JISHOU, HUNAN — Now that I have dispensed with reading 50 essays and diaries, I can come back to this latest attack on intelligence, reason and modern health care.
First of all, what the hell (heh heh) is a “gay demon?” I’m having trouble wrapping my head around this concept. Buffy never fought gay demons — I think. Maybe they hadn’t come out before she obliterated them. And those three cute witches, Penelope, Prudy and Patty (or whatever their names were), lived in San Francisco, for chrissakes, and THEY never battled gay demons. For that matter, how can you tell if a demon is gay? They usually have anger-management issues, so asking one is not really a bright idea (unless you’re Hellboy).
“Excuse me, Mr Demon, are you gay?”
“Argh!” — and in an instant you’re a pile of ash.
So this Cindy Jacobs must have nerves of steel to tackle those gay demons.
And SuperCindy can take on all kinds of demons that specialize in a lot of naughty things: pornography, addiction, lust, bisexuality, and perversion. I’m trying to picture what these fellas might look like. Jenna Jameson with bright red skin, horns, a forked tail and spikes poking out of her boobs? A walking hypo needle with tentacles, squirting heroin?
Cindy is missing out on a great moneymaker: demon trading cards. No, wait, she probably thinks Magic has that market cornered already.
According to the DKos article, Cindy the Demon Slayer went to a “possessed” city in Argentina, and told the folks there to burn all their idolatrous bric-a-brac, including
pictures, statues, Catholic saints, Books of Mormon, pictures of former lovers, pornographic material, fetishes, drugs, Ouija boards, zodiac charms, good luck symbols, crystals for healing, amulets, talismans, tarot cards, witch dolls, voodoo items, love potions, books of magic, totem poles, certain pieces of jewelry, objects of Freemasonry, horoscopes, gargoyles, native art, foreign souvenirs, and what have you
Pictures of former lovers? What? Why? Love potions? Who buys love potions anymore anyway? (And where can I get some?) Totem poles? The real things are taller than a person and weigh as much as tree. No way I’m carrying that thing down four flights of stairs. (I used my book of magic to shrink it into my carry-on bag. Shh. Don’t tell the TSA. Or Cindy the J. She might come looking for me.)
You know, there’s religion, and then there’s mere superstition. Cindy Lou has redshifted on over to the superstition side of the spectrum. What’s next, burning witches at the stake?
Not like that’s ever been done before. Four hundred years ago. There’s progress for ya.
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