How strange it must be to worship a man like he is a god. Even in the ancient times, emperors were seen to be one step below the level of deities. The gods themselves were crazed, flawed beings, backstabbing, fighting, raping, murdering bitches and bastards who would just as soon destroy humans as grant them favors. Basically, they were projections of ourselves, but with superpowers. And we worshipped because we wanted to keep those vicious fuckers on our side. Perfection, you know, came later, much later, with the fairy tale version of Jesus (not the doubting, occasionally pissy Christ of the Bible), because rather than risk wrath on earth, one is told to strive for such perfection so you can get into Jesus's front door. And now there's another perfection, the one true leader, George W. Bush.
Yesterday, the incredibly faggy-named Hindrocket at the even faggier-named blog Powerline (the Rude Pundit seems to remember dancing away many a wanton night at a gay disco named Powerline back in the day, but that could be long dormant coke residue talking) described President Bush this way: "It must be very strange to be President Bush. A man of extraordinary vision and brilliance approaching to genius, he can't get anyone to notice. He is like a great painter or musician who is ahead of his time, and who unveils one masterpiece after another to a reception that, when not bored, is hostile." And what is Bush's latest "Impression:Sunrise," his Rite of Spring? Oh, some damn emission reduction accord that is, claims the Hindrocket, oodles better than the Kyoto Treaty in reducing greenhouse gases and which, by the way, won't "make any difference to the earth's climate, which will be determined, as always, by variations in the energy emitted by the sun." That, of course, begs the question that if nothing we do can stop the horrible sun from changing the climate, why bother negotiating any such pacts? Such crazed circular logic only reveals the self-evident, and that would be the brilliance of George W. Bush, which needs no explaining.
'Cause, you see, truth would require going beyond the sheer magnitude of Bush's genius, which would mean you'd have to kindly ask the President to remove his thrusting, visionary hindrocket from your asshole (or wait until he's done), get up off the Presidential seal rug in the Oval Office, stumble out, pants around your ankles, Commander-in-Chief semen dripping out of your sphincter, and read something other than the White House's talking points. Which would lead you to see that the Asia-Pacific accord is "largely symbolic" with "no emissions targets or timetables" and that every other nation involved is a Kyoto signatory, which this agreement does nothing to change. In other words, perhaps this masterpiece of foreign diplomacy on the environment doesn't even rise to the level of "what's the least we can do."
It's pathetic, the routine Bush worship of the vast majority of the right. If Allah was worshipped with such fervent praise by prostrate pilgrims at Mecca, he'd say, "Aw, c'mon, guys, you're embarassin' me."
Yes, indeed, it must be strange to be President Bush. Certainly there are days when he's told about shit like Powerline or other conservative lickers of W's balls ('cause he ain't readin' it, to be sure), and he just giggles that nasal, nervous little giggle of the poker player who just sure bluffed everyone at the table and won the pot.
And it must be strange to be the Hindrocket, waking every morning, wondering what would George do, and flogging himself to be sure he is scoured and worthy of his President.
Correction: Australia, which signed onto the bullshit Asia-Pacific accord, is just as punk ass about global warming as the United States, and it is not a Kyoto signatory. Thanks to astute Canadian Chris for the info.