Dammit, he's beaten us all. . . . He's achieved super-self-snarking-ridiculousness. He's a bad comedian heckled by his own words. His image weirdly self-photoshops somewhere between camera and upload. He's like the proverbial self-sucking ice cream cone. He has become immune to damage from anything or anyone outside his bubble. Even Death will angrily toss its scythe aside and throw up his hands in disgust.
George has nowhere left on earth to fail and godhood must now be conferred upon him. He will be the one deity that all mythologies lack: The Fucking Idiot Deity with absolutely nothing to recommend him except that [he] can't be kicked out of the pantheon.
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