If you tune in to the networks' prime-time coverage of the Republican National Convention, you'll see the big speeches, learn what Karl Rove thinks about Mitt Romney's chances (prediction: Rove is bullish), and hear a lot of people extoll Romney's can-do spirit and well-groomed family. But there's another side to the gathering, beyond the silly hats, arguments over arcane convention rules, and general whoopin' and hollerin'. After extensive reporting, placing of hidden listening devices, and a greased palm or two, we have assembled this guide to the hidden RNC, to give you a window into the convention only the insiders know about.
Though the official story had it that Monday's events were cancelled due to the imminent arrival of Tropical Storm Isaac, we have it on good authority that the problem was actually the delayed arrival of Iggy. In every Republican convention since 1980, official activities cannot commence until a bull is sacrificed to Ploutos, the Greek god of wealth. This year's sacrifice—a noble creature bristling with muscle and the spirit of entrepreneurship—was delayed when the driver shepherding Iggy from his west Texas ranch fell ill after eating his 11th Chick-fil-A sandwich of the day. But by Monday evening, Iggy had been safely delivered, anointed with oil, and drained of his blood. After the party's super-secret Board of Overseers each imbibed from the chalice (making sure that Haley went last, since last time he damn near drank the whole thing), the convention could officially begin.