President Bush Wouldn't Know a Veteran If One Spit in His Face:
What a sad, strange little man our President is. Did you see him on Veteran's Day, at the National Cemetery in Arlington, hand on his heart, people in uniform all around him, looking for all the world like a third grader about to giggle when he says, "Invisible" instead of "Indivisible" during the Pledge of Allegiance? What do you think he's thinking about in that moment? Is it a slight bit of shame to be surrounded by honest-to-god veterans who faced bombs, bullets, and tanks so that his granddaddy could get richer? Or is it his speech that he's about to do, where he lies bald-faced about the sacrifices in Iraq being for a greater cause than enriching Dick Cheney and his cronies? Or do you think he's thinking about last night's pie and wondering if there's any left in the White House fridge or did those damn El Salvadoran cooks throw it out?

It's really pathetic, watching him. It's depressing and soul-sapping. He won't face protesters. He won't answer questions. Every action he takes contradicts every word he speaks, especially when it comes to soldiers and veterans; if this was a playground, we'd have forced him to the ground and made him eat dirt by now. Instead, he speaks before the convservative lapdogs at the Heritage Foundation, a group of fascists so eager to blow the President that they wrestle each other nude, covered in Alaskan oil, for the privilege of a presidential tea-bagging. And there he spouts more gloom and doom, violence mixed with lies - about the number of "foreigners" fighting in Iraq, about the influence of Al-Qaeda. So much hate and cowboy bullshit that the corpses of MacArthur and Patton must want to crawl out of the grave and tear Bush's yummy heart and tiny brain into bits and drag his heaving soul back to hell with them.

But this is an ironic world, and, as the President was speaking, Iraq continued its horrific descent into chaos, with bombs going off right after Bush spoke. And the CIA, eager to fuck up Cheney's shit, has declared that the situation in Iraq is going to deteriorate, what with the roughly 50,000 insurgents fighting against the "coalition."

So we get to stare at this demi-man who asserts himself as America's leader, the kind of man who would watch a group of frat guys run a train on a fucked-up, frightened pre-pubescent girl and call it a beautiful thing and dare anyone to call it a gang rape. We get to watch the sad, sad spectacle of this man attempting to be a great thinker, calling for democracy in the Middle East without offering a plan to lead it there, a campaign commercial masking as policy, all hat, like No Child Left Behind, like Clean Skies.

And now, finally, the endgame of Iraq for the Bush Administration, with today the White House declaring that they ought to accelerate self-rule in Iraq as if they just came up with the notion, as if it was the plan all along. So what we're gonna get is a faux election, one that can coincide with the 2004 Presidential race, so we can see images of Iraqis voting.

But we've seen his face, this President, our leader, ex-coke head, ex-drunk driver, born again Christian, parent to girls gone wild, a fucking idiot, a monkey in a suit. And we know that he's masking fear, like he's gonna get caught jacking off in the Oval Office, all turned on by the Washington Monument, America's erection. He's afraid. He's running for his life. Not like soldiers in Iraq or the Vietnam that he so assiduously lied about and dodged, but like every scared child realizing that he's done something horribly wrong. Oh, the spanking that's coming.