We’re on the Road to Nowhere

It was a common joke during the Kennedy administration (at least to the extent that Republicans can joke without resorting to death threats) that Kennedy’s rocking chair was the perfect symbol for his presidency: It offered the illusion of movement without ever actually going anywhere.

Har dee fucking har har. Now…

I give you pResident George W. Bush in his assembly line-driven car with an empty gas tank. That picture is emblematic of an administration led by a dry-drunk rube who’s still tickled pink that he’s the preznit, a preznit who has about as much sophistication, panache and dignity as a billionaire birthday boy, which, come to think of it, isn’t an analogy at all as much as it’s the God’s unflyblown truth since every fucking day at the White House is July 6th and Democrats, liberals and gays are the birthday boy's daily piñatas, an administration that’s mired in the petrified amber of its ossified way of thinking, the lies that have bejeweled this administration over and over like some terrible tiara. An administration on the road to nowhere unless you want to consider open space past the edge of a cliff a legitimate extension of the highway.

Look at that picture of Bush and Ford employee Barbara Neal. It looks like Ellen Degeneres on the worst date in the history of all Womanhood. The strained grin makes her look like a woman who’d rather be putting her eyes out with red-hot coat hangers and then rinsing them out with ammonia but for unexplained and unknowable reasons has been strongarmed into a date with a scion of a rich and powerful friend of the family, the idiot son who’s decided that he wants to settle down with the right woman provided she’s got wide hips suitable for child-bearin’ and a large fishing boat (send picture of boat, heh heh). A man in a technical sense only who likes to think that he’s putting himself in touch with the proletariat by visiting an actual place where actual work is being done (for now, at least) and wears shiny goggles and uses a spaz-out move that was patented by Ray fucking Charles a half a century ago.

The Rude Pundit’s already weighed in with this and I don’t pretend to bring anything more to the table that the Rude One has already but since when did that ever stop your prehistoric porcine?

You longtime bloggers, the ones that have been around even longer than me, remember when Bush was about to invade Iraq and the wingnuts claimed that we were unpatriotic and crazy? Remember when Bush got that great idea called the USA PATRIOT Act and when we pushed against it and the wingnuts screamed that we were unpatriotic? Remember all the times when we were right and they were wrong, wrong, wrong?

I give you the War in Iraq, which, if God is merciful and allows the histories to be written by liberals and the level-headed, will one day be referred to as The Moaning, Squirting, Glistening Clusterfuck to End All Clusterfucks.


I give you Abu Gonzo, whom we said over two years ago would be the worst fucking Attorney General in history, a guy who would actually wind up making John "I Got Beat by a Dead Guy" Ashcroft look like Bobby fucking Kennedy by conspicuous relief, a guy who wrote torture memos for his casually sadistic boob of a boss to sign off on, a partisan clown whom we told you would continue undermining the Constitution like a Mexican mole even more than he already had. To you Senators who voted for him those long two years ago and who are being lied to by him, save your buyer's remorse. The complaint window's closed.

I give you the USA PATRIOT Act, which, in a typically Republican development, was used as a tool to allow Bush to appoint “interim” US attorneys without Congressional approval, because Arlen “Magic Bullet” Specter muttered, in the waning moments of his chairmanship of the Senate Judiciary Committee, “The preznit must bypass us and make us redundant because, well, US attorneys and shitcanning them has everything to do with fighting terror and, oh shit, where’s the Motrin, I think my cancer‘s coming back?”

I give you No Child Left Behind, which was almost immediately defunded since it was never intended to be anything more than a recruiting tool to send to Iraq innocent kids like LaVena Johnson without providing any real apparatus to apprise parents that they could opt out and not allow their personal information to be sent to recruiters.

Now, you’d think that we’d’ve converted more wingnuts than Andrew fucking Sullivan since the Glorious Invasion of 2003 but no. Instead, we’re hearing the same shit we’ve been hearing since 2002, haven’t we? The only difference is they’ve somehow found a spot on the dial that’s actually louder than “10” and we’re hearing at “11”, “You hate the troops, you hate America, you have Bush derangement syndrome, you have, oh shit, where’s the fucking Valium?”

So you know something, you stupid fucks? I’m getting awfully sick and friggin’ tired of hearing about how wrong we were and still are when we were dead right all along, when we said that Iraq would only get good people on both sides unnecessarily killed, that tax cuts for the bloated fucks that Bushie calls his base was a bad fucking idea even before he started a war against an easily defeated nation that now has cost us half a trillion dollars and even the scaled-down Afghanistan mission is costing us $370,000,000 a week.

And, contrary to public pronouncements by our honorable Attorney General himself, emails prove that Gonzo was present at the hour-long 11/27/06 meeting that detailed out the “roll out plan” to the home state senators whose US attorneys would get the axe, while Tony Snow goes on TV and tells CBS’s Harry Smith that Congress has no oversight over what the White House does (“Checks and balances are solely banking terms, you stupid peasants.”) and this less than a month after Condi Rice told us that Congress ought to stop “micromanaging” the war.

And, I reiterate, Arlen Specter kindly wanted to lighten the workload on the incoming Democrat majority by making Congress a little more redundant by not having to worry about confirming US attorney appointments.

If the administration told us water was wet I’d stick my hand under the faucet. If they told us that day was light and night was dark, I’d assume for the moment that I lived in Alaska instead of Massachusetts because you cannot afford to believe anything that this Crooked Man Who Walked a Crooked Mile administration tells you at face value.


And there’s something disheartening, something sickening, something despicable about a man who brags about wanting to be surrounded by people who give him “candid advice” after defending firing US attorneys for partisan gain when he reacts like this when someone grows a set long enough to challenge him on his lies and says they want to get off this road to nowhere.