Lephari and the Pirate Raid

Tis midnight on the Caribbean Sea.
The cruise ship of the National Review
Lies dark and quiet ‘neath a sultry moon.
The passengers have knelt and thanked their Lord
That they are white, American and rich,
And now they sleep and dream they rule the world.
So deep asleep, they're fully unaware
That in the darkest hours of the night
The Snakeskin Bentley slithers alongside,
And Newshound PbDs and PsDs
Throw grappling-hooks attached to hempen ladders
Up to the cruise-ship’s rails, and start to climb.
Lo! Foremost, with a cutlass in his teeth,
Goes Jonathan the Terror of the Seas,
Though youngest, not the least in fortitude.
And close behind him climb ET the Blue,
Robosa with his monkey, Flying Roachman,
And all the Newshounds of the Caribbean,
All softly chanting, "Get O’Reilly's ass."

Meanwhile, Lephari, locked inside the hold,
Rants loud, and shrieks, and hammers on the door.
"WAKE UP, ALL YE WHO LOVE AMERICA!!!
THE VILE AND STINKING LIBTARDS ARE UPON YOU!!"
But Dead-Eye Ori’s cast a spell of silence
Upon the hold, and only Baskerville,
The tireless Newshound guard, can hear his voice.
At last he gives it up, and screams no more.
He finds his keys, forgotten in his pocket,
Upon a key-chain with a tiny flashlight.
He turns it on, and scans his prison cell.
My God, it’s full of loot! He’s sitting on
A pile of gold doubloons! He’s leaning on
A seven-foot TV, and at his feet
Lie jewels in profusion. He can stuff
Whole handfuls in his pockets (which he does.)
And, noticeably plain among the bling,
He finds a terra-cotta pottery shard,
The rim perhaps of long-lost bowl or jar.
He picks it up, and much to his surprise,
He sees engraved upon it, bold and black,
The three words: JARLSBERG. INVERT. COMFORTER.
Though he has no idea what they mean
He puts it in his pocket.

Here they come,

The Newshounds, weighted down with pirate loot!
The cruise ship’s steaming terrified away,
Its passengers stripped to their underwear;
One prisoner they carry, bound and gagged -
‘Tis Bill O’Reilly! Glorious trophy he!
Lephari’s prison opens. "Come on out!"
Says Dead-eye Ori, "And enjoy the feast!
There’s wine and cheese, pate and jumbo shrimp.
There’s veal medallions and a fine risotto,
And you should see the shipload of desserts!
‘Tis food too good to waste on Bill O’Reilly!"
Ah, fain would our Lephari have refused,
But after hours in captivity,
His stomach rumbleth like a gravel truck.
"I’ll eat, and then I’ll save my hero Bill,"
He thinks, and leaves his prison.

On the beach

A merry party’s getting under way.
The air is filled with smell of roasting meat.
Fine wines and pungent brandies go around.
A roaring fire burns its merry way
Through copies of Ann Coulter’s latest book.
The Newshounds, clad in stolen finery,
Are dancing in a circle round the blaze,
While Jolly Nell upon the fiddle saws
And Vermont Davy Jones strums his guitar.
So hungry is Lephari that he grabs
The nearest cheese, and rounds of fresh baguette,
And shoves them in his mouth. But, hunger slaked,
He turns to seek O’Reilly. There he is!
Clad only in a garment made of loofahs,
Bound to a palm tree, gagged with videotape,
Which ever and anon he worketh loose
To yell, "You secular progressive swine,
You let me go! You let me go right now!"
To which the Newshounds holler, "Just shut up!"
"Admit it - you don’t really want to go,"
ET the Blue says sweetly. "Just the fact
That you’re still here means you’re enjoying it.
That’s your own logic." And the Newshounds sing,

Cut his mike and make him listen
Cut his mike and make him listen
Cut his mike and make him listen
Early in the morning.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO THIS SAINTLY MAN?"
Lephari cries. ‘YOU JIHAD LIBTARDS VILE!
SO FULL OF HATRED FOR AMERICA!!
OF CHENEY-HATE, AND CONDOLEEZZA-HATE,
JOHN-HAGEE-HATE, SECOND-AMENDMENT-HATE,
AND JUST PLAIN HATE! HATE! HATE!! HATE!! HATE!!! HATE!!! HATE!!!!"
"Relax," replies the King of Lost Doubloons.
"We’re giving him a taste of his own meds.
Chill out, and have a glass of wine, and more
Of this extraordinary Jarlsberg cheese."
Lephari’s face turns purple. "JARLSBERG CHEESE!!?!?!?
ALAS FOR ME! FOR IN MY STARVING STATE
I’VE SWALLOWED VILE NORWEGIAN FOOD, THE DREGS
OF THAT FOUL WORKERS’ PARADISE, THAT DEN
OF TERRORIST, TREE-HUGGING, REINDEER-BUMPING,
HOSPITAL-SOCIALIZING, PIAPS-LOVING,
AMERICA-DESPISING VIKING SCUM!
I AM DEFILED! MY RED AMERICAN BLOOD
BEFOULED BY JARLSBERG! WOE, OH WOE IS ME!!!!
HOW SHALL I PURGE MYSELF?"

To be continued.

Courtroom Drama! Tempers Flare and Accusations Fly at Closed-Door Konservo Hearing!

Colorful and dramatic reports were filed following the first day of hearings in Metropolitan Airports Commission v. “Konservo,” a landmark case being heard in Minnesota’s Fourth District Court before the bench of Judge Pamela G. Alexander.

Signs of the fireworks to come were clear at the very beginning of the closed-door hearing, with the defendant’s arrival. He appeared clad in an orange jumpsuit and slippers, desperately gripping a Swiffer™ duster in his cuffed hands. Defense counsel Kjell-Olaf Yakimoto reluctantly explained to the bench that his client had become so distraught without his toilet brush, on the walk to the courtroom he had snatched the Swiffer™ from a janitor’s cart and threatened violence and the Wrath Of Ralph on anyone who tried to take the item away from him, at one point nearly kicking a hole in the wall. Officers escorting the defendant added that they’d had enough difficulty getting him to leave the roll of toilet tissue in his holding cell – said effort having prompted the handcuffs and necessitated first aid for abrasions and a suspected sprained wrist in one officer’s case – and judged the Swiffer™ a benign risk. Judge Alexander agreed and the litigants were seated…Konservo lightly dusting the surface of the table and humming the title tune from Mame under his breath.

Prosecuting attorney Thomas Anderson of the MAC Legal Division asserted in opening statements that the defendant’s actions in the Minneapolis-St. Paul Airport restroom made famous by Senator Larry Craig's alleged indiscretions were just one step shy of domestic terrorism. “At a time of heightened risk, to take up a fortified position within an airport facility is clearly an act of provocation designed to engender fear in travelers and airport staff,” he opined. “Additionally, the use of the blow-up doll as part of the barricade was deeply offensive to many travelers as an element of public lewdness, and there was a high safety risk posed by the potato trail left by the defendant – particularly the raw peelings.” Anderson stated his intent to seek the full penalty for all charges, from the police standoff right down to the bathroom graffiti. Convictions on all counts could, taken together, result in a sentence of up to 15 years in prison and fines of over $250,000.

Rising to Konservo’s defense – after insisting that the defendant stop pounding on the tabletop calling for a karaoke performance – was defense counsel Yakimoto. He urged Judge Alexander to throw out the case, painting the incident as “clearly motivated by the defendant’s high admiration for Senator Craig and his contributions to the state of Idaho” and floating a trial balloon for a “performance art” explanation. When Judge Alexander stated that she found little artistic merit in Konservo’s airport antics, Yakimoto – with a barely-audible stage whisper to Konservo to “for God’s sake stay in your seat, you idiot!” – responded that art is in the eye of the beholder, entering for the record Konservo’s rave reviews from the Lookout Bar & Bistro in Ottawa. He concluded his remarks by suggesting that public service, perhaps janitorial given Konservo’s toilet-brush penchant, would be an acceptable compromise toward his client sidestepping more serious charges.

Speaking from the bench, Judge Alexander commented that in her 24 years of service in Minnesota courts, she had never before encountered quite so unusual a case, and in a rare breach of court protocol directly addressed the defendant, asking Konservo what he had to say for himself.

At this opportunity, Konservo leapt to his feet, waving the Swiffer™ triumphantly and singing in a somewhat grating falsetto:

I’m a grand old fag,
I’m in love with the flag,
And with Senators in restrooms galore!
They’re the emblem of
The stuff I love,
And I just can’t wait to get more!

Every foot taps true
Be you red, be you blue,
And Jeff Gannon’s jets never “lag.”
So should auld acquaintance be forgot,
Here’s a look at my grand old wag!

Having delivered the final line while shaking his backside energetically toward the bench, he then took an exaggerated bow, blowing kisses to all corners of the courtroom, proclaiming “I love you, Minneapolis! I love you! Ralph/Blat 2008!! Larry – CALL ME!!”

Then, as abruptly as his outburst began, the defendant seated himself again, placidly humming once again – this time, the tune appeared to be “The Way We Were” – and he set aside the Swiffer™ to absently doodle Senator Craig’s name on a notepad, dotting the “i” in Craig with a heart.

Judge Alexander immediately reprimanded defendant and counsel for a display unbecoming the court and recommended to Yakimoto that, prior to jury selection several days hence, he might want to consider the wisdom of a not-guilty-by-reason-of-insanity plea.

Konservo was escorted from the courtroom by the officers, tearfully clutching his Swiffer™ and saying “Hello, everybody. This…is…Mrs. Norman Maine…”

More as it develops in this groundbreaking legal case.

"They'll Never Take our Blat!" Arizonans vow

The Arizona desert is boiling with outrage.

A rumor that RALPH is heading their way, spoiling for a showdown with California Blat, has the local plenty people upset. "He can’t do that," says Stacy Hernandez, a counter attendant at the McDonald’s in Winslow. "Blat’s our hero." she said. Tyler Blake, an attendant at the nearby Circle K gas station, was much blunter. "Anyone wants to fuck with him they’ll have to get by us first."

Plans are reportedly underway for a Live Blat benefit rally and concert, possibly in Grand Canyon Village. We’ll let you know more details, especially if they get Bono to appear.

No one is more outraged than the Moment-Men, currently sharing a house in Holbrook and living on the bounty of Blat’s magic baseball cap. "We ain’t gonna let Ralph git our man," Hiram told reporters flatly. "Blat jumped our roadblock but I bet you dollars to doughnuts Ralph ain’t got that kind of power."

In answer to further questions he added, "Eustace is out of hospital but he’s got one of them big cast things and he’s gotta keep it on for the next two months. He sits watchin’ them soap opries and that keeps him happy." Young Jesse Earl is not quite so sedentary; he’s been making the circuit of radio talk shows, elaborating on his theory that California Blat is Jesus Christ.

In other news - Konservo’s first court appearance in connection with his display at the Minneapolis/St. Paul Airport will take place shortly. His lawyer, Kjell-Olaf Yakimoto, thinks he can get his client off with community service. We await the outcome eagerly.

Ralph Urges Norwegian Boycott in Stump Appearances

Following an extended campaign slump, news of the Nobel Peace Prize award to joint recipients Al Gore and the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change appears to have reignited RALPH's campaign fervor, sending the candidate on a rapid-fire pilgrimage to Sons of Norway lodges throughout the Upper Midwest states. At these stops he issued variations on the following address:

"THE NOBEL PRIZE COMMITTEE IS IN NORWAY! THIS MEANS IT'S COMPOSED PRETTY MUCH OF NORWEGIANS!! NEVER MIND THAT THEIR COUNTRY IS AT THE TOP OF THE UNITED NATIONS RANKINGS IN THE HUMAN DEVELOPMENT INDEX - EVERYBODY KNOWS THAT U.S.A. IS NUMBER ONE!!!! AND THE NOBEL COMMITTEE HAS CHOSEN TO IGNORE THAT PREEMINENCE AND TO SPIT IN THE FACE OF AMERICA'S-GREATEST-PRESIDENT GEORGE W. BUSH BY AWARDING THE NOBEL PEACE PRIZE TO AL GORE, WHO ISN'T EVEN AN AMERICAN!!!!"



When an audience member at one stop interrupted to remind the candidate that Gore was in fact a United States Senator, a two-term Vice President and a Presidential candidate himself, as well as undeniably American, RALPH responded: "THAT'S VILE, SAPPHIC LIBTARDED PROPAGANDA! EVERYONE KNOWS THAT "GORE" IS WHAT HAPPENS DURING BULLFIGHTS, ONE WAY OR ANOTHER!! SO GORE IS CLEARLY SPANISH!! OR MAYBE MEXICAN!! EITHER WAY, I DON'T WANT HIS SOCIALISTIC, PIAPS-LOVING HANDS PICKING MY LETTUCE!!!!!!!" He then dispatched Campaign Blat and Über Troll into the crowd to subdue and remove the questioner, which they accomplished using large bratwursts as clubs. The Sonny Brothers remained on the sidelines, eating corn on the cob.

RALPH then called for an immediate boycott of all things Norwegian. "ALL MY CAMPAIGN SUPPORTERS MUST IMMEDIATELY STOP LISTENING TO 'PRAIRIE HOME COMPANION'...ON THE OFF CHANCE THAT YOU WERE, WHICH I DOUBT...AND MUST ALSO EAT NO HERRING, LUTEFISK OR MEATBALLS!! GIVE YOUR JARLSBERG TO CHEESE-EATING, DOUGHNUT-BUMPING SURRENDER MONKEYS WHO WILL LAP IT RIGHT UP!!! TURN IN YOUR F(J)ORDS AND START DRIVING SOMETHING AMERICAN, LIKE CHEVROLETS!!!!! (ONLY PRONOUNCE IT SHEV-RO-LETT: YOU DON'T WANT TO SOUND FRENCH.) DON'T GO ON CRUISES!! STAY AWAY FROM GRIEG AND MUNCH AND IBSEN, AND DON'T ALLOW THE DEMONIC DRINK AKVAVIT TO TOUCH YOUR LIPS!!!! DON'T LET YOUR CHILDREN BE VIKINGS FOR HALLOWEEN - SEND THEM OUT TO PROSELYTIZE WITH RAPTURE-READY TRACTS INSTEAD!!!! EVEN OKTOBERFEST IS SUSPECT - TOO CLOSE TO SCANDINAVIA!!!!"

Arriving for his final campaign stop at the Sons of Norway Nordmarka Lodge in Northfield, Minnesota, RALPH there unveiled the campaign video which is displayed earlier in this entry.

Skeptical members were not convinced. Lodge co-President Gerhard Knutson commented that, "This RALPH character seems delusional to me. His running mate was a little more sane, but, then, he's from Minnesota, so that's understandable. Couldn't understand why he kept trying to sell me vitamin tonic, though. And he wouldn't even try the fantastic coffee cake the ladies' auxiliary prepared. That just seemed rude." Knutson's shared office-holder Jon Rondestvedt was even more blunt in his assessment. "The guy's a complete looney," he observed. "Telling US not to observe our proud Norwegian heritage? Honestly, you'd think he was some kind of tragically uneducated right-wing blowhard whose blog was read only by people making fun of him. But I'm sure that's not possible even for this clown...I mean, you can't be THAT dumb and still wind up running for President, can you?"

RALPH did not remain on premises to take questions from the Sons of Norway, but instead boarded the campaign van hastily. At last sighting the campaign team was headed vaguely westward, fueling speculation that RALPH finally plans a confrontation with California Blat, last reported as undertaking a self-imposed vision-quest in the Petrified Forest National Park.

Alas, poor Ralphy! We hardly know ye!

Where has the old fire gone?

In the past few weeks numerous observers of the Troll Party scene have remarked on the Candidate’s half-heartedness. He makes few speeches these days. Occasionally he’ll show up at a church meeting but usually he has little to add to his usual talking points: “SKANKY DOUGHNUT-BUMPING PIAPS” or “DEMLIBS HATE AMERICA!!! THEY ARE EXPOSED!!” which he throws out almost mechanically, as if he himself is sick of saying them.

His fans are desperately disappointed. "Ralph's standards have dropped in the last month or so,” remarks TB from the RALPH Appreciation Society of Australia. “In his prime he was such a visionary lunatic...a real path-non-finder, if you will,” sighs longtime Ralph-watcher ET. "Bring back our Ralphy to us, oh please."

Most disappointingly, despite entreaties from around the world, he has not produced a new chapter of “The Morning After” in months. “Maybe he has Plot Problems,” theorizes W.E. Nelson of the National Capital RALPH Appreciation Society. Professor D. Alastair MacBombast was more fulsome in his disappointment. “His narrative, hurling the reader as it did in medias res, or more exactly, in medias bumpus donutibus, built up a churning vortex of passion, a drooling expectation of what would follow. And then nothing followed. NOTHING!! NICHTS!! NADA!! SPITBALLS!!! Oh Ralphy, my Ralphy, how could you do this to us?”

RALPH has so far not explained his altered state. In general he keeps to his room in the campaign RV, Über Troll standing guard at the door with a spike-studded crowbar. Campaign Blat spends most of his time playing solitaire tiddlywinks, while the Sonny Brothers usually head for the nearest bar where they can be heard complaining about what horrible company the Candidate is, and how they're so bored they’d rather have been swallowed by a sea-monster like Prophet Lephari.

What has caused this downturn? Well, consider the sad circumstances of RALPH's life lately:
• not only have the Moment-Men failed to capture California Blat, they’ve actually become Blat’s disciples and told RALPH to take a hike;
• RALPH has failed in his quest to find a trophy wife - or any woman at all, for that matter;
• His once-beloved Konservo decided he preferred life as a female impersonator to being RALPH's follower, and he's in jail now anyway.

What can be done to revive RALPH’s campaign fire??

Campaign Shocker! Konservo Arrested in Minneapolis!

The Ralph/Blat 2008 campaign has been anxiously awaiting news of Konservo following his enigmatic exit from the Ottawa club where his drag act had become such a sensation in recent weeks. That news came in the early morning hours of October 9, 2007...but not with the results this campaign might have preferred.

Konservo-watchers in Minnesota noted a police radio call to a departure concourse at the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport, and the reference to an Ethel Merman lookalike alerted one such watcher to the likelihood of a Konservo-sighting. He duly reported to the airport, purchasing a stand-by round-trip ticket to Madison, WI on a commuter flight, and met with an astonishing sight upon clearing security.

Airport police had attempted to clear the concourse but did so only with grave difficulty given the potato peels and chunks that littered the walkway leading toward the gate area. A kind of starchy breadcrumb-trail, the spud pieces led directly to the infamous public restroom that has figured in the scandal surrounding Senator Larry Craig (R-ID) and his guilty plea to soliciting sexual activity in said restroom earlier this year.

Our on-site campaign stalwart Sven Svennsonsdottir (not his real name...or is it?) explains in his own words:

- - - -

I followed the potato trail to the restroom in question, cordoned off as closed for renovations, but found a naked blow-up doll draped across the barrier and a hand-lettered sign saying "Larry, I love you! Come back to me! All is forgiven! I don't know how to quit you! Love and kisses, XOXOXOXO, Konservo." That was when I knew I had hit campaign paydirt.

Police had a bullhorn and were negotiating with Konservo to come out of the restroom voluntarily. They weren't sure at that point whether or not a hostage situation was in play or not.

As I stood by, the police stormed the restroom with tear gas, pepper spray, and packets of french fries from the McDonald's further down the concourse, on the assumption that potato products might tempt their target. There were sounds of a scuffle within and at least two officers were sent for medical attention due to toilet-brush-burn from the altercation.

Eventually the police emerged with Konservo in custody, his facial makeup running a little from sweat but otherwise in high spirits, chanting "Ralph is Great in 2008! USA! All the way! Rapture this, you losers!" If his ankles had not been restrained I feel sure he would have stripped off his underpants and flung them into the crowd - he seemed to treat the incident as he would just another drag act.

While an officer was reciting the charges for the media - including vandalism, entering a restricted area within an airport, traveling under an assumed name and resisting arrest - I managed to slip into the restroom and snap the photo which illustrates this report. Konservo's toilet brush and the Ethel Merman wig have since been confiscated by police, but I believe the graffiti persists pending the restroom renovation.

The occupant of the adjacent stall - shoe slightly visible in the photo - evaded authorities and remains at large as far as I know.

- - - -

Minneapolis police are holding Konservo in lieu of $50,000 bail. Although the toilet brush and Ethel Merman wig have been entered as evidence in the case, unconfirmed reports say that the blow-up doll just outside the restroom has appeared on offer at eBay.

Lephari in the Pirates' Lair

Lephari sits upon a pearly beach,
And glumly prays, and tears upon his hair.
Meanwhile the Newshounds of the Caribbean
Are dancing in a circle, to a tune
Bouncing from Red-Eye Dave’s harmonica.
Anon they call him, "Come and join the fun!"
But resolute Lephari shakes his head.
"I’LL HAVE NO FUN WITH LIBTARDS!" he replies.
" I’M ON A MISSION, AND IF I SUCCEED
I’LL SAVE THE WORLD FROM DIRE CALAMITY -
IN OTHER WORDS, FROM PIAPS AND FROM YOU!!!"
The Newshounds laugh, and then begin to sing,

What shall we do with Rapture Ralphy,
What shall we do with Rapture Ralphy,
What shall we do with Rapture Ralphy
Early in the morning?

And Dead-Eye Ori sings out the reply,

Put him in a dress and call him PIAPS,
Put him in a dress and call him PIAPS
Put him in a dress and call him PIAPS
Early in the morning.

Anon a rowboat cruncheth into shore -
It is the Mad Canucks; their boat is laden
With two-fours and with Timbits succulent.
They disembark, a-shouting all at once.
"Great news, my friends!" cries Okanagan Laddie.
"A ship ripe for the looting comes this way!"
He opens up an Export with his teeth.
"And what a ship!" says Jolly Nell. "For ‘tis
The cruise-ship of the National Review,
With Kristol, Malkin and Joe Lieberman,
And Bill O’Reilly as a special guest!"

Oh how the pirates whoop and cheer and dance!
"Hurrah!" they cry. "The Rabid Right is ours!
We’ll feast upon their lobster and champagne!
We’ll take their ship and sail it down to Rio,
And spend their loot in Ipanema Bay!
And as for Lord Falafel..." they begin
To outline, at great length, their plans for him,
And they draw lots for who shall have the honor
Of making Bill O’Reilly walk the plank.
"DESIST, YE LIBTARDS VILE!!" Lephari shrieks.
"YOU HATE AMERICA! YOU ARE EXPOSED!!
YOU SHALL NOT TORMENT FAIR-AND-BALANCED BILL,
NOR SUBJECT HIM TO DEGRADATIONS VILE
YOU LEARNED WHILE LICKING SKANKY PIAPS’ FEET!!"
"Relax," says ET Blue, "and have a doughnut."
But nothing stops our wild Lephari’s rant.
"BEWARE OF ME!" he screams. "FOR I SHALL GO
TO BILL O’REILLY AND HIS RIGHTEOUS FEW,
AND WARN THEM OF YOUR FOUL NEFARIOUS PLANS!"
"Oh no!" the pirates say, "We won’t have that!"
And IB Blackheart thus begins to sing:

Put him in the hold without his cap-lock
Put him in the hold without his cap-lock
Put him in the hold without his cap-lock
Early in the morning.

And to the ship they drag our poor Lephari,
And lock him in the hold; and at the door
They leave the Newshounds’ hound, fierce Baskerville
Who snarls with every move Lephari makes.
The ship begins to move; the rafters creak,
The sails go whipping in the freshening wind.
And crouched inside the hold Lephari hears
The voices of the Newshounds lift in song:

Blow ye winds, heigh-ho
A pirating we go!
We’ll give the Right
One hell of a fright.
They’ll shiver from head to toe

How our Lephari hammers on the door!
Alas, to no avail.
...to be continued.

Konservo On the Road?

Patrons of the Lookout Bar & Bistro hoping to take in area sensation Konservo’s hot new “Flying Nun” tribute found themselves disappointed this week as the main attraction vanished unaccountably from the scene.

When he failed to appear for the first of two scheduled performances on Tuesday, October 2, club management checked the dressing room and made an unexpected and alarming discovery. One entire wall was covered with random pages of stories from Newsweek, Time, and U.S. News & World Report, each torn out and individually skewered to the wall with steak knives from the kitchen. A selection of Konservo’s naughtier underwear was found in a large Tupperware container filled almost to the brim with Shalimar perfume (hazmat teams were quickly summoned to safely dispose of the pungent mixing bowl and burp-and-seal lid). The overflowing wastebasket revealed numerous abortive attempts to pen what seemed to be a love note, each with many crossings-out and the addressee’s name obliterated so furiously in purple ink that it was unreadable. Authorities’ only clue to Konservo’s possible whereabouts was a Travelocity receipt apparently printed in duplicate on the dressing room inkjet, indicating that Konservo had reserved a sportscar through Hertz - on a Ralph/Blat 2008 campaign account - with an open-ended return date.

“Course I remember him,” said the agent at the car rental firm’s York Street location. “You don’t soon forget that mix of facial makeup, scraggly beard and ballet costume. I did offer to upgrade him to a crossover SUV to accommodate the tutu better, but he insisted on the Porsche.” Citing client confidentiality, the agent declined to state his customer’s planned destination, but did say that he had requested a map including the upper Midwestern U.S. states, suggesting that his wildly successful flirtation with the Ottawa club scene may be at an unfortunate end.

Konservo was last seen heading toward the Trans-Canada Highway West, his trusty toilet brush clutched in the hands of a blow-up doll, wearing his Ethel Merman costume, in the passenger seat.

Rapture Ralph for President urges anyone who may sight Konservo in the next 48 hours to contact this blog with updated information. In addition to providing this valuable data to local and federal law enforcement entities, we have entered into an arrangement with KOOKS (Konservo Owns Our Kisses Society – the unofficial Konservo Fan Club) to forward cards, letters and requests for locks of beard to his next confirmed location.

Campaign Unveils New Advertisement

In a stunning rebuke to critics who have said that his campaign prospects are "dead in the water" and that the California Blat/Campaign Blat controversies have hampered his competitiveness, RALPH today unveiled a new campaign ad that throws down the gauntlet decisively to his detractors, taking on his chief foe - PIAPS, as he calls her - head-on. Judge for yourselves.

Lephari on the High Seas

Ejected by Leviathan, cast loose
Upon a mission to locate the key
To save earth from Calamity Foretold,
Lephari floats upon a balmy sea
Beneath a white and burning tropic sun.
He’s clinging to a balsam log. All round
Lies water, sapphire blue. On the horizon
He sees a white and palm-encircled beach,
But else there’s naught but water, sapphire blue.
Where are the clues the beast had promised him?
"Oh Lord please send me guidance!" prays Lephari.
But - horrors! - the Lord sends him sharks instead,
A dozen fins slow-circling in the waves.
He paddles hard; the fins come following,
A dozen fins, a thousand hungry teeth.
"VILE LEPROUS LIBTARDS!" bold Lephari cries.
"I KNOW ‘TIS PIAPS SENT YOU! FOR SHE KNOWS
THAT IT’S MY TASK TO SAVE THE WORLD FROM HER!
YOU ARE EXPOSED!!! BUT I AM ON A QUEST,
AND WON’T FORSWEAR IT JUST TO BE YOUR DINNER!"
Something bumps against his legs. He shrieks.

But lo! His prayer is answered, for behold!
Here comes a motorboat at roaring speed!
The predatory fins all disappear.
Strong hands pull our Lephari up on board.
His rescuers are two fellows and a girl,
All rakish-looking, wearing red bandanas.
The lady holds a flask up to his lips.
Raw rum burns down his throat. He screams aloud.
"YOU TOADS! YOU MADE STRONG LIQUOR TOUCH MY LIPS!
I AM DIMINISHED FOR MY NOBLE TASK!"
"What? You don’t like our hospitality?"
A man inquires, with English accent strong.
"Perhaps you’d rather go back overboard
And feed the sharks?" "Oh, no," Lephari says.
"That would be suicide, a horrid sin
All the more horrid since I’m on a quest,
A sacred mission from the Lord Himself
To save the world from dread calamity,
The reign of PIAPS and the end of days -
There's no calamity more dread than that."

"Well, pleased to meet you," says the Englishman.
"We are the Newshounds of the Caribbean.
Here’s San-Fran Sergie, this is Pinchy Kim.
I’m Undisputed King of Lost Doubloons,
UKLD for short. Much feared our band,
Especially by the Rabid Rapture Right.
Off yonder island lies our jolly ship,
The Snakeskin Bentley. Come and join our band!
We’ll sail upon the warm and sunny seas,
And sleep on pearly beaches. Every night
We’ll have a jolly party on the beach
And laugh and sing and trash the Rabid Right."

"O WOE IS ME!" our poor Lephari cries.
I am a prisoner of the Jihad Left!
O LORD PRESERVE ME! Have I e’en escaped
From foul Leviathan’s appalling maw
And from the hungry teeth of hunting sharks,
To fall to PIAPS’ pirates and be doomed
To tortures vile and horrid cruelty?"
"I fear you are so doomed," says Kim. "We’ll start
The tortures now." The three link arms and sing

Fifteen men on O’Reilly’s case
(Cosmoritas and a yo-ho-ho!)
We’ll put that turkey back in his place.
(Drinks all around and don’t be slow!)

Lephari stops his ears, to no avail.
The laughter echoes off the island, and
‘Tis answered from a crowd upon the shore.
Alas for poor Lephari! Is he doomed
To fun forevermore?

To be continued.