Ponies of Mass Destruction

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Memo to everyone excited and psyched up by this year's democratic process: HOW DO YOU DO IT?

I can't do it. Fuck knows I've tried. I tried to get excited about the primaries, but Kerry, my least favorite of the eight Dmocrats running*, got picked before my state even got to vote. I tried to get excited every time Al Gore got all lefty and pissed, but all I could do is ask where the FUCK he was four years ago when it would have made a difference?

And every single day, every SINGLE FUCKING DAY, George W. Bush gets away with things that would have gotten Nixon impeached so fast he wouldn't have had a CHANCE to resign. Things that would have gotten Clinton hanged, publicly, from the top of the Washington Monument. And Bush just breezes on by with about the same half of the country behind him he's always had.

It has been said, by Molly Ivins and others, that Bush was "born on third base, and thought he hit a triple". Funny line. True line. But it masks the insidious nature of the Bush organism, which has somehow also developed the ability to convince OTHER PEOPLE that he hit a triple, even if they were there in the stands at Shea Stadium watching him get squeezed out of Barbara.

This WMD thing... fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK this WMD thing... you've all seen the stories. Huge, epic, WMD report. Years in the making. The weapons inspectors Bush sent in HIMSELF. Finally put out their official report, said they not only found neither jack nor shit, but that even though Saddam had wanted to make more of both jack and shit, he'd have had to wait for everyone to stop checking up on him before he could even start repairing the shit factory. Contradicts everything the administration has ever said, except for the obvious fact that Saddam Hussein really, really, really wished he had a nuclear bomb. And a pony. Of mass destruction.

So now, before we go into Actual Quote Time, I ask you to take a second and listen to a happy song. Maybe some Shonen Knife, or some TMBG, or whatever. Something light and cheerful. Because when you're done, it's ACTUAL QUOTE TIME.

"This was a place where if there was a potential nexus between the terrorists and one hand and access to knowledge and the technology of WMD on the other, it's Iraq." - Dick Cheney, claiming that the WMD report proved the war was justified.

"The Duelfer report also raises important new information about Saddam Hussein's defiance of the world in his intent and capability to develop weapons. The Duelfer report showed that Saddam was systematically gaming the system, using the U.N. oil-for-food program to try to influence countries and companies in an effort to undermine sanctions." - George W. Bush, claiming that the WMD report proved the war was justified.

And these statements are being given a fucking pass by the media, AGAIN. To hell with baseball metaphors. I think I proved yesterday that two thirds of the words in any given baseball metaphor just sit around not doing anything. This is more like a marathon. And the weapons inspectors ran the entire marathon, and John Kerry ran the entire marathon, and just as they got to the finish line, sweating in their tank tops and shorts, Bush steps out from behind a tree, in a suit and tie, and crosses the finish line with them.

And cameras from every major network, and several minor ones, have footage of him stepping out from behind the tree. And he's wearing a SUIT. And everyone takes a long hard look at the footage, and the evidence, and they conclude that the race is a dead heat, and really, there's no way to find out for sure who won. And everyone gets a hug and a cookie. And then Bush knocks the cookie out of Kerry's hand, also on camera, and goes on the campaign trail talking about how Kerry demeaned the sacrifice of the flour and the sugar by throwing the cookie to the cold, hard ground.

And the absolute best thing that can come out of all this is... President Kerry. "The bad news is, you have to eat shit for the next four years. The good news is, it doesn't contain nearly as much mercury as the Bush shit would have." So really, I envy all you people with your signs and your bumper-stickers and your cheering. And I hope, for once, that you'er right, and I'm wrong. But I ain't fuckin' counting on it.

*He was my second least-favorite of the nine people running for the nomination, of course.