Now we know that we have challenges. There are caves full of bats out there and a league of vampires ready to chase us out of our homes the minute we let our guard down. That's why we need a strong leader, one unafraid to tackle the challenges of the 20th century with grit, wisdom, and, when no other option remains, military force.
That man is John McCain. Folks, I'd like to tell you the remarkable story of John McCain, a man who has served this country like no other.
When his Vietnamese captors hung him upside-down by his ankles and spun him around until he was really dizzy, John McCain did not give in. Instead he learned to harness those centrifugal forces to mix cement in his stomach. At night, while his captors slept, he would evacuate that cement and use it to reinforce the foundation of his tiny, filthy cage.
That cage was his home for five years, but it wasn't where his heart was. The Vietcong poked and prodded him, I understand. They deprived him of sleep, water, and human contact. When he did manage to sleep, it was on a giant pile of waste. He was hounded incessantly by gigantic ants the size of Tennessee golf balls and drifted in and out of consciousness.
I'm told they even got a really large Vietcong to eat a big thing of chili and then belch into a jar. Folks, they forced John McCain to open that jar and it was like that one really fat VC belched right in his face.
They tried everything to break this man. When they forced him to marry a goat, he said his vows proudly and made a loving husband. When they later killed that goat in front of him, he laughed because his heart could never truly love a goat.
The Vietnamese had a name for him. They called him John McCain, which is also what we call him.
During his time in captivity, John McCain did not betray America, though he did give up the names of the Green Bay Packers. Later .. the entire team was crushed beneath an avalanche of logs that rolled down a hill, John McCain blamed himself. To the surprise of his captors, he decided then and there to stay a POW longer, to serve out a self-imposed sentence on behalf of America and the National Football League.
They tortured him endlessly. They would rub poison ivy on him, then put a cone around his neck so that as much as he wanted to and as bad as it itched, he could not gnaw on his rump for relief. Once they got together and peed in a jug, then left that jug in a place where John McCain would trip over it and get urine on his pant legs. John McCain endured, rump itching and legs stained with urine, because he knew no other way as an American.
Later when they convinced John McCain that every Vietcong had the power to manifest a giant demon twin, he was careful not to anger any of them. He did what he was told, as long as he was not asked to give up vital American secrets. They got that same fat VC from earlier to dress up like a demon, and then they made it look like he popped out from behind a smaller VC. When that big fake demon twin hollered and chased John McCain around, he gave up in his pants, but he did not give up on America.
The Vietcong were cruel and relentless, sparing John McCain no indignity. When they trained him to salivate at the sound of a bell, he snuck out of his cage at night and disabled all their bells, lest he risk dehydration from excessive salivation, a fate that had doomed many POWs.
They took to putting sand in his underwear every day, which caused a lot of chaffing and made it difficult for John to move around. Eventually he developed an immunity to sand. There's a lot of folks saying McCain is too old and that he is in failing health, I believe. But doctors say it is impossible to kill John McCain with sand. Literally impossible. That's no small potato if you ask me.
When the Vietcong hacked off John McCain's hands and then reattached them to the wrong arms, he learned to be ambidextrous. When that didn't help due to the fact his hands were backwards, he learned to whistle with perfect pitch and moved his captors to tears with soulful ballads. By the time they put his hands back on the proper arms, he had already adapted, learning instead to walk on his feet. John McCain knew his hands were an unneeded luxury. Today he seldom ever uses them except to deliver a thumbs up to America.
For 300 horrifying years, the Vietcong artificially prolonged John McCain's life until everyone he knew and loved was dead. John McCain never gave up and used his unwavering commitment to America and the sun's gravity to slingshot back in time so that he could serve out the remainder of his captivity.
The Vietcong realized they were powerless against John McCain. Here was a man who would not betray his country no matter how badly they tortured him. So, knowing that they could not win, they released him. But even this was part of a clever ploy, for they released him into an elaborate virtual reality simulation of real life, where virtual reality replicas of his friends asked him to give up vital American intelligence. John McCain resisted. Realizing the ruse, he punched through an invisible wall and emerged inside a high-tech Vietcong control room, shocking his captors and catching them off guard.
To this very day his Vietnamese tormentors still try to recapture him, to put him back in that prison - the Hanoi Hilton - but John McCain fights them off at every turn. He eludes their crafty traps, dodges their poison-tipped darts, and has learned to walk silently and leave no trail. For decades he has lived on the run, honing his body into the ultimate weapon.
Now I don't know what kind of tortures Barack Obama has endured, but I do know that Barack Obama is no John McCain, because if he was John McCain, he sure wouldn't be Barack Obama. And that's something you can take to the bank.
Folks, I know that being a POW doesn't make you qualified to be president. For one thing, no prisoner should ever serve as the leader of the free world. It sets a bad example. But being an ex-POW, especially one as bold and determined as John McCain, sure does make you qualified. Come November, we have a choice. We can choose a man with little experience, or a man who survived the kind of experience that would break any sane man.