Drill, baby drill!

Rudy Giulani leaned nonchalantly on the podium, one hand on his hip. A pleased smirk graced his lips as the crowd of cowboy-hat donning, overweight moguls continued to chant.

“Drill baby drill! Drill baby drill! Drill baby drill!”

Their mantra echoed throughout the stadium, the words drifting lazily up through an atmosphere made hazy by the fog of shared shortsightedness. A spattering of poorly made signs littered the audience, with phrases such as “F*@% ANWR!” And “WE HEART OIL!” proudly proclaiming their holders’ views.

Rudy was clearly pleased with himself. He continued to smirk, a small chuckle escaping his thin lips, the spotlights glinting off his crisp red tie. He raised his both his arms and tried to shush the crowd, but the audience refused to listen. After a few more moments, their cries of “Drill baby drill!” began to sound labored as their beer-bellies trembled under the exertion of raising their voice. The chanting gradually turned to muttering and heavy breathing, as Rudy began to speak again.

He waved an arm here, there, and mimed shooing the “elite liberal media” off the podium. He winked and pointed at a loyal supporter in the front row. He crooned and he cried out against the tyranny oppressing the billion-dollar corporations in America, he roared about the damned Islamic Terrorists that brought down his beloved towers 8 years earlier, and how victory against an unnamed “ENEMY” was nigh. He showered the GOP’s Vice Presidential nominee with accolades and praised the former Miss Congeniality for her skillful mayoring of Wasilla, AK and for fearlessly letting the Federal Government mobilize her state’s 4,200 national guard troops.

Camera crews panned the crowd, showcasing an audience filled with passionate conservatives pumping fists and snarling aloud their distaste for terrorists and elitists and fiscal irresponsibilitists. Yes, a few in the audience shot nervous glances to their neighbors after obvious falsehoods were spluttered by their fearless orator—Iraq was not responsible for the 9/11 attacks, the economy is not currently “prosperous,” and the VP nominee championed more flagrant pork-barrel spending for Alaskans instead of lobbying against it. And yes, in fact there were sections of conspicuously empty seating in the arena. But the cameras quickly moved away from the nervous fidgeters and cut away from the empty seats to return to the chanting masses.

Rudy gradually wound down his speech, emitting another chuckle as he placed both his hands on the podium and surveyed the crowd’s reaction. It was a good day, a proud day. And on this proud day, standing in front of a projected backdrop of the Twin Cities, the facts weren’t important. Not to Rudy, the sign-wavers, nor the cheering masses. What was important was that today, a dynamic new Vice Presidential candidate would be thrust onto the scene and welcomed with pumping fists, showers of campaign donations, and Google-searches for “hot sarah palin pageant photos.”

The best was yet to come. Rudy knew it, Sarah knew it, and the crowd knew it. And they were going to drill, baby, drill for 8 more years.