I was intrigued to discover that televangelist Pat Robertson's birth name is Marion Gordon Robertson. John Wayne was also a Marion. He was Marion Robert Morrison. The two Marion's are very different, John "Marion" Wayne was rugged and masculine, winning World War II in Europe and the Far East without leaving Hollywood.
"Marion" Robertson, on the other hand, is a slimy Creature from the Black Lagoon who looks like Gollum in Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings movie trilogy. On The 700 Club, Robertson's TV nonsense showor the gateway to Mordor, as I like to think of itMarion leans into the camera, saying things like, "We wants it. We needs it. Must have the precious. They stole it from us. Sneaky little homosexuals. Wicked. Tricksy. False."
No sunshine ever shone on Gollum and none shines on Marion "Pat" Robertson. They both live in a dark barren landscape of pitfalls, swamps and fear. Robertson's head fills the screen of the lobotomy box and snuffles like a pig picking up truffles of cash sent in by viewers, a motley collection of lonely seniors and brain-dead lunatics twaddle-doodling their dung-buckets and diddling their swiggle-bumps.
Over the years, Robertson has made many outrageous claims about gay people, like Disney Gay Days would bring about terrorist bombs, earthquakes, tornadoes, and "possibly a meteor." Recently, he suggested gays where specially colored clothes. The Nazis had the same idea with their pink triangles in the death camps.
In 1993, Robertson said: "When lawlessness is abroad in the land, the same thing will happen here that happened in Nazi Germany. Many of those people involved in Adolph Hitler were Satanists. Many of them were homosexuals. The two things seem to go together."
"[Homosexuals] want to come into churches and disrupt church services and throw blood all around and try to give people AIDS and spit in the face of ministers."
A couple of weeks ago, Robertson announced that the recent Supreme Court ruling on same-sex marriage was only an opinion: "Congress didn't pass any law," he said, slithering out from under a rock, "Your state legislature didn't pass a law. So you're not under anything. It's a decision of the court having to do with a couple of people. Now they would like to make it bigger than that but, in terms of the Constitution, it isn't."
While Marion Gordon "Pat" Robertson resembles Gollum, the Republican presidential candidates look like Muppets to me. When I see Donald Trump's head pop up on TV I think of the Swedish chef. When Trump says:
"When Mexico sends its people, they're not sending their best. They're sending people that have lots of problems, and they're bringing those problems with them. They're bringing drugs. They're bringing crime. They're rapists. And some, I assume, are good people."
What I hear is this:
"Vhee Mexeecu sends its peuple-a, zeey're-a nut sendeeng zeeur best. Zeey're-a sendeeng peuple-a thet hefe-a luts ooff prublems, und zeey're-a breenging thuse-a prublems veet us. Zeey're-a breenging droogs. Zeey're-a breenging creeme-a. Zeey're-a repeests. Und sume-a, I essoome-a, ere-a guud peuple-a."
Now, aged 64, having listened to these elected officials all my life, I find myself incapable of taking them seriously: Marco Rubio looks like a 4-year-old boy waiting for someone to tie his shoelaces; Ted Cruz has all the charm and charisma of a child molester; Chris Christie reminds me of a blob of wax floating in a lava lamp; Jeb Bush is a grinning used-car salesman in a cheesy homemade commercial; Lindsay Graham is a gay Rizzo the Rat; Mike Huckabee is a Triple Big Mac dropped on the floor at a Walmart; Rick Santorum looks like a toilet brush; and Carly Fiorina is a suburban weasel on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
In this circus of presidential candidates I see no humanity, no empathy, no kindnessonly anger and greed. I see rampaging orcs stomping on the poor as America drifts towards fascism.