Clearing Up Some Confusion: Evil & Stupidity

As a major figure on the evil scene, I get a lot of questions, from people looking to break into the business (stay in school, kids) and from the merely curious. One of the stranger misconceptions I've encountered is this notion that stupid people are easier to manipulate than the sharpies.

Au contraire. The smart ones are a cinch to swing. Intelligent people can usually be bribed, and they're masters at rationalization. Even when they know something's evil, they will usually talk themselves into it, given appropriate encouragement. It's the dummies that really give me headaches.

Case in point: your beloved President Bush.

When I first started hearing whispers that Bush would be the next Republican candidate for president - back when he was still governor of Texas - we decided to get to work on him so that, if elected, I'd have my very own stooge right there in the Oval Office. (We already had Cheney, of course, but with the heart attacks and the hushed-up airplane hissy fits, I didn't think we could count on him to be around forever.) But none of the usual inducements worked.

We tried everything: bribery, sex, drugs, honorary degrees. The suitcase full of money became a squadron of misshapen paper airplanes. The naughty librarians we sent to the governor's mansion returned with bruises and broken fingernails: George had no experience with the naughty librarian type, but Laura knew them by their girlish hips and musty scents and so flailed them mercilessly with a yardstick. Quietly.

I was at my wit's end until I consulted with Jerome over in IT. Jerome had been itching to try out some new gadgetry, and suggested we exploit the Guv's religious beliefs, which he was always blathering about even then. So we broke into the mansion and installed a tiny holographic projector, some fiber optic monitoring cameras, and some speakers. The plan was to recruit a Jesus lookalike - in this case Merv Timmins from Covert Ops - and to project the J-Man into Bush's office when no one else was around.

Jackpot. But not at first:

"Obi-Wan," Bush cried, clapping his hands and hopping about delightedly when the wavering image of "Jesus" first appeared to him.

"You idiot," Merv replied, a disembodied voice in the speakers. "I'm Jesus, your Savior. You know, Son of God, died for your sins, etcetera?"

Bush looked confused. "I pictured you taller," he said, sounding disappointed.

"Never mind that," Merv said. "Are you my servant or not?"

"Of course," Bush said, not wanting to piss off the Messiah. Then, eagerly: "Whaddaya want me to do? Execute more racial minorities? Cut taxes? Sacrifice Jenna to our wrathful father? Just say the word."

"Not today," Merv replied. "Today the man upstairs has more pressing business...."

Bush talks to "Jesus" every day now, and trusts this, um, spiritual guidance on all matters of concern to Dark Genius. The only complication so far has been Merv, who's been threatening to tell the President that God has recanted his old-fashioned position on masturbation if "Jesus" doesn't get a hefty raise. Merv's a chiseler, but not as smart as he thinks he is. That's a Rose Garden revelation I would relish, if only for the moralistic sputtering that would follow.