THE PRESIDENT: Hallelujah! Praise Jesus Christ! What a show! Why, me and Laura haven't been preached to so soulfully since the last Jimmy Swaggart Charity Blackface Ball!

Let's give a big hand to Smokey Norville for singing his songs "God I Need You" and "I Am Your God." Talk about your thematically versatile artists!

(Applause.)

And to Mary Mary, for "Heaven."

(Applause. Shouts of "Amen!")

And to Pastor Donnie McClurkin and his Christly chorus – for really mixing things up with "There's No God Like Jehovah" and "Our God is an Awesome God."

(Uproarious Cheering-in-Tongues.)

Man, for a minute there, I was so sure someone was going to pass the basket, I even told Pickles to scrounge up some pennies from the bottom of her $1000 purse – which ain't easy, overstuffed as it is with minibar bottles, Parliament menthols and Kotex.

Get the GODLY New Book!

(Laughter.)

Anyway, as you've probably guessed by now, this month is the Black Music Month – a holiday for colored folks to dwell on their incalculable debt to the innovative genius of Elvis Presley and Eminem. Of course, it's just this kind of event that presents my PR team with a bit of a challenge. Because the last thing any normal folks want is to listen to any so-called music filled with whiny negroid politics – like the Bluesies, or the Rap-Hop, or the Jazzity-Jazz.

Fortunately, even though wretched abolitionists forever scarred the South's proud culture during the Civil War, plenty of American blacks remain sufficiently cowed to continue worshipping their former slavemaster's blue-eyed God, Jesus. Not only that – some of them even sing about it professionally – thereby constituting a small, yet highly rhythmic ghetto of our Godly nation's glorious McJesus industry.

(Applause.)

So it seemed like a no-brainer to me to invite a few of those folks here, so together, we can co-opt what might otherwise be a secular homage to the liberal, faggy arts, and twist it into an old-time tent revival, held on government property and financed by the taxpayers!

(Applause.)

That way, everyone wins. Me, by having blacks other than Condi appear in photos at my Presidential library. Them, by scoring cheap publicity and selling a few more lousy, over-produced CDs. And the American Taliban, by further normalizing egregious affronts to the separation of church and state by wrapping them in a cunningly cynical cloak of political correctness and simulated inclusiveness.

(Applause.)

In closing, I want to say that this event has been so fabulously successful at representing the rich pantheon of black music, that I have already dispatched my minions to commence planning two follow-ups.

In September, we'll be honoring "Asian Literature Month" by having the Reverend Moon read aloud from the Bible while conducting a mass prearranged wedding on the White House South Lawn. And in February, "Latin Art Masterpieces Month" will kick off on the floor of the Senate with a live demonstration by some Hispano-Rican dude who airbrushes Jesus onto the hoods of lowrider El Caminos.

(Applause.)

Thank you, and GOD BLESS AMERICA!

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