The Devil and John McCain

In 'A Fish Called Wanda,' it is the Nietzsche-devoted Otto who tauntingly berates the stuttering K-K-K-Ken because he "k-k-k-keeps k-k-k-killing the wrong people."

Well, Otto, I have a similar problem with God. He just c-c-c-can't seem to get it right.

It's rumored He possesses all this power, all this righteous, omnipotent Wrath through which He can naturally or supernaturally correct the course of wayward human history, or at least tweak the damn pathetic thing from time to time.

Last week, my confidence level in His immortal might and seemingly obvious intentions hit a high factor of 95, as He ordered an ass-kicking storm to scurry across the Atlantic, Caribbean and Gulf to ultimately disrupt in indirect but definite ways mankind's latest and greatest organized threat to world peace and prosperity: the Republican National Convention.

Yes, the powerful Gustav was to be the latest reminder -- it's apparent we need a lot of them -- of how Republicans will always grossly mismanage even eminently manageable crises. And for a while, it appeared He was going to give them what for, just to really drive the point home to even the dullest of homefolks.

And then -- poof -- through either His divine incompetence or withering authority this teutonic monster of a storm petered out, permitting even the bone-headed Republicans the opportunity to outwit Him. And outwit Him they did, turning what once seemed like their incompetence and withering authority into a public relations extravaganza.

"You have to put people first," said, incredibly, the RNC chairman in screaming defiance of a century of Republican character. And as a way to stage this false sincerity, his fellow malefactors were busily transforming their fat-cat parties in the Twin Cities into Gustav fundraisers, you know, for the little people, the ones they've always put first.

The public relations coup that Gustav promised will soon know no bounds. Rather than a meteorological reminder of what was, this storm, for the GOP, will be converted into a crisis conquered. The crowing, naturally, has already begun.

"You don’t wish for it, but it shows McCain dealing with a surprise — a big event that has consequences on people," said one convention organizer. "It’s redemption for the Republican Party on the competence issue. The convention ends up being about John McCain showing the best way to serve a cause greater than yourself."

Translation: John McCain got briefed and then stood around waiting to be told what to do. But not in the hands of professional image-polishers, who know an exploitable opportunity when they see one: "This is McCain doing the right thing, showing leadership and taking command," the organizer continued. "He’s deciding how to handle this."

Bring in the angels and up the chorus.

But even better than that in the way of public relations? Like a Thank-you-God! lightbulb going on in their satanic little minds, Gustav became the absolutely perfect excuse for convention organizers to disinvite you-know-who and you-know-who-else from coming.

Now, Stalin-style, they can simply airbrush Dick and George out of the family photo, and with them, embodied reminders on stage of what eight years under Republican rule has produced.

"A whole series of Obama ads [is] now in the dumper," observed one GOP consultant as he licked his chops over the Democrats' blowing-away opportunity.

Said another, tipping his hand as to what's in store from the GOP's p.r. department: "The contrast between McCain’s responsibility and the fanatical followers in the temple of the Lord Obama won’t be lost on everyday husbands and wives trying to meet their own responsibilities."

So there you have it. The GOP's quintessential flipping of reality.

When a devastating storm actually did hit the Gulf, John was eating cake with George, oblivious to all of Katrina's horrendous ramifications. Yet when, possibly through divine meteorological mismanagement, a sickly ghost of a storm descends, it's John McCain as Douglas MacArthur, wading ashore to vanquish domestic danger and battle effete Democrats.

You know, just like the Pope, I have no verifiable opinion on the existence of God. But if He does exist, He sure c-c-c-can't seem to get anything right. On the other hand, for rather good reasons I am starting to believe in a proactive and quite competent Devil.