The Colbert Redemption

Washington, DC is the best place in the world to learn about politics, I would venture to say. I have seen and heard many stories, theories, and ideas about how government operates, mostly coming from real participants in the process, and not just ones who've studied. My greatest educator here has been Stephen Colbert. One night here, the TV was on, and the Colbert Report began. Pavol and I turned our attention to it, and actually found it to be quite funny. I'd seen it before, but something made me appreciate it more now. Well, anyway, watching it has now become a nightly ritual (well, four nights a week, at least). I don't even know the last time I actually had a TV show that I made a point of watching regularly. I really don't even watch when I'm at college. But we do make an exception for Colbert. He's worth it.
I've been figuring out my summer situation (as mentioned in a previous post), and after hearing Stephen make some intern joke on his show, the thought of working there sounded really fun to me. So, I've sent them a letter and resume. Let's hope it works, and they'll pay some money, too. I'm not really counting on getting it, but why not just throw in my hat? Here's my letter (to be read with a healthy dose of sarcasm):

Dear MTV Networks,

Two years ago I started college, and it didn’t take long for the atheist pinko indoctrination process to work its evil magic on me. I began to question many of the basic principles that I’d always lived my life according to, such as that George W. Bush is our greatest president, and that McDonald’s food is healthy. I began to think of Arbor Day and Kwanzaa as more important than the Superbowl. Worst of all, I started to believe what they said about television. I began to see TV as a waste of time, and the shows on it which used to entertain me no longer did. I realize now this was all part of their brainwashing, but, in a way, those tweed-wearing tree-hugging Soviet-sucking worthless bastards were right: TV had lost something.

Primetime network channels had begun to air gameshows like “The Weakest Link,” with that carrot-topped cronish Brit barking insults at the contestants. The noble place once held by television dramas was taken over by “reality shows,” such as “Are You Hot?”, “Big Brother,” and the Anna Nicole Show (God rest her soul). On top of this vacuum of intelligence, I began to perceive that all of the news channels were trying to turn me into another mindless Orwellian drone, spoon-feeding me cooked-up, irrelevant garbage about schemes like “the situation in Iraq” and “the election” and expecting me to believe it without ever thinking twice. Every time I turned on the TV, all I saw was bland fact after bland fact, twenty-four stultifying hours a day.

I gave up on TV, my childhood love, and had to look elsewhere for answers. My life became full of studying, reading books, playing guitar, and talking to other people. In short, I was lost and alone; my life was empty and worthless.

One dark day, as I was standing in line to buy twenty boxes of sleeping pills, a blinding, radiant light shone down upon me, not from heaven, but from the face of Stephen Colbert on the TV screen behind the counter. In a moment, I was born anew in truth. With his words, he held me upside down and spanked the feeling back into me. The umbilical cord of mainstream media information was severed, and the placenta of the stagnant and repulsive ideas of the past was thrown away forever.

Stephen Colbert came into my life when I most needed it, when no one else would. He reached out his hand and said to me, “It’s okay, I’m right. You can trust me.” Once I accepted this, it was clear: he was right all along. I now feel more informed about our country and the world than anyone else I know. As a sign of dedication to the most trustworthy human being alive, I am getting a life-size tattoo of Mr. Colbert wearing a suit, all over my body. It will be done in 2013.

Stephen Colbert is a hero, plain and simple. In today’s world of strict factual reporting, Mr. Colbert is a shining beacon of interpretation of truth. When the terrorist-loving liberal media tromps out their “no-spin” version of the truth, Mr. Colbert is the first and only to take what they say and spin it right back the way it’s supposed to be. The way God made it. When Mr. Colbert speaks, great things happen. Trumpets play. Flags wave. Eagles soar. Democrats piss their pants. America, as a whole, smiles. I believe Mr. Colbert deserves to be called the New Father of our Country, for while Christopher Columbus founded this country in the name of freedom, Mr. Colbert saved it in the name of liberty.

It is with all this in mind that I humbly request the honor of serving as an intern on Mr. Colbert’s staff for the summer season of 2007. Just to hear his voice in person would make me retch in excitement. I want to be close to him, to be inundated with truthiness, to stand in the presence of the most Lincolnish man since George Washington himself. I want to touch the hem of his garment. If I could die having once spoken to Mr. Colbert, even just to say “how many copies do you need?” or “another cup of coffee, sir?”, I would consider my life complete.

Truthfully,

Matt Brandenburgh