This is the season of the Elder Gods, when blood shall fall like rain and the souls of humanity shall quiver and melt like rendered fat. Lo! These are the Dark Times, the Cold Times, the Election Times!!!
Choose, mortals, for the Great Old Ones hunger for your vote, your support, and your endless sowing of strife and discord. Ye, verily, they are not assuaged! Their hunger has not been sated! Ia! Ia! Dubya fthagn!
The Elder Gods lie dead but still dreaming, and they are drunk on great droughts of your emotional energy. Cast your lot. Cast it! Cast is now! Now! Now! Now! Now! Now! Now! Now! Now!
Now!
Now!!!
The Elder Gods are unhappy with your devotion during this, the Most Important of Most Importants, until four years from now. Ia! Ia! They who must not be named look forward to months of more fighting, and the gnashing of teeth, and the wailing of women and the anger of men! The Elder Gods promise a tidal wave of roiling blood and TV spots, from now until the end of Time! Yea, unto you they have affixed the great demons Status Quo and Business as Usual! They have set their phantasms of Hopechange and Honorintegrity upon you, yea, verily, to vex thee unto a frothing madness!
And they are not content, they are not assuaged, they hunger still! Those Who Dwell Beyond Death demand your obeisance! Not until brother is rent asunder from brother, and mother from child, and fisherman from The One That Got Away, shall They count their plans as having even begun! They demand that you fight for their pleasure, from now until the Earth is but a burnt cinder in the caress of the Great God Nova! Ia! Ia! Partisan fthagn!
Not until man-ape fights man-ape, and all are torn apart by their One True Ways, shall their anger begin to be quenched. Not until all feel compelled to point out that those people, the others, are wrong and bad and stupid and corrupt and probably racists too, shall Their wrath even begin to be satiated! Ia! Ia! Pancakebreakfast fthagn!
For theirs is the terror and the incessant drone of 10,00 soundbytes carried on black, cyclopean wings whose geometry is non-euclidean! From now until the end of Time, or until Britney does something really outrageous again!
Ayiaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!