That's what I asked myself when I saw (via Washington Monthly) that Justice Sunday II was on the way. Wasn't the first Justice Sunday only a few months ago? I thought I was going to have to wait a whole year for the next one, the excitment building as I counted down the days, weeks, and months, lying in bed unsleepingly the night before, and then leaping out of bed at dawn the day of, making sure that the TV and cable worked so that I'd be sure not to miss a righteous, fundamentalist reactionary second of it.
Cause you know the first Justice Sunday was the bomb, yo. I don't think I'll ever see a DJ battle like that again. And who can forget Bill Frist biting the head off of that bat? And the end, when James Dobson nailed himself to that cross on stage, live, on camera, and John Ashcroft stabbed him in his side and red, white, and blue confetti spurted out, and then the Rockettes came out can-canning in their little devil costumes as they wrapped the whole church in a big American flag...yeah. That was great.
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