Jeb Bush and the Satanic vampire

A self-proclaimed "Satanic Dark Priest" named Jonathan "the Impaler" Sharkey is an official candidate for governor of Minnesota. He's running on an anti-crime platform:

Sharkey also pledged to execute convicted murders and child molesters personally by impaling them on a wooden pole outside the state capitol.

Sharkey told the Minneapolis Star Tribune that he's a vampire "just like you see in the movies and TV."

"I sink my fangs into the neck of my donor...and drink their blood," he said, adding that his donor is his wife, Julie.

I wonder if she wears a scarf to campaign events?

(Actually, most real-life blood aficionados don't partake from the neck. Don't ask me how I know this.)

Of course, many an election has attracted "fringe" candidates -- we had a boatload of 'em during the California recall -- but the Impaler has a genuinely interesting history as a Republican activist. According to his official site...

From 1988 to 1991, I was heavily active in the Union County Republican Party, and was elected a District Chairman.

From July 1992 until April 1996, I was very active in Hillsborough County (FL) Republican Party. I was elected as City Chairman for Temple Terrace in November 1992. In 1994, I was blessed to work on Jeb Bush's first campaign for Governor. Though Jeb did not win, he showed me the true meaning of a man of character.

Jeb Bush. Man of Character. Boy, those Satanists really do love to talk backwards.

This page allegedly shows Jeb Bush posing with the Impaler, along with a couple of paintings from hell. In an autobiographical piece on his turn to "the Dark Side," the Impaler refers to his former friendship with both Jeb and -- get this! -- George W. Bush, our current prez.

I can just picture W's mumbled reaction when he saw that web-page: "Ixnay on the end-fray, Jonny-boy..."

Before you become too worried about the Impaler, I should tell you that he once did a tour as a professional wrestler. The idea of a former wrestler becoming a governor is too absurd to contemplate.

My attempts to get responses from Garrison Keillor and Al Franken went unanswered. They were not in the room when I called out their names.

(Incidentally, I first learned of this oddity via the Covert History site.)