A man walks up to the Pearly Gates. Saint Peter says, “You look like Einstein, but you have no idea the lengths some people will go to, to sneak in. Can you prove who you really are?”
Einstein ponders for a few seconds and asks, “Could I have a blackboard and some chalk?”
Saint Peter snaps his fingers and a blackboard and chalk instantly appear. Einstein proceeds to describe with arcane mathematics and symbols his theory of relativity.
Saint Peter is suitably impressed. “You really are Einstein! Welcome to Heaven!”
The next to arrive is Picasso.
Once again Saint Peter asks for his credentials.
Picasso asks, “Mind if I use that blackboard and chalk?” Saint Peter says, “Go ahead.”
Picasso erases Einstein’s equations and sketches a truly stunning mural with just a few strokes of chalk.
Saint Peter claps. “Surely you are the great artist you claim to be! Come on in!”
Then Saint Peter looks up and sees George W. Bush. Saint Peter scratches his head and says, “Einstein and Picasso both managed to prove their identity. How can you prove yours?”
George W looks bewildered and says, “Who the heck are Einstein and Picasso?”
Saint Peter sighs, “Come on in, George.”
Much as I hate to rain on your parade, I heard that joke about Eisenhower.
Doesn’t rain on my parade. I think that Eisenhower was light years ahead of Dubya on the intelligence front.
The old joke about the guy who goes into a coma in 1958 and wakes up in 1972 comes to mind: when he wakes up the doctor asks him the usual questions to determine his mental state. He asks the guy: “Who is the President of the United States?” The man responds: “Eisenhower.” The doctor says, “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but Eisenhower is dead.” “WHAT?!” screams the man, “you mean that Nixon is President?!”
What I wonder is, having ascertained Bush’s identity, why did St. Pete not send him elsewhere?