The jordon Prophesies Prove True!
By Mike Naimark
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It was all true.
The dire predictions foretold by the the explosive theological text, "THE jordon
PROPHECIES", did indeed come to fruition. Can there be any doubt as to the veracity
of this divinely inspired work? Dare anyone discount this incontravertable proof of the
black hand of Satan in our very midst?
Yea, "THE jordon PROPHECIES" made a mockery of their detractors and successfully
foretold future events with an accuracy that puts any other religious or theological
treatise to shame. Viewed in their entirety
(http://bme.utmem.edu/~circlab/mikeweb/mikester/MMR.htm), these prophecies amount to
nothing less than a grevious warning to all of mankind about the malevolent machinations
of Earth's most renowned pawn of Satan, the craven Bull Lord, Michael jordon. jordon, the
false idol of millions of children and simpletons worldwide, the slavering sycophant of
the Devil himself, the man whose very name is synonymous with egoism and avarice.
jordon. Speak his name in hushed whispers. Spit upon his image.
The final verses of "THE jordon PROPHECIES" foretold that, upon winning his 6th
and least deserved NBA title, Wicked jordon would launch a scheme to destroy the very NBA
which gave him prominance, en route to the eventual destruction of mankind and humanity by
legions of Satan's star-struck jordonites and like-minded fiends. We all know that
following jordon's "push watched round the world" and 6th title victory, David
Falk, agent of greed and, coincidently, jordon, exerted his influence over his cash-drunk
clients and forced the NBA season to be halted before it even began. Inspired by
their selfish desires to "Be Like Mike", these high-profile players eagerly trod
upon the desires of hundreds of their lesser-paid teamates and demanded the right to
unlimited, jordon-esque salaries. The season was halted. Stadiums stood empty. Peanut
vendors, hot dog salemen, parking lot attendants; all went unpaid.
Somewhere, the wicked jordon took a break from pulling the strings of Falk and his
brainwashed charges, and laughed. A dark, ominous, malevolent laugh of the damned. For
surely, jordon was serving his master well. The end times were close indeed.
Spurned onwards by the incessant wheedling of jordon and his minions, the demands and
desires of the players grew ever more outlandish. No salary cap should confine their
greed. No mere league flunky should curtail their behavior. In a spat of forthright
selfishness, the players agreed to hold an exhibition, with proceeds directed to
'underprivledged' players in a league where the average salary exceeded $2 million per
year. There was talk of Falk and his squad of dimwitted NBA goons forming their own,
non-NBA league, to accomidate the desires of the elite for unlimited earnings.
The smell of brimstone was palpable. Hurricanes ravaged the seas. jordon stayed behind the
scenes, relishing in the anticipated fruits of his efforts.
And yet, when all seemed darkest, when the choking grasp of jordon seemed tightly clenched
around the trachea of a league which had grown fat on the selfless efforts of Larry Bird,
Magic Johnson, Oscar Robertson, Bill Russell, and Wilt Chamberlain, a miracle occured.
Nothing less than a
miracle.
The hypnotic gaze of jordon lost its hold on the vast majority of NBA players, those
confined to the ranks of mere 'basketball players', unable to demand the lofty concessions
of the 'NBA Superstars' like jordon and his ilk. Voices of dissention arose, hesitantly at
first, soon to be joined by others as jordon's Dark Jordi mind-control began to falter.
"We were happy with the current deal", they meekly offered. "We just want
to play basketball, the sport we love. Had we wanted to roll in ill-gotten money, we could
have gone to law school."
jordon's pawns quickly moved to smite such infidels, but it was too late. Billy
Hunter's protestations fell of increasingly deafened ears as the days ticked past. The
desires of the super-rich elite no longer held sway with the 'working class' rich of the
NBA. As the torrent of protest swelled to deafening levels, jordon fled the country to
commune with his 'boss'; not Billy Hunter, or David Stern, or Phil Jackson, or Jerry
Krause. Surely only a direct meeting with jordon's true idol and role model, the foul
Lucifer himself, would reawaken the demonic powers that lurked within jordon's murky soul.
But jordon's ego was to be his undoing yet again. For while jordon certainly knows few
peers in his role as a deceiver, conning innoncent basketball fans into supporting the
sham of his greatness, Satan remains the greatest deveiver of mankind. As the unwashed NBA
masses grew strong in their voice and convictions, jordon sought solice in the sulfurous
arms of his master, but it was not to be.
The hour was late, but even the Devil himself was forced to realize that his favorite son,
the Evil jordon, was ultimately an inept bumbler, as incompetent in his role as a defiler
and leader as he was deciphering the intricies of playing NBA defense. Despite all the
hellspawned favors bestowed on Wicked jordon, he was unable to bring Satan's plans to
fruition for no other reason than his own foolish ways. As Satan had done so many times
throughout human history, he grew disgusted with the frailties of his human pawn, and so
he discarded him.
Foul jordon, a man whose entire basketball career, beginning with his high school varsity
team, was predicated on his pact with Lucifer, suddenly found himself cut loose from the
tugboat that had dragged his self-worshiping carcass and bloated ego to fame and glory for
more than a decade. Alone and with only his mountains of ill-gained money to comfort him,
jordon looked in the mirror and was disgusted with the pathetic, cowering lie than gazed
back at him. A failure to Satan, a failure to heaven, a disgrace to the sport of
professional baseball, an embarassment as an actor alongside matinee idol Yosemite Sam.
His trophies and accolades only served as a testiment to jordon's own failing and
dependancy on his dark cabal.
And so, the craven and wicked jordon, who had for a generation subjugated everything he
touched to his own balooning ego, found himself without hope, his basketball skills
stripped by his former master. No longer would teamates feel an irresistable urge to pass
the ball yet again to the man who has missed his last 5 shots. No more would referees feel
cowed by his demonic presence on court. No longer would league officials awaken in a cold
sweat from dreams where they swear allegiance to jordon's whims. The gig was up.
And so, the craven jordon summoned up all the selfish energy he could muster, and managed
one last great act of egoism. Unwilling to allow himself to play basketball on an even
footing with his former "supporting cast", unwilling to face being exposed for
the sham he was, unable to face the combined insult of having his own inate mediocricy
exposed before his unthinking masses of jordon jockers, the vile jordon simply took his
ball and went home.
Yes, fair reader, the reign of crepulence embodied by the sycophantic jordon is over. No
longer will we be subjected to his petulent and hypocritical whinings about whistles not
blown or money unearned. The fetid turd that was jordon's reign of egoism has been
expelled once and for all from the spastic colon of society. Today, January 13, 1999, we,
as fans of both basketball and humanity, celebrate our independance from the tyrany of
jordon.
Yes, Satan undoubtedly has other threats to brandish before us, and we shall deal with
them accordingly as they manefest themselves; but for today, we can all join hands and
celebrate our vigilance and rightousness in the face of jordon's hellspawned quest to
destroy the world.
My job, then, is over here. Chosen by fate to relay the tale of jordon's weakness and
pathetic lack of chatacter, and to warn of the true nature of his desire, I have endured
the slings and arrows of jordon's minions without flinching. I have served my debt to the
world, and will now humbly recede from this quest with the satisfaction that no less than
the NBA players themselves were able to see through the deceptions of the Terrible jordon
and in doing so save humanity.
We now return, for the first time in nearly a decade, to the sport of professional
basketball.
Huzzah.
Rev Mike Naimark