Obama's Sponsor, the Father of Lies, Takes on Mary as He Sees End Coming
Obama, my useful son:
I love your elegant use of misleading words to fool the sheep. My followers yucked it up as they watched your speech before Congress and elsewhere. There were so many idiots in the various places that the cull is bound to be fruitful. My followers were literally drooling in anticipation of their arrival. I am happy with your results, but there are problems on the horizon.
Don't worry. It's just a Virgin who has been kicking up dust for the last century. I would take down the YouTube on this page. It is too logical and explicit and might play into Her hands. She too has allies.
Soon, Obama, soon: those whom you prepare for my victory will be incorporated into my sovereign land, down under. Like you, they, too, shall share in the everlasting rewards of the Revolution. Your newly enlisted followers can only guess at the timeless gifts I have prepared for them. I will relish looking into their faces as I dish out their rewards. They will be surprised.
I just called in my Legions from around the world to discuss your admirable qualities. Most importantly, you have the ability to morph into a fair angel as the dupes rapaciously devour your wonderfully profane lies. The idea of transparency was outstanding. Transparent avoidance! That is deliciously mean. The meaner the better. Remember, we want believers to lose faith. They need to see life as smoke and mirrors. The more suicides the better.
Smoke and mirrors are especially utilitarian, my boy. Smoke obscures and mirrors blind one to realities, like those in an amusement park. You have demonstrated, in Deception 101, the art of indifference, diversion (lying), passivity, as in passive-aggressive, and warfare all rolled into one. My One-World Order followers at the U.N. love you for these qualities.
You have honed the art of smiling with shinning eyes to near perfection. Be careful though, at times you smile just before you are about to lie. I was riled when that Congressman nearly blew your cover. You know, the one that called you what you are, sweet boy: a Liar. You do take after me, but you must be careful and be specific when you want to make scapegoats and pass on red herrings. Time is running out.
I have an, um, uneasy sense that He, the Father of all, is sporting for a fight as I successfully claim my cull. You must continue to act swiftly for change, son. I am running out of time. I need to totally destroy the Church that he formed and with it your adopted country. I am a tad concerned that the Christ part of Him meant what He said when he told Peter that my dominion would not prevail. But He didn't say I would lose outright. If I can take billions of souls from Him, I will be maliciously happy.
My spies tell me that He, the Triune One, has given that syrupy-sweet Virgin an order to end my reign. She looks different these days. Her appearance is changing as She warns those (puke) Catholics who believe everything Her Christ said. Don't discount Her, son. The Mighty One has given Her an assignment to chain me. I know Him. Power goes along with assignments. I have successfully diminished Her but She is clever. The Triune One has seen to it.
Women! Right from the beginning, She has given me trouble. First, She appeared with that damnedable Scapular and the Rosary to sign believers as His protected soldiers. Culling Scapular-wearing, rosary-loving souls has been a challenge. Fortunately there are only few of them. I've culled; I mean enlisted, more independent-minded souls, who cared little about that bothersome Virgin.
I digress: we jumped on hot coals with jackal-like joy when my representative faux priest at, Notre Dame, had the rosary dissenters arrested, including, faith filled priests (puke). You adroitly blinded my future carrion with your smoke and mirrors speech that evening.
Back to the Virgin: after playing Betty-do-good, She got sad, warning Her Son's troops that they had to become Penitents. She was uppity that time and had the audacity to override me and announced to the world that from conception on, She was born and remains Immaculate, free of the stain of sin. That ticked me off, and I saw to it that there was plenty of dissension around that incident.
Waa, waa! Always sticking Her nose in my business, She appeared in Mexico in an effort to save the poor souls from Montezuma's vengeance. Too bad She didn't succeed. Her Latino children were the ones to whom you owe much of your success. We both laughed ourselves sick (liking S & M) with that victory. My cull within the Barrios and Ghettos in 2008 was a stupendous event in Hell.
Generally the Virgin is sad or crying, but something has changed.
In anticipation of these times, the Virgin has pulled out a Hail Mary play during my last quarter. Obama, my son, almost four-hundred years ago, She ordered an image to be made. Think of it! Nearly Four hundred years ago, Obama! Do you know what that means? She had a plan: no, HE had a plan. Argh!
Despicably deceptive, they chose a Podunk place like Quito, Ecuador, and let me kill off Garcia Moreno, a Catholic President, so that I would think I won. I did, I know I did. Those parades in Her honor were just the silly meanderings of a simple people who don't know better. Uh, don't repeat that, son. Forget I said it, or you might slip up in one of your unscripted moments.
She isn't looking helpless or sad in Her image and, if names mean anything, She has the audacity to go by the name of, Our Lady of Good Success. My sources say that She looks formidable, all five-foot nine inches of Her. What worries me is that the Creator's, Quito, covert operation was kept from view, including my own, until the end of the twentieth century.
My underlings in the Vatican goofed, big time. While they were killing the message of Fatima, there was an older one that spelled out my covert operations against the One true Church. Those blasted Rosary-saying Catholics and their Scapulars!
Listen son: keep on calling white, black and black, white. Push the race thing and keep on with division. We don't want rosaries being said. We need those baby parts. Rosaries defeated me at Lepanto and Hiroshima and elsewhere. I hate those those blasted beads. We want 100% don't we? Remember, son, I always take care of those that do my bidding. Give everyone my best wishes.
Your Lying Father,
P.S. Tell that Rosary-saying old bag that writes this blog to knock it off.