#Romneydeathrally as epic poemPosted on November 7, 2012 by johnbirmingham
This hashtag went berserk today. It was one of the finest examples of crowd sourced story telling I’ve yet seen. I’m going to quote it tomorrow at Blunty but wanted to pull together some of best examples and arrange them in a rough narrative arc. I apologize the to the authors for clipping their handles in the search for a smoother, darkly poetic read.
I claim authorship of none if it and have left the spelling as it was, for anyone who wants to search for the original tweet. It has a weird Lovecraftian Norse Epic feel to it. All it needs are two or three suitably apocalyptic tweets to add a bit of heft the final boss battle.
The #RomneyDeathRally is now real. The blood gates have opened.
“A faceless quivering mass has taken Missouri. Please, take shelter in your homes.” Then the feed went out.
Romney raises his hands as pillars of fire frame the stage. “We have such delightful things to show you!”, he bellows at #RomneyDeathRally
A pulpy, tentacled head surmounted a grotesque and scaly body with rudimentary wings….all disguised within a single man
“Those lucky enough to have your lives, take them with you. However, leave the ballots you’ve lost. They belong to me now.”
“Can you smell it?!” Paul Ryan screams at the assembled. “Can you smell your fear made flesh?!”
“Hollow, hollow,” the crowd wails, “The Romney’s laughter fills us, but we are hollow.”
Glenn Beck gibbers insanely after his lips and eyelids have been removed as punishment for his failures
“You will grovel,” Romney demanded to the woman, “Or suffer The Binder!” The crowd chants: “The Binder!”
Mitt opens one in front of us; it alights to pray on the women. He has boxes more, & they will feed…
Lo, the NecRomnomicon was opened and six upon six women sprung from the binder, declared to be First Wives of Armageddon...
In an awkward coincidence, Meatloaf is devoured by a bat out of hell.
Sarah Palin bursts into tears, which immediately burst into flames at #Romneydeathrally. Her hair grows, emerging as screeching crows.
A ghastly pale moon, enormous and pockmarked, rises behind Romney as Rush Limbaugh disrobes onstage.
In his moon base Newt sips a martini as he continues to watch the devastation spread. “Pity… I liked some of them”
Romney whispers in gutteral tones, echoed by the mewling hordes: “Where we’re going, we don’t need eyes to see”
Romney plunges his hands into the flames. Feels incredible power. But he has not cast the right spells. Dark gods laugh.
He falls on his knees. “Give me Ohio and my sons will serve you.” The earth shudders. Ravens circle the Cleveland skyline.
A thousand souls at Fox News cry out in horror as the ritual goes dreadfully wrong
“The swing states do not swing,” Romney gibbers. “With no pendulum, whither the denizens of the pit?!”
Rupert Murdoch crushes dozens beneath his massive paws as he stomps onto stage. “VOTER FRAUD!” he screams! “It’s all fraud!”
Drones draw closer to the scene, payloads ready to wipe the grisly scene from the face of the earth
“I can be slain by no man,” Romney bellows, breath of rot and sulfur. Hillary Clinton raises her sword. “I am no man!”
Romney grins “what would save YOU, mortal?” Obama smirks and hits the button “Co-workers.” The sky darkens with drones…
Tears of bubbling pitch fall from Romney’s eyes. He wipes them with a hundred dollar bill. The fire melts skin off bones
Briefcase bulging with unmarked ballot papers, Ryan shouts over his shoulder, “Ruuun! Get to the choppa!”
Obama surveys the wasteland,”He hasn’t given a concession yet”. Biden snorts,”Hell, he still hasn’t given tax returns”
As the sun rose, all who had touched the hem of his robe became translucent, fading, melting away. more
Friday, November 9, 2012
The saga-tellers of the Viking past would much approve of crowd-sourced epic poetry. Ever wonder why Vikings are occasionally grim? Just remember that for some very, very long winter nights for centuries, epic poetry was the only entertainment these folks had. And I am quite certain that while some of the keepers of the great historical lessons were a lot better bards than others, everyone knew how to tell a good story. Add that collective impulse to the internet and you have crowd-sourced epic poetry. This is good stuff!