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Befouled Anniversaries and Real Ghosts 

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The author reporting from Morehead, Kentucky, deep in research while on the road.

A woman asked if we can impeach President "Take Credit?" Obama somewhere in Utah, on another AM radio show almost as fair and balanced as NPR. And, as the host fumbled for a response, something about impeachment enraging and maybe motivating Democrat voters so close to the midterms, that's when the station faded. Then Christ spoke to me, a voice deep yet gentle, filling the Midwest with prayers and peace. And venom and toxic fear, homophobia so deep that only an early-teen experience could explain.

You have to search for such souls and driving across America this week has revealed our crackpots and cankers. Glenn "Am I a prophet? Just askin'" Beck brought a parade of deluded sheep to D.C. for a "Restoring Honor" event intended to "turn [America] back to God" - a moment forever remembered as "The Honky Hug-In." Between 7,000 and 40 million attended (according to police crowd-control experts or FOXNews).

Trouble is, Beck is a Mormon, so he believes whatever Joseph Smith dug up while sh*tting in the woods of Upstate New York. You need special glasses to read the tablets Smith "discovered" then "lost" some 180 years ago (just as functional illiteracy is a requirement to listen to talk radio), yet Beck's baptism being held on the 47th anniversary of Martin Luther King's "I Have A Dream" speech on the exact same site seemed to ire African-Americans for some reason. Not in the Rodney King way but, rather, a form of pity for this pathetic puppet of the GOP and Beelzebub, aka Rupert Murdoch.

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"You can't blame Glenn Beck for his 'March on Washington' envy," offered a sympathetic Rep. Eleanor Holmes Norton, who happens to be very Democrat, bald and black, "Too bad he doesn't have a message to match the place or that is worthy of the march." NOTE: This column will never quote Rev. Al "Suit or Sweats?" Sharpton or Jesse "X" Jackson, so please seek their blather elsewhere.

Meanwhile, Obama was busy creating an anniversary we'll forever rue: The end of our military mission in Iraq (cue the private contractors and mercenaries). No "Mission Accomplished" aircraft carrier crotch-shot like Bush but, rather, solemn and sad, befitting the arrival of the tab after a bender. With housing sales in the outhouse yet consumers increasing their spending, this is a sublime moment. Somewhere Nero is fiddling, Beck is off in the wilderness of AM radio masturbating, Dems apologizing and the GOP drooling.

Not in attendance at any of these events, due to dishonoring yet another anniversary, were a dozen "amateur ghost watchers" who were hoping to hear screeching wheels, screaming passengers and a phantom train crashing near Statesville, N.C. It happens each year and this was the 119th anniversary of the Bostian Bridge train tragedy (which killed 30). Instead, they had to sprint across the 300-foot span for their lives (two not so fast or lucky) when a real Norfolk-Southern train came down the tracks. Seriously, I can't pull a Cheney and make this sh*t up: Republicans are co-opting the anniversary of having dreams, Obama's shovel is busted from cleaning up after Bush, and "amateur ghost watchers" are thankful to be alive.

Driving 3,200 miles in five days will make one check things often, the time and his/her stash most of all, as flashing lights along I-80 revealed four emo punks on the side of the road laughing as their best pal sat inside the squad car. Paris "Who Me?" Hilton should take note, as her near-arrest for marijuana possession (then immediate selling-out of a "friend") during the World Cup last month was a lesson unlearned. Hilton was again arrested on Saturday when her Cadillac Escalade was pulled over in Las Vegas after police smelled something dank. No, it wasn't Hilton but some chronic, which led the police to find cocaine in the vehicle. Unlike the rest of us, Hilton was released within hours.

Speaking of drugs, the NFL is kicking-off the season so here's my picks (too many puns but anyway): The Ravens will win the Super Bowl, the Cowboys won't when Tony Romo is outed as Czech woman; Donovan McNabb and/or Brett Favre will die by midseason and a certain Buffalo running back with initials and the letter "S" will bring back glory to the Bills. Not O.J. but C.J. Spiller. To all the other losers, you should have learned not to bet after buying your former home.

So what's the lesson this week? Never invade the wrong country. Trust Mormons only slightly more than Scientologists. Eli Manning bleeds Giants blue. And that light at the end of the tunnel may be a train. Run or jump? Try prayer, it seems to work in politics.

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