Please, Dr. Rice, Fuck Us Again:
Let's say, and why not, that you're an upper middle-aged white guy in D.C. who really needs to get fucked by a hot cock at the end of a ripped torso. You cruise the Anacostia waterfront, before all the meat markets are shuttered to make way for the fuckin' baseball stadium, hoping that you can find someone and get this over with quickly so you can head home to Georgetown, return your son's car to him, and kiss your wife "hello" after a hard day's work on the Hill. You see some fine damn pieces of ass, a rainbow of possible penises, but one really attracts your attention, a black dude, shaved bald, which is a pretty good indicator that his balls are hair free, in a muscle shirt that shows off that fine goddamn six-pack. You see the way he's leanin' on the wall, outside the video arcade, and you know that he wants some cash. Oh, shit, yeah, he's a top if there ever was one. After the negotiation, which was just a quick back and forth, and this one's just a c-note, you pull into an alley, your sphincter throbbing with desire, and as you're dropping your pants, you tell him you wanna see that monster cock of his. When he whips it out, you notice it's not as smooth as you would like (and not as big, but, hey, the clock's ticking). There's the tell-tale herpes marks, the faded warts, and you say to the dude, "Look, I'm gonna pay you to fuck me no matter what, but why don't you wear condoms?"

"You want me to wear a condom?" he says. "Whip out the Trojan, bitch."

Perhaps you're not being clear. "Yeah, I want you to wear a condom, but look at your dick. You think you oughta always wear condoms?"

"Fuck you, you little punk," he replies. "You can pay me to fuck you in the ass, and I'll fuck you good, but do not impugn my integrity."

You sigh, knowing that you want to get fucked and it's too late to find someone else. So you hand him the condom, enjoy the fucking, give him the hundy, and drive home, hoping that you will be disease-free in the morning.

So it was that Bush's house negro,Condoleezza Rice, was (and continues to be) questioned about her fitness to be Secretary of State. Oh, the right wing media was atwitter at Barbara Boxer's attempt to put some perspective on the greater glorification of Condi, but instead of dealing with any of Boxer's allegations (although this morning, CNN did get Joe Biden's back on the whole number of really, truly trained Iraqi security forces), all the "news" channels played endlessly was Condi's posturing at the end of Boxer's remarks: "Senator, we can have this discussion in any way that you would like. But I really hope that you will refrain from impugning my integrity." Oh, yeah, go, Condi, don't take that smack from some liberal bitch from California (where Condi used to be, you know, Provost of Stanford). As usual, the media acted as if because Rice said it, it must be so. Boxer didn't back down, but Rice won the image war. Never answering a question, never admitting a mistake, rewriting history, and saying that she has integrity: Condi followed the Bush adminstration script to the letter.

Of course, since every Democrat on the committee opened his or her remarks with some variation on "Of course, you're going to be confirmed," much like in the Alberto Gonzales "hearing," the uselessness of the questioning was just this side of pathetic. With confirmation-denial off the table, why in the world would Rice bother fully answering a question? It's like a cop telling a dope dealer, "You're gonna walk out of here today, but tell us who your supplier is."

In his interview with the Washington Post, President Bush said he wasn't going to hold anyone accountable for all the "mistakes" leading to the Iraq war and Abu Ghraib and all that other seemingly criminal crap: "We had an accountability moment, and that's called the 2004 elections." While Ted Kennedy called "bullshit" on that remark the same day it was published, he could have relied on the most absurd moment of all the interviews, when a reporter from USA Today said to Bush, no shit, "You're obviously a student of history." Dude, even when Bush was a student, he wasn't a student of jackshit.

Bush oughta go to the American history textbooks, and maybe just the lil' ol' Constitution he's gonna swear to uphold tomorrow. The Legislative branch is equal to the Executive, according to, well, the document that created those branches. In other words, bitch, you don't get to decide when the "accountability moment" is gonna happen or who or how anyone's held accountable. Sure, Bush himself has a pass until at least 2006, but what about others? What about now?

Senate Democrats on the various committees could simply do this: they could say "No" to Alberto Gonzales, whose written responses to Senate Judiciary Committee members were essentially, "Fuck you" and "Go fuck yourself" and "Shut up, bitches and confirm me," or, more precisely and more frighteningly, that the CIA has free rein to sodomize "detainees" as they see fit. What if the Democrats said, "You know what, Condi, you were fucker-upper in charge, and we don't want you confirmed." The Democrats in the Senate could hold the line that if Bush isn't going to hold anyone accountable, they will. No one's sendin' Condi or Al to jail. It's a simple equation: you need our non-filibustering tacit approval, and if your fuck-ups led to torture and massive losses of life and limb, then, no, the American people don't need your services.

See the oh-so-clear path? You can tell the diseased whore to put it away. There will be no fucking tonight. You can just get in the car and drive off. Or you can just get fucked over and over again.