Your mind tricks will not work on me. I have no mind!


Did you know Marco Rubio is exactly like Harry Potter? Well, apart from the whole "Harry Potter wins in the end" thing. And the "Harry Potter is a sympathetic character" thing. And the "Harry Potter isn't a sad, annoying sack of crap -- OK, Order of the Phoenix excepted, obviously" thing. But aside from all that, it's a perfect comparison, at least according to a recent fundraising memo. Guess who's Voldemort in this analogy? Here's a hint: his Death Eater army is yooge and classy.

Yes, according to Marco Rubio's Super PAC, the same organization that helpfully reminded usĀ Ronald Reagan hates that poutine-snorting bastard Ted Cruz, the comparison is apt. In the wake of Rubio's second-place (third-place? Who cares, he lost) victory in the South Carolina primary, they released a fundraising email directly comparing Rubio to Harry Potter and saying a certain other frontrunner Must Not Be Named:

"In Harry Potter lore, Voldemort, the Dark Lord, had a secret to his strength. His secret was his horcruxes," they wrote. "As each horcrux was destroyed, Voldemort became increasingly vulnerable, not increasingly strong. When all of the horcruxes were gone, Voldemort lost his one-on-one battle with Harry Potter."

Their argument appears to be that by winning every single primary and caucus other than The One That Never Ever Predicts The Actual Nominee, Donald Trump is ... having his horcruxes destroyed, we think? Was Jeb Bush one of Donald Trump's horcruxes? Because that's the only way we can make sense of this analogy.

Regardless, though, this got us thinking: to what other popular fictional characters is Marco Rubio comparable?

Star Trek II: The Wrath of Trump

"Captain, we have Trumpon Birds of Prey decloaking off the port bow!" said Commander Clinton, as two gold-plated Trumpon ships appeared in the viewscreen.

Captain Barack Obama's attention snapped to the new arrivals. "Computer, what's their heading?"

The dulcet, vaguely ethnic tones of the Federation's supposedly state of the art Rubitron 4000 rang through the bridge. "Let's dispel with the fiction that the Captain doesn't know what he's doing. He knows exactly what he's doing."

"The fuck is this shit?!" said Obama in disbelief, after a pause.

"We have no idea, sir," said Commander Clinton. "It's been doing that all day. We have no idea why and we can't make it stop, no matter what we do."

The Captain punched a button on his command chair, opening a comm channel to Engineering. "Lieutenant Sanders, do you have any idea what the problem is?"

"LOOK, I DON'T KNOW WHY THE COMPUTER ISN'T WORKING, BUT IT'S AS VERKLEMPT AS A MOTHAH! MAYBE IF YOU SPOKE UP MORE FORCEFULLY ABOUT FREE HEALTH CARE FOR CREWMEN, YOUR ENSIGNS WOULD BE MOTIVATED TO -- "

Captain Obama immediately cut off the comms and started rubbing his temples, his eyes closed. He looked up again. "Computer, fire photon torpedoes!"

"Let's dispel with this notion that photon torpedoes don't know what they're doing. They know exactly what they're doing."

The Captain shook his head and put his head in his hands, sighing. "Picard never had to put up with this shit."

The Lord of The Republicans: The Fellowship of The GOP

"We can be helpfuls, master!" pleaded the wretched creature to the two hobbits. "BROOKSUM! BROOKSUM! We can shows you the ways through the swamps, you'll sees! As long as you and THE FAT ONE -- " he hissed at Marco's companion " -- don't give in to the pornography of pessimism!"

"I don't know, Master Marco," said Marco Baggins's stalwart compatriot Jebwise Gamgee. "Can we really trust him to lead us past She-Carly to Mount Yooge?" Then Jebwise accidentally hit himself in the face with his own frying pan.

"I trust him, Jeb," said Marco. "He can bring us to where we can destroy the One Ring."

"If you say so, Master Marco," said Jebwise doubtfully, shrieking as he accidentally caught his own dick in his hoodie zipper.

It was the midst of the bleak times for Middle America. The Dark One's army of Udouche-Hai had spread out from Mount Yooge, committing hate crimes across all the land and threatening nearby GOPdor, observed by the watchful gaze of the Eye of Trump and amid raucous chants of "MAKE MIDDLE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!" The Mouth of Trump had already declared that under the leadership of the Eye, Ents, who were clearly all rapist tree terrorists, would have their Middle American citizenship revoked. Also he had mocked a disabled elf, which really wasn't cool.

"I know we'll make it there, Jebwise, with Brooksum's help. And then we'll go home to Floritton and The Shire." Both hobbits smiled in recollection of that beautiful, batshit fucking insane place.

"And hey," Marco continued. "If we die in a swamp, we can just say we were third-place champions and everyone will go along with it for some reason."

"Sounds good to me!" said Jebwise.

The three of them set out.

Star Wars: Return of The Rubio

Jedi Master Marco Floridawalker stood in his enemy's palace, beset on all sides by guards, bounty hunters, and the worst scum and villainy the galaxy had to offer.

"You will give me the Republican nomination, or I will be angered, and I will become more powerful than you can possibly imagine."

Jabba the Trump laughed, that peculiar laugh that always sounded strangely like "YOOGE ... YOOGE ... YOOGE." Then he spoke: "BUT WHY WOULD I DO THAT, WHEN THE REPUBLICAN NOMINATION -- " he hefted his enormous bulk to gesture to the figure of Captain Reince Priebus, frozen in carbonite, " -- OCCUPIES SUCH A LOVELY PLACE ON MY CLASSY PALACE WALL?"

"Very well, Jabba," said Marco. "You leave me with no ch -- "

His words were cut off as Salacious Coulter hit the button that opened the floor panel. "HEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!" the diminutive whatever-the-fuck-she-was shrieked, her blonde hair flicking back and forth in murderous excitement, as Marco fell into the pit. A wall opened to let in Jabba the Trump's pet rancor, which roared in its ravenous hunger.

Rubio got to his feet and stood tall as the monster approached, its maw dripping with saliva at the prospect of an easy meal. "You don't scare me, rancor. My father came to this planet and worked as a bartender in Mos Eisley for -- "

His speech was cut off as the rancor ate him in one bite.

"YOOGE ... YOOGE ... YOOGE," laughed Jabba the Trump.

[Politico]

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