Bushakhan!
William
Rivers Pitt
Nation
of Islam Leader and George Bush, Jr. in Unholy Alliance to Destroy Everything
Never have
two men seemed more different: Minister Louis Farrakhan, the fiery spokesman
for the controversial Nation of Islam. George Walker Bush, Jr., a white
son of a former President striving to achieve the same lofty political
goal as his father.
One would
think these two would barely have anything in common, would not speak
if they met on the street, might actually come to blows if they ever
engaged in a substantive debate on the issues that concern them.
And yet
this reporter has learned, through exhaustive research and painstaking
interviews with witnesses too terrified of reprocussions to even leave
their houses, that Bush and Farrakhan are joined in an unholy alliance
of evil to destroy everything and everyone you hold dear.
How can
this be?
Simple.
George Walker Bush, Jr. has donated a sample of his own blood to the
shady Texas-based Genetek, Inc., a mysterious lab believed to be involved
in human cloning experiments. Minister Farrakhan has also donated his
blood to this same laboratory.
What will
come of this? What might clone-happy Genetek want with the genetic material
of two of the most well-known political figures of our day? You do the
math.
"It's actually
quite simple," said one witness to the diabolical proceedings who wished
to remain anonymous. "Genetek is planning to create an army of Bush/Farrakhan
clones to take over the world. If you combine the dynamic charisma of
Farrakhan with the mindless all-consuming lust for power that is the
hallmark of George Jr., if you reproduce these clones in nauseating
numbers, if you arm them and enhance their strength with cyborg technology
WHICH WE HAVE IN VAST SUPPLY, you will have an unstoppable war machine
of unbelievable power. I'm outta here, man."
Farrakhan
speaks with great power. Bush speaks nonsense. A combination of the
two styles would give rise to someone who can speak with zeal and fury
about absolutely nothing, thus befuddling enemies into utter defeat.
Consider
the implications: you are confronted by a mechanized force of Bushakhan
Warriors, who speak with great passion about nothing that makes sense
at all. As you stare at them in utter confusion, they shoot you 532
times in the face. You are dead. The Bushakhan Warriors march on. And
on.
And on.
This reporter
is heading for the hills. Down in Texas, a lab is mixing blood and genes
and fury and stupidity. The resulting cocktail will be the end of us
all.
