Republicans Running From Bush, Part 3 - Wherein Michael Steele Meets Karl Rove's Sodomizin' Stormtroopers:
In the annals of punk-ass bitchery - an encyclopedic collection of toadies, cavers, and cowerers - an entire page will be devoted to Maryland's Lieutenant Governor and Republican Senate Candidate Michael Steele. For, indeed, if evolution worked the way Michael Steele does, early humans would have stood upright, bumped into a tree limb, and decided it was better to slink around hunched over. Surely, that is what Steele would have done, considering his collapse from mensch to putz in a little less than 48 hours.

Let us not praise Steele too much for his steak lunch with reporters where he went to town on the Bush administration and the Republican Congress he hopes to join. Because Steele decided to speak truth about the powers only on condition that he remain anonymous. Still, despite that pussy aspect of his interview, we can say, goddamn, it at least took a single cojone to say, as Steele did, that the Iraq War "didn't work. . . . We didn't prepare for the peace," that his being a Republican is a "scarlet letter," an R that he must wear. Asked if he would want Bush to campaign for him, Steele said, "To be honest with you, probably not." Hey, people have said far milder things under the veil of anonymity.

But, oh, when you are a Republican, and you tell the truth, well, you must get a visit from Karl Rove's Sodomizin' Stormtroopers. Dressed in black leather, with black-shaded helmets, bearing black batons and ten-inch black strap-ons, Karl Rove's Sodomizin' Stormtroopers are the flying monkeys of the White House, sent out by Rove to, well, fuck in the ass anyone who dares cross the President. Jesus, the horrible yowls that are heard around D.C. and Georgetown whenever their dreaded black Hummer o' Doom is dispatched. Ask Paul O'Neill, ask John McCain, ask poor Arlen Specter, who now leaves his doors unlocked because he was tired of replacing them - just look around that humid fuckin' city and you'll see politicos big and small walking like they just got off their stallion after riding the Oregon Trail. When the SS got a hold of Steele, they gathered his campaign staff around, under threat of mass sodomizin', and roughly gang-dildoed Steele, forcing him to fellate their hard plastic crotch rockets. Oh, yes, oh, yes, by the end, with a rectally-bleeding Steele curled up on the floor of his campaign headquarters, Karl Rove himself walked in, shoved a gloved hand into the African American Lieutenant Governor's aching sphincter, and whispered to him, "You're not only gonna make it right, you're gonna get all jigaboo, too. Georgie likes his Negroes to dance." Then, with a wave of his blood and shit-covered gloved hand, Rove and his SS disappeared into the Baltimore night.

It was simple. While Steele recovered - Rove sent his personal proctologist over (Rove is a savage man, but generous to a fault) - his scared shitless campaign quickly said that it was Steele who made the remarks, but, no, listen, he also praised Bush. And then yesterday, Steele himself, in an interview with a conservative talk show, shucked, "I've been quoted before as calling the president my homeboy, you know, and that's how I feel." He said he was joking about that scarlet letter stuff, and he more or less said that he loves Bush so much, he'd blow the President on stage. "I'm not trying to dis the president," Steele jived. Back in the White House, Bush said that he still supports Steele, especially now that he's been such a good boy. Karl Rove put his defiled glove in a drawer next to all the other ones he's got.

Steele also said on WBAL, "If I'm not free to share that as a candidate for the U.S. Senate, how can people expect me to share that and express that as a United States senator?" Well, sure, as long as he can express it anonymously, just like a good and brave Republican Senator.