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The Weekly Top Zen: Fly Me to the Moon


I’m sick as I write this. My back aches, my shoulders are tense and I’ve found myself coughing up very interesting variations of the color green. Simply put, my body hates me right now. I don’t know what I did to upset it, but it is clearly getting its point across that it is very, very displeased with me.

It doesn’t help that I am a wimp when it comes to feeling under the weather. A scratchy throat is grounds for wrapping myself in a cocoon of blankets, turning off the lights and trying to listen to music over the sound of my own wheezing. 

Naturally, then, the way I’m currently feeling is enough to convince me that I should pen my last will and testament.

It’s pretty simple: I, Andy Paul, hereby donate all my belongings and savings to Newt Gingrich’s campaign fund. Of all the candidates in the Republican primaries, Mr. Gingrich stands out among the rest as being the surefire politician to bring about the apocalypse. 

As someone who’s convinced his sore throat and minor cough will almost certainly develop into a fatal bout of the plague, I wish to see the rest of the world crumble around me. Only then will I not feel so bad about my untimely passing.

Sorry, that emotional depravity was almost surely a result of fever hallucinations, and I’ve spent the past hour brushing up on Gingrich campaign promises. 

Were you aware, in addition to Newt’s very public, unabashed bouts of scum-villainy, that the man wants to colonize the moon? The moon! If that isn’t reason enough to donate all you own to his campaign, I don’t know what is. 

Take all the Tea Partiers and uber-wealthy Neo-Cons you can find, and blast them off to the moon. Genius!

Newt is a prime example of hotheadedness and unapologetic naivety in today’s heated campaign, and if you’ve paid attention recently, that is certainly saying a lot. 

Angry that your poll numbers are in decline while your critics deride your economic and domestic policies? Lash out while leaving Sunday church services. I admire any man with such a drive to get to the White House by any means necessary. 

Who cares if it’s supposedly your faith’s day of rest? Tell the press you are going to church, and then use that opportunity to rail against Mitt Romney. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if in the coming weeks Gingrich finally just says, “I mean, he’s Mormon. Isn’t he, like, two-thirds a citizen, anyway?”

Yes, should I indeed shuffle off this mortal coil, I want it known publicly that I support Newt Gingrich for the 2012 Republican presidential nominee. I mean, with Herman Cain out of the race, Gingrich is the next best thing to the Pizza Man himself. And it’s been quite some time since we’ve had a presidential candidate as jowly as Gingrich. He even gives Nixon a run for his money. I mean that literally. The man is loaded.

After that last zinger, I’m convinced this virus has spread to my brain. It’s been nice knowing all of you.