Ashcroft's failing health? Totally mucoid plaque
So John Ashcroft has resigned and Bush has nominated a Messkin to the post of AG. (How, by the way, can the Democrats oppose a Mexican? They’ll trip all over themselves to not offend, and before you know it, Karl Rove will have lubed them up and ram the entire 11th Federal Circuit up their cornholes.) The speculation on the part of people who are adorable, really, is that he might start making nice with Democrats by not appointing judges who believe that the only thing that separates church and state is 600 pages in Webster’s.
Horsefeathers. The entire assumption that Bush is going to try to shore up his legacy with pointy-headed liberal comsymp historians depends on the wholly faulty premise that he’s his own man to begin with. I think if there’s anything that’s defined George Bush in life, it’s his willingness to coast along in the wake of smarter men than himself, content to cling to coattails and smile and wave at the camera until Daddy’s friends find something else for him nominally head.
George W. Bush isn’t going to worry about his legacy because George W. Bush isn’t president. A small cadre of energy executives, weapons contractors and baby-seal-murderers is president, and he’s just shoved smirking into the spotlight every so often to make a speech, kiss a baby or propose a constitutional amendment mandating a scarlet A for women who get abortions.
These men don’t care about his legacy. They’ve got men like Karl Rove who know how Bush got here—and if appealing to the worst in Americans can help them write off roofies for their harems of 16-year-olds (Tom DeLay is sponsoring a bill to allow this—look it up) then all the better. They would appoint a bonobo monkey as Secretary of Flinging Feces if it would get them their tax cuts and subsidies. This just happens to be the easiest way. (It doesn’t help that they also happen to be close-minded little men [and sad, sad, women] who have mucoid plaque for hearts…)
Bush is just a small part of this plan, and this is a perfect example of how they do it: shit, almost anyone would look likable after John Ashcroft--I mean, this guy may condone a little torture here and there, but he's Hispanic. So next time they run a presidential campaign they'll have painted the war to look like it was all blowjobs, all the time. And the nation will sigh, having received the moral equivalent of a quick handy in the backseat of the car: not the ideal outcome, but we've had worse. And as Bush walks modestly off into a retirement of letters and quiet contemplation, the old men in suits stick someone else in his place. And then they swirl their brandy and laugh maniacally.
(They're plutocrats, get it?)
Horsefeathers. The entire assumption that Bush is going to try to shore up his legacy with pointy-headed liberal comsymp historians depends on the wholly faulty premise that he’s his own man to begin with. I think if there’s anything that’s defined George Bush in life, it’s his willingness to coast along in the wake of smarter men than himself, content to cling to coattails and smile and wave at the camera until Daddy’s friends find something else for him nominally head.
George W. Bush isn’t going to worry about his legacy because George W. Bush isn’t president. A small cadre of energy executives, weapons contractors and baby-seal-murderers is president, and he’s just shoved smirking into the spotlight every so often to make a speech, kiss a baby or propose a constitutional amendment mandating a scarlet A for women who get abortions.
These men don’t care about his legacy. They’ve got men like Karl Rove who know how Bush got here—and if appealing to the worst in Americans can help them write off roofies for their harems of 16-year-olds (Tom DeLay is sponsoring a bill to allow this—look it up) then all the better. They would appoint a bonobo monkey as Secretary of Flinging Feces if it would get them their tax cuts and subsidies. This just happens to be the easiest way. (It doesn’t help that they also happen to be close-minded little men [and sad, sad, women] who have mucoid plaque for hearts…)
Bush is just a small part of this plan, and this is a perfect example of how they do it: shit, almost anyone would look likable after John Ashcroft--I mean, this guy may condone a little torture here and there, but he's Hispanic. So next time they run a presidential campaign they'll have painted the war to look like it was all blowjobs, all the time. And the nation will sigh, having received the moral equivalent of a quick handy in the backseat of the car: not the ideal outcome, but we've had worse. And as Bush walks modestly off into a retirement of letters and quiet contemplation, the old men in suits stick someone else in his place. And then they swirl their brandy and laugh maniacally.
(They're plutocrats, get it?)
posted by Hey, Barkeep at 1:24 AM
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