It is beginning to look like I may have to start a new blog just to document Glenn Beck’s growing collection of messianic tribulations. If ever a man was obsessed with his own vision of a doomed world that only he can rescue, it’s little Glenny B.

On today’s program he broadcast another plea to his disciples to be wary of any tales of his demise:

“You ever see those movies where they say, ‘I gave a note to my attorney, and if I’m found dead, open the note.’ I kind of feel like you’re my attorney. If I show up, you know, in Thailand, dead from auto-erotic asphyxiation, don’t believe it.”

This comes just weeks after he warned…

“If I’m ever in a weird car accident, or I commit suicide or something, after the media stops celebrating my death, could they check into it? Because I’m not suicidal. And I’m a pretty good driver.”

And it was just last week that he blew his secret dog whistle:

“I fear that there will come a time when I cannot say things that I am currently saying. I fear that it will come to television and to radio, and I will stop saying these things. Understand me clearly. Hear me now. If I ever stop saying these things, you will know why. Because I will have made a choice that I can only say certain things, and I haven’t lost all of the rights. But know that these things are true. And if you hear me stop saying these things, it’s because I can no longer say them to you. But hear them between the sentences. Hear them, please. I will be screaming them to you.”

So in the event that Beck is assassinated by zombie agents from the Gamma Quadrant, we are now all baptized as translators of the scripture that he has been screaming at us. It is an awesome responsibility, but one we undertake for the welfare of mankind.

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