Meet Louisiana Governor Bobby Jindal! He's the frontrunner to be the running mate to the presidential candidate closest to death, so it will surely please you to know that, in his brief 36-year life, he has endured many difficult things, including the presence of SATAN HIMSELF. Well, it was either Satan, or a melodramatic college junior whose desire to fuck him made him worry he was gay or something. But we're going to go with Satan, since he's running for vice president, and what better proof that the Devil Remains At Large than the current holder of the vice presidency? That said Bobby's story, written about an episode that took place while he was a rather Jesus-y undergrad at Brown University, sounds a little too much like an emotionally unavailable twentysomething dude's account of a relationship with girl with "drama" to be quite convincing.Watch Glamocracy Megan and I parse Bobby Jindal's satanic verses — and the gas tax holiday bullshit! — after the jump. Seriously, it is so much awesomer than Kucinich with the UFO.


MOE: So Megan. Would you like to have a discussion of the gas tax holiday? Because you aren't the only person who is riled up about


My brother sent me this in some sort of huff this morning.

"At best, this is a plan that would save you pennies a day for the summer months; that is, unless gas prices are raised to fill in the gap, which is just what happened in Illinois, when we tried this a few years ago," he said.
Meanwhile, unless you can magically impose a windfall profits tax on oil companies overnight to pay for the holiday, it could imperil federal highway funding, and cost Indiana more than 6,000 jobs.


I'm not sure if that second graf is a quote or just a somewhat opinionated exposition via the AP reporter but...uh, someone else can care about that.
MOE: Meanwhile ethanol subsidies: some politicians who aren't John McCain are starting to wonder if they're not such a hot idea!?!

MEGAN: I mean, it's just SO STUPID that I am dumbfounded that people buy this. Like, so, so stupid. So, she's proposing a permanent tax increase on the oil companies to fund a temporary gas tax holiday — even though, hello? Raising oil company taxes means that they will raise gas prices because gas demand is practically inelastic. Also, a gas tax holiday (were it to actually do anything to lower prices) would benefit the people that can afford to have really big, gas-guzzling cars and live in big houses in the suburbs more than those of us who have small, fuel efficient cars that we hardly drive even when we have real jobs. Plus, it takes away money from highway spending, busts the budget, yadda yadda and it's like a preview of Clinton II because no one panders to Reagan Republicans quite like a Clinton (cough, welfare reform, DOMA, don't-ask-don't-tell, cough).
MEGAN: Also, ethanol subsidies, like ethanol tariffs, are going nowhere. But, it is amusing that the corn growers trumped the oil companies (and their favorite oxygenate, MTBE) in Washington due to the stupidity of the oil companies.
MOE: Sing it, sister! What about this new poll saying Americans don't really give a shit about Jeremiah Wright, proving once again that Peggy Noonan, who does "not feel a sense of honest anger or violation at his remarks"can channel the public sentiment of America sort of like ...Bobby Jindal's old platonic girlfriend can channel Satan! (How is that for a segue???)
MEGAN: I don't think one can ever have a good segue into a story about exorcism, but that's as good a one as any. Also, reading that story I actually thought, Hmmm, wow, no wonder everyone is talking about him as VP. He seems so normal but he brings that delish Christ-y crazy that the righties love.

MOE: First of all I have to credit Christian for noticing that on the Wikipedia and sending it to me and I have to thank you for paying the $1.50 since I, for the second time in the past fortnight, lost my credit card.
MEGAN: I love the word fortnight. Also, a former roommate with a similar habit made up for it by always memorizing her card number.
MOE: Today Bill Kristol examines the Bobby Jindal phenomenon. Apparently "no fewer than four" — does that mean possibly more than four? Or was that just no fewer than three excess words added to the word count Bill? — but anyway, no fewer than four McCain staffers are hyping the 36-year-old Louisiana governor, who converted to Catholicism from Hinduism as a youth, as a possible veep. He is old enough to be too old for Meghan McCain and young enough to be too young for Cindy. Oh yes and he was a Rhodes scholar like Bill Clinton. But let's not bury the lede here. He once had a very good friend named Susan...
MEGAN: Who had a tumor, but it was really a manifestation of her demonic possession.
MEGAN: Because, really, what tumor isn't just a symptom of possession by demons brought on by a roommate whose relative is a Hmong healer?
MEGAN: Or a mother who left something at a non-Christian shrine 30 years ago.
MOE: Right her mother prayed to a PAGAN SHRINE.
MEGAN: Also, if I can be Barack for a minute — you know, elitist — only in Louisiana would this guy be elected governor. No wonder he published this shit somewhere that one has to pay $1.50 to read it.


MEGAN: Also, Morning Joe wants us to know that Bill Clinton made 2 people faint at rallies this weekend. Maybe he's the devil, too?
MOE: Okay so there's this story in the New Oxford Review — which is, I guess, affiliated with Oxford University, and to which he has contributed numerous pieces about his faith over the years. The New Oxford Review's mission statement reads thusly:

HAVE YOU THE GUTS? Yes, many hate us. Ah, but they also fear us. That's why many others love us. If you hunger for the red meat of Catholicism, subscribe! (No bozos or sissies, please.)

But I might venture to say Piyush Bobby Jindal sort of acted like a sissy when his cancer stricken friend who obviously was seriously depressed tried to express her unrequited love for his oblivious ass.


MOE: Here's how it starts:

Though she had not said anything, I knew something was wrong. Susan and I had developed an intimate friendship; indeed, our relationship mystified observers, who insisted on finding a romantic component where none existed. I called her after the University Christian Fellowship (UCF) meeting — UCF is an Inter-Varsity Christian group composed of undergraduate and graduate students. Though the interdenominational group's weekly program of songs and prayers had produced the usual emotional high among most members, Susan had left the meeting in a very sullen mood. I asked her to join a group of us who were attending a Christian a cappella concert to be held on campus that same evening.

Methinks the "usual emotional high" was just pent-up sexual frustration? Bc that has this way of turning "sullen"...
MEGAN: I'm a little sad I gave then $1.50, honestly. I mean, sort of worth the money to read it but zomg, what will they spend it on? More pictures of the devil like the one they included in the article?
MEGAN: Or, I don't know, her best friend stopped speaking to her because he wanted to fuck her and didn't want to have a relationship with her?
MOE: So basically the backstory was that Bobby hadn't really talked to this friend Susan, because she was in love with him and he was emotionally unavailable, but then he'd decided to invite her to this concert, and she accepted. Oh also I love that they hadn't really spoken in a year but he STILL CONSIDERS HER HIS BEST FRIEND.
9:35 AM
MOE: So she starts crying, and he goes to her dormroom with her.

When we finally reached her dorm room, I promptly sat Susan on a bed and placed myself in a chair located several feet across the room. This physical arrangement was hardly conducive to the love and support I was supposed to be providing, but I was too scared and unsure of myself to get any closer.


MEGAN: Which: dude like that doesn't have a lot of friends. She busts out crying over having motherfucking cancer, and he's all like, I shouldn't hug you because then your boobies will touch my chest and I'll get a boner and God doesn't want that.
MOE: Hahahaha dude also, Christians make the shittiest friends.

They considered skin cancer a minor affliction, something that affects those whose vanity causes them to tan in the sun too long. The only friend who expressed concern was worried about the possibility of contagious cancerous cells.

MEGAN: Well, technically metastacization (is that a word) is the only concern with skin cancer. If someone told me they had a skin cancer lesion, I'd ask what kind and be concerned about it metastacizing.
MOE: metastasize is the word I think


MEGAN: But, I love that Mr. Used-to-be-a-bio-major doesn't use the word.
MOE: Okay, so, he touches her and she feels better.

During Susan's next wave of tears, I found myself putting my arm around her to provide both physical and emotional support. We were soon sitting on the bed next to each other, and I told her a fairy tale. Instead of tackling all of her problems at once, we took each individual concern — e.g., upcoming finals — and magically solved it. Her problems began to seem insignificant and our ability to overcome adversity soon assumed heroic proportions. We were soon laughing, and despair was definitely vanquished, at least for the night. We were both startled to find my arm around her shoulder, but she asked that I continue to hold her for just a few moments longer. I happily complied and we embraced her problems away; along with my soothing words, the simple gesture of a hug was enough to bring peace to Susan's heart for one night.

MEGAN: Because he's a douchebag who isn't ever going to hug her again and she's a little in love, etc.

Susan did not show up at the cafeteria at our agreed upon time and made little effort to warn me of the scheduling conflict that caused her absence. This inconvenience, minor under normal circumstances, proved to be the starting point of an intense struggle of wills...Waiting for an apology, I refused to talk with Susan for a week. She decided I was being silly and refused to admit any error on her part. Somehow, we finally searched deep and found the maturity to discuss our differences.


MEGAN: Ahem. Is "searching deep" the new old way to refer to masturbation?
MOE: So Susan is kind of into the drama, and because she's a "charismatic" — Pentecostal? — Christian she can get away with using words like "visions" to describe her recent nightmares. She's depressed and she thinks she's seen spirits or some shit. And he doesn't believe her because, duh, most Catholics don't even believe that shit.

I had recently heard a priest confidently proclaim that the Bible's words on such phenomena were never meant to be interpreted literally; he had historical evidence that incidents involving spirits were merely metaphors for tangible events.

MOE: But he wants to believe her because he feels guilty for not fucking her.



MEGAN: He left the room in the middle of a conversation. No wonder she felt unloved. The thing women want 90% of the time is for a dude to not only listen but fucking hear. Like, it's not just good enough to nod.

MEGAN: Right, I mean, as long as he wanted her to be happy and asked God and shit, everything should've been okay. What a selfish bitch, wanting human interaction rather than a deep and meaningful relationship with God.
MOE: So anyway, a few weeks pass and she's about to have an operation and they're all gonna pray on it etc. etc. etc. when it is revealed that Susan only wants sex with Bobby because SHE IS POSSESSED BY THE DEVIL.



MEGAN: Well, I would doubt that he has the capacity to express feeling, is that the same thing?
MOE: I love this sooooo so much.
MOE: Okay so at this point we should also point out that they had been smelling the sulphuric odor of the devil in Susan's dormroom but didn't think too much of it. Anyway, so she's writing on the floor and they're all trying to exorcise her, and for a brief beautiful moment Jindal loses his faith in Christ. And then Susan runs for the door and only Alice feels like chasing her.
MOE: It is at this moment that Jindal begins questioning his misogyny!
MEGAN: Also, why the fuck did no one think to call, like, a motherfucking ambulance?
MEGAN: Girl's got a tumor on her head, starts seizing and speaking in voices and no one goes, um, doctor? They all go running for a fucking pastor for an exorcism.




MEGAN: I dunno, I think Hail Marys are easier to remember than, like, the Nicene Creed. It's also short.
MOE: So then after Mary intercedes they hang the Crucifix over her head and this has an allegedly "calming effect."

Susan stayed in the house of a missionary with experience in spiritual warfare in foreign countries. Her sister thought it best she stay out of her own room. Susan's roommate, the daughter of a Hmong faith healer, had decorated the room with supposedly pagan influences. Other theories explaining the night's events soon surfaced. Susan's mother had once worshipped and offered a sacrifice at a pagan altar in the Far East for her husband's health, though he had been healed, she had been warned not to repeat such practices, but had returned to that same altar in the Far East upon hearing of Susan's illness. The UCF staff member dismissed Susan's affliction as a psychological disorder, precipitated by the semester's stress, and advised her to seek professional help. Susan, who had experienced visions and other related phenomena as a child, thought her intense flirting with guys and straying away from God had led to this punishment.

MEGAN: "Intense flirting" = demonic possession? Well, I mean, I have to say that would be a pretty handy explanation for my dating patterns. It's not that I'm fucked up or stupid, I'm possessed by the devil.
MOE: Anyway I'm just glad to know we have found a potential vice president who can face down Satan.
MOE: He can exorcise the White House. Lord knows they could use it.