One must pity poor Perry, the Republican primary contestant, writhing on the side of the presidential highway after Gingrich pushed him off a speeding campaign bus. One must be Christian and forgiving about the words a man screams out when he is wild eyed and blubbering, staring at the compound-fracture of his ambition. The devil gets their tongue, the lizard gets their brain, and they think of nothing but survival.
So there he lay, the former frontrunner, the man who has never lost an election, the John Holmes of Texas Governors, staring at his 7 percent Gallop numbers, bile filling his guts. Then, out of the highway mirage came a red Mini Cooper with white bonnet stripes and a Union Jack upon the roof. The overtly stylish Etonian immigrant lovers chirped to a stop and dashed toward him like Chariots of Fire. Perry looked at his saviors and saw euro egghead sodomites, scapegoats, patsies who would take his fall. And most importantly, possessed of a vehicle supercharged with homophobia, which could get him back on the road to the White House.
He pulled a straight razor from his boot and put it to the neck of the gay man, slicing through an Hermes scarf and drawing a faint line of blood. He tied the two men up, piled them in the hatchback á la Abu Ghraib, and set after the campaign bus, relishing his notoriety, calling into AM radio stations on his Bluetooth, daring the mainstream media to cover his exploits, like O.J. Simpson in his white Bronco.
Rick Perry’s recent campaign video condemning gays serving in the military was approved by a desperate candidate, driven to dark, sacrificial magic. Homosexual servicemen were his scapegoats. He is an intelligent politician and knows that scapegoatism has worked in the past: for Hitler and the Young Turks, Mao and George Wallace.
But it won’t work this time. Because even though 50 percent of Republican primary voters are evangelical or born again, Perry is embarrassing them; like a drunken, racist uncle screaming family secrets at an engagement party. Soon, Perry will sulk back to Niggerhead Ranch, the family hunting grounds, where he can balm his failure by killing things.