (And if the evangelicals are hot for the Catholic dude, you know they must REALLY want someone to take out the other two guys--Huntsman and Romney--both conspicuously Mormon.)
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