Gettin' High Off the Fumes of Bullshit:
Man, if bullshit was Prozac, what a chill nation this'd be. Sure, there'd be precipitously more suicides, maybe a smilin' serial killer or two, but mostly, it'd be chill America. 'Cause whenever the President speaks, the wafting scent of bullshit that emanates out of his mouth oughta have more of a purpose than stinkin' up the joint and fillin' the ozone with methane. Otherwise, why the fuck does he talk at all?

Take Bush's speech on Monday about the economy. Bush was massaging the rhetoric like a man whore puttin' pressure on an old moneybag's prostate. Talkin' to the "people" at a John Deere plant (get it? It's for the workin' people, like Bush) in Kernersville, North Carolina, the President bizarrely listed all the horrible things that have happened on his watch: "In the past five years, our economy has endured a stock market collapse, a recession, terrorist attacks, corporate scandals, high energy costs, and devastating natural disasters." Now, a humble man might bow to the forces, economic and natural, that have brought about such nightmares. A wise man might take some responsibility. A smart man might not have mentioned them at all.

Bush, though? Well, see, all that shit happened despite his best efforts, you stupid, ungrateful fucks: "These were all shocks to our economy, which I felt required decisive action. I believe that economy grows when people are allowed to keep more of their own money, to be able to save and to spend." See the economic genius at work there? If people can save and spend their own money, then corporate scandals won't happen and God'll be so goddamn happy that he won't send hurricanes to fuck with the overtaxed citizenry of the South. Oh, and, hey, thanks for the "decisive action" there on Katrina and Enron.

By the end, after a laundry list of shit promises that'll never happen or will happen in a way that dicks over the majority of the workers at that John Deere plant, the speech reached a point of embarassment of praise of the mythical American worker: "You know, the great thing about our history when you look at it is the American people have always proved the pessimists wrong. At the start of a hopeful new century, the American worker is the most productive worker that human history has ever known." Then, the money quote, the one that says, "Hey, it's shitty now, but we're not gonna acknowledge it": "[T]he best days are yet to come for the American economy." Which is not unlike saying to a group of rape victims, "There will come a time when you're not raped. We'll call those the 'salad days.'"

The regional press was not, let's say, impressed. The lead editorial from today's Winston-Salem Journal (which has the same initials as the Wall Street Journal, but is significantly less evil) about the Bush visit is titled "Walk the Walk." The Journal comments, "[Bush] painted his administration as one that's fiscally conservative, when its reckless spending has been anything but. He noted encouraging economic figures released last month, but those figures hardly offset all the manufacturing jobs that have been lost - especially since the jobs being created often pay less than those lost." However, the speech was, typically, a set-up, a little play for the cameras: "[T]he president spoke to an invitation-only crowd at the plant Monday, so nobody was questioning him, at least publicly."

And the Greensboro News-Record dared to fact check the shiny, happy numbers Bush touted. In the speech, Bush, in one of those festive misspeaks that make him so much fun to hear and read, said, "Today, one of every 12 jobs in North Carolina is exported by -- is supported by exports. In other words, one in 12 of the people who work in this state do so because they're selling a product overseas." However, Marta Hummel notes, "Since Bush took office, the state has lost 172,000 manufacturing jobs, many in the Piedmont Triad" (the region of the John Deere plant).

So perhaps it was fitting that Bush chose to make his economic speech at a factory that makes machines that spread manure. Poetic, if you think about it. For we're wallowin' neck deep in it now.