Ever since Madonna to her fans, “Esther” to her Kaballah pimps embraced the power of The Zohar, she has been discreetly converting Hollyweirds A-listers to the hottest faith this side of Scientology. It was due to Madonna’s influence, er guidance that Brittany started schlepping around a copy of The Zohar that Madonna had personally given to her. Spears had also begun to tithe money to Madonna’s Kaballah teachers. The tithing part is very important as Madonna, Spears and Madonna’s new Kaballah pal, Demi Moore have lots and lots of money to give so that they can get good seats at any Kaballah gathering, get one-on-one counseling, teaching, etc from the Kaballah dons. Madonna has done an outstanding job recruiting her pals to wear strings around their wrists and do their best to wrap their heads around a hyperdimensional text that invokes disincarnate energies to act as mediums for the transmission of prophecy and guidance. But while Madonna/Esther has done a bang up job in Hollyweird, she just made one helluva breakthrough in the realm of professional sports by seducing and introducing Alex Rodriguez into the moist recesses of the pink temple wherein the scripture of the flesh became the ecstatic worhsip of each ones reflection.
You see, Madonna not only cavorted with the Yankee slugger, she also put him in direct contact with her Kaballah team to help enlighten him to the cosmic potential that he was destined to achieve. A Rod has quickly set his sites upon power, ever since his last contract negotiation where he reached out to Warren Buffett for advice–The Kaballah is yet another step in his quest to power. Meanwhile, Madonna gets to play this out on many levels. She delivers A Rod, which gives the Kaballah mafia an in with professional athletes through him, she gets to cuckold Guy Ritchie even further, thus finally putting the last nail into a once promising film career, she gets to have hot sex with another unfeeling, self-possessed ego-maniac (Echo–meet Narcissus) and she also gets to play out the role of Marilyn Monroe to A Rod’s Joltin’ Joe DiMaggio–an archetypal affair of the highest order. Madonna laps the energy up like a ravenous succubus to feed the the disincarnate appetities of the ancient spirits that feast upon the emotions that they themselves cannot directly experience. Then, A Rod’s wife runs off to Paris to be consoled by Lenny Kravitz. Can it get any weirder?
Meanwhile, the distant beat of drums reverberate across the planet, sounding a call to war in the final battleground of Babylon, while America is force fed even greater distractions of glamour in the spectacle receptacle we call society and culture and the gap-toothed saboteur is praised as a goddess for all her good works.