Below is an essay I wrote some years ago. I originally posted it on a website and got some outcry from Keillor fans. Seeing him on John Stewart last night made me recall this:
Here we find a photo of one of the most popular, powerful, and dangerous retards in the United States. This man, with his smugly self-confidant mutant grin and his folksy but pretentious mental-floss monologues, single-handedly controls his own many-armed political machine, and the consumer appetite of legions of his genetically-botched followers. Lake Woebegone is an asylum for Keillor’s zombieoid pancake-heads who, because of their inbred nature, can’t tell the difference between the true messiah and a three-hole blow-up doll.
Each week, broadcasting from his virtual small-town utopia "cleverly" named "Woebegone," Keillor leaks his insidious drivel to his legions of Volvo-driving tofu-eating chuckle-heads who believe him to be in possession of some arcane wisdom about the American Condition.
Unfortunately, what they fail to realize is the inherent danger in Keillor’s doublespeak. With his nudge/wink reverence for the "simple life" he laughs at the very lifestyle he appears to be embracing. Aren’t the simple, unenlightened, country-folk sweet? Isn’t it fun to play like we’re peasants, when in fact we’re the landed gentry? Our Ivy League stature allows us to safely dabble in the bucolic depravity of the Common Man.
I pity them all for not realizing their true tard-nature.
His attitude becomes all the more alarming when placed into context with his little-known background. Keillor, though he cleverly portrays the image of an educated mid-west country gentleman, is actually the product of six generations of ritual abuse. He suffered twenty-six years of dirt-eating and buggering in the name of family "pride" and "historical tradition." He and his seventeen brothers and sisters were kept in a secret crawl-space under the "ancestral home" until 1978, when he and his mutant brethren (all the offspring of a young mongoloid man-child and his blind, spastic, subnormal sister) managed to escape undetected by Burl—the patriarch. It was during this formative period that Keillor (actually a rare Type IV Waxworm Cretinoid) managed to develop his defense mechanisms to the extreme levels that we now find weekly on his radio program "Prairie Home Companion." The "Prairie Home" being a not-so-subtle moniker/symbol for his own "ancestral home," where he learned to be the pernicious pedophile he is today. (This information will not likely appear on A&E’s Biography.)
Over the years, his psychological deviance has developed from simple forms of man-child ogling, into a form of full-fledged psyonic mind control. His "folksy poetry" diatribe flows out over the airwaves every week, like an egocentric shitstorm of psychic diarrhea, inundating and befuddling the already putrified minds of his followers. We see much of this same self-deprecating doublespeak in his numerous "Woebegone" books, which some putty-heads seem to find humorous and quaint.
It is no coincidence that Keilor bears the same glazed-over, blissfully discombobulated look on his face as many a tard who’s risen to the top of the tower of public adoration, only to fall, drunk with his own power, and land on his own hydrocephalic noggin. (Jimmy Swagghart, Gary Coleman, Martha Stewart, King Kong Bundy, et. al.)
Heed this warning! I know full well that this pup will squirm in the end. Beware of this dangerous man, for the only thing more dangerous than a wounded hyena is a fallen cretinoid with his own radio show.
Sincerely,
Carl Braunschweiger
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