I must admit that I have been overwhelmed by the sheer number of applications to take over the blog during the last days. (YOUR last days, not mine.) Clearly, I am something of an icon and many people look up to me. Heck, hundreds of people want to BE me. There were so many worthy applicants that it was hard to choose.
First, I must thank the dozen or so people who indicated that I would probably not have any trouble running the blog myself after the rapture. Your faith in me is admirable, but at this point we really do have to make plans, not congratulate each other about our greatness.
For privacy reasons, I will not be naming the winner of our contest. He does not need to be overrun with godless sodomites looking for my autograph. I am practically in exile already. Wandering in the wilderness, you might say.
We do have a clear winner. All of his meals include ingredients that were produced more than 100 miles from his home, so he's obviously an enemy of the environment. He leaves Arby’s wrappers in the back of his SUV. He listens to the Dixie Chicks, and after work he likes to unwind by setting American flags on fire with other burning American flags. He’s friends with Maureen Dowd AND Ann Coulter. He’s in favour of stem-cell research, but only to save the lives of other stem cells. He hates universal health care, the Barenaked Ladies and Tim Horton’s coffee. He has no idea who Ben Mulroney or Sacha Trudeau are. And he can’t seem to make up his mind about gay marriage.
I think we can all be quite sure that this fellow is doomed to the lake of fire. He’ll probably be thrown in twice. So you can rest easy, knowing that your daily blogging fix will still be available after I’m taken into the clouds. Of course, you might have to struggle through some liberal tripe for a while, at least until the earthquakes start and he’s blogging in the dark. But let’s face it, that’s probably all that’ll be available anywhere.