Gnarlatious Revelation

Glenn Beck is receiving instructions directly from the Big Kahuna. While less blessed holy men struggle with sacred texts for spiritual guidance, Glenn is getting his dope straight from the horse’s mouth. Who needs printed paper when the audio version is piped in for free? Think of the relief fading eyesight would receive if Stephen King, his New England accent emanating from somewhere deep inside your brain, eliminated the need to shop retail. Of course hearing King recite “The Stand” from beginning to end does limit the lucky recipient’s ability to concentrate on other things. And depending on the volume, getting a good night’s sleep could become problematic. Maybe this is why schizophrenics often turn to drugs and alcohol -- especially if the voice is Mark Levin squealing the same Hardy Boys mystery twenty four hours a day. I vaguely remember enjoying “Hunting for Hidden Gold” when navigating my way through fifth grade, but Levin’s continual internal narration of their wild adventure is as good a reason as any to get down with Grey Goose.

History is sprinkled with prophets claiming a close relationship with the Big Kahuna. The more successful prophets’ spawned monotheistic religions that can’t figure out who listened to the one true Hodad of all Bomboras and who listened to George Burns. In terms of seniority, Christianity has a 600 year edge on Islam, and the Jews have both beat by roughly 1,700 years. Perhaps Glenn is the prophet who will bring all three religions together, forever ending the bloody infighting between Abram/Abraham’s descendants. But because Glenn’s been vague about what his supernatural chats entail, I’m not awaiting in tingly anticipation over what the Big Kahuna eventually reveals, via His Vick’s VapoRub huffing buddy. However, working in Glenn’s favor is the fact Limbaugh’s talent source chose a dry drunk with a history of dummy dust addiction over the average sheet metal worker; it does follow the “mysterious ways” motif. And it wouldn’t be the first time the creator of airborne pollen threw mankind another screw ball. Molding a “rodeo clown” from bullshit makes sense when you consider Sister Sarah grossed $12 million last year.

I’m going to be disappointed if “The Plan” (what Glenn calls his latest gag) turns out to be a celestial-seasoned sales pitch to buy gold and/or “survival” seeds.