Any overeducated, Prius-driving, lefty cultural elitist worth his daily $10 coffee drink knows that America spent eight catastrophic years in the grip of a wicked puppet named W. The privileged faux-Texan flaunted his village idiocy, not caring whether people knew his strings were really pulled by Dick Cheney, the real-life Mr. Burns. We’re here to tell you, fellow San Franciscans, that another wicked puppet is racing toward the White House, and he comes from our own ranks. His name is Blinky Winky. This puppet — sorry, marionette — stands about 2 feet high and looks like something from a Stephen King nightmare, his icy stare a disturbing, multicolored mixture of menace and uncaring. Mr. Winky ran for mayor last year but didn’t make much of a showing. Now he appeals to our basest urges, hoping that we’ll propel him to Washington. “His mind reflects the most powerful forces of America,” say his backers, “hedonistic love of sugar and power.” Those backers are the four women who make up Circus... More >>>