by Caleb Hannan
Because of a tough economic forecast, we here at Pith didn't have the resources to send a correspondent to last night's Presidential debate. Thankfully, Chazz the white Rastafarian, who hangs out in a nearby parking lot selling weed, offered to camp out at Belmont and file this report free of charge:
OK. So listen up, MAN. Tomorrow lots of folks are gonna be coming at you from all angles, PRETENDING to know what it was like here tonight. You know what I'm talking about. Belmont. Debate '08. THE BATTLE AT BONGO.
But I'm here to tell you one thing: DON'T LISTEN TO THEM. Barry, Woods, that know-nothing carpetbagger Kotz. They've all got AGENDAS, man. And Tobia? Don't even get me started on Tobia! Did you know he wears SPORTCOATS every day?! Are you gonna trust the opinion of a guy who looks like he just christened his YACHT?
(lights patchouli stick.)
No man, for a real taste of Tuesday night you've got to get LOW. I'm talking GROUND LEVEL. Out amongst the PEOPLE...
Yeahhhhhhhhhhh, that's more like it. Not a single starched shirt in sight. As you can see, everyone's here.
We've got the Iraq protesters...
the Nader supporters...
the foot, um, fetishists?
Even the kids, man. The KIDS!
They're all here because they know. THEY KNOW, man. They know this election is just a sham. A farce. A two-party power grab to maintain the oligarchical nature of our oppressive political system that only serves to keep down RIGHTEOUS STRUGGLERS like you and I.
(deposits rent check from parents)
I mean, THINK ABOUT IT FOR A SECOND. Of all the places to stick US, the ones who know the TRUTH, they choose a Circle K?
(raises pierced eyebrow suspiciously)
What do you think THEY are trying to say, huh? I'll tell you what THEY are trying to say...
WE'RE ALL AROUND YOU MAN.
There's NOWHERE to hide. They thought they could slip that kind of subtle mind control past old Chazz, but I'm on to it.
DID YOU HEAR THAT, YOU FASCIST PIG?! I'M ON TO YOU!
Man, it just gets me so MAD! All these PEOPLE walking around in their "GAP" jeans and "DESIGNER" glasses and "CLOSED-TOE" shoes. Ugh.
If only there were a way I could help them see the TRUTH. To find an honest and straightforward way to reach out to them, get them to see that life isn't so sweet when you're not in an IVORY TOWER. But how? How might I, Chazz, a simple, dreaded white Rastafarian, promote independent thought in a land full of sheep?
Wait, I think I've got an idea...
(picks up bullhorn)
THINK FOR YOURSELVES, MORONS!
Phew, OK. I think that might have worked.
God, I smell.