Welcome to the Party, Bitch (With a Side Note on the Necessity to Sodomize Bill O'Reilly With a Microphone):
Some days, Laura Bush is worthy of our pity. Imagine being married to one of the most despised men in the world, someone who has done nothing short of wreck centuries of American progress and grace, someone who knows he's in over his head. Imagine all the weeping and praying she has to deal with, all the times she has to say, like a mantra, "Jesus will show us the way" as she conspires with the Secret Service to lock the sweet liquor in the basement, as she disconnects the phones so her husband can't call old contacts to get him some blow. Pity her for all the times she has had to place the President's cock in her mouth, sucking for all she's worth, reciting the Dewey Decimal system in her head as she mindlessly bobs until her husband's polluted, oily seed infects her mouth once more. Pity her for laying on the French linen on her stomach after having been roughly fucked in the ass one more time, with the President shouting, "Say you're Saddam" as he smacks her ass, with Laura thinking, "At least I didn't have to wear the moustache this time," while George calls his mother after it's over to weep to Babs that he did another bad thing, a habit he's had since he fucked passed out sorority girls at Yale. Well, at least Laura's along on the big ride, livin' the big pay-off.
For so long, we hoped that Laura was a quietly subversive wife, the conscience of the President. We harbored in her our desires that someone teach George that civilizations perish because of the hubris of the few. Laura was a librarian, we all fuckin' know, and it's appropriate because if you remember The Music Man, Marian the Librarian was snookered, as was everyone else in the town of River City, by con man Harold Hill. Laura's promoted reading and literacy, but any hopes we might have had about her were forever dashed when, last year, she cancelled a conference on poetry and "American Voices" when it seemed that some of the attendees might actually use their American voices to speak out against the war.
And then, two nights ago, Laura appears on The O'Reilly Fucktor, and she uses the occasion to demonstrate that she's a good automaton, programmed to keep her opinions to herself, only once actually stating a real opinion, when she said, in answer to one of O'Reilly's long-winded pseudo-questions, "You gave me a really great idea. Maybe it is the media that has us divided." Otherwise, the interview was one talking point after another, one scripted reference to how she doesn't like people attacking hubby, how the sit-on-my-face twins are just so giddy and great and super-duper, how she and hubby never really "debate" issues, how her work day is like so many let-them-eat-cake wives, bland and information-free, until it was time to go back into the bubble of the domestic sphere once again (except, of course, whenever hubby needs to show that the world is safe by sending Laura to the Citicorp building, which was, supposedly, the target of a terrorist attack that could occur at any moment).
Side note: O'Reilly's "interview" was just another occasion where the saggy, ratings-hungry, embittered buffoon could use another human head as a sounding board for his own bleats of insignificance. 'Cause, you know, with all the death and destruction being wrought by her husband, what could be more fuckin' important than asking the First Lady if she was mad at Hollywood for dissin' George? Because what O'Reilly's pointless little gab session showed us more than anything else is this: who cares what the fuck Laura Bush has to say about anything. She has decided that she is irrelevant. And O'Reilly enabled her irrelevance.
And O'Reilly is such a sanctimonious, smug motherfucker. He says on his show, in his "Talking Points" last night, that he treated Condoleeza Rice and DNC Chair Terry McAuliffe with similar tactics, the "respectful challenge." But, you know, transcripts are a bitch: Check out the Condi interview and check out the McAuliffe interview. What's extra pathetic is that you don't even have to read the words - just look at how often McAuliffe was interrupted versus the unimpeded speechifying of Condi and you'll know that "No-Spin" is more spin than just shutting the fuck up.