Bushie Gets Pissy:
What is it with this White House and its punk-ass nicknames? Karl Rove is "Turd Blossom," Irve Lewis Libby is "Scooter," and now to be devoted to the President is to be a "loyal Bushie." Fuckin' Bushie? Man, there's a couple of bars in Baltimore where if you call someone "Bushie," you're leavin' with a face full of bottle glass shards. Sure, sure, the Rude Pundit has always thought of himself as something of a "loyal bushie," but that's only because he prefers women with some carpeting downstairs than shaved clean. "Bushies" just sounds like what H.W. calls the maid's children at the Kennebunkport compound when they're running around the croquet field.
The head Bushie hisself had a public snit yesterday over the coming subpoenas of Karl Rove and Harriet Miers over the whole U.S. attorney clusterfuck of firings. After laying out his offer that Rove and Miers have tea and crumpets with a couple of members of Congress, sans oath, sans transcript, and with only limited lumps of sugar for the tea, the President unironically said, "[W]e will not go along with a partisan fishing expedition aimed at honorable public servants." Karl Rove and the word "honorable" belong together like a baby and a bucket of bleach. Indeed, it's about as dissonant as the sound a man might make if he slammed his dick in an unabridged dictionary. And then a midget jumped on the book.
Bush, though, is gonna go to the mat for his Blossoming Turd and for Miers (although, considering how quickly Bush folded on her Supreme Court nomination, she oughta be thinking about how many ways one can say, "Fifth Amendment"). Not for Alberto Gonzales, though. That motherfucker's gonna testify in order "to explain how the decision was made and for what reasons." See, Bush isn't concerned about the firings: "I regret these resignations turned into such a public spectacle." Oh, shit, that's right. We keep forgetting that they're resignations. Asked-for resignations, but resignations nonetheless.
After his pissy little statement of how he needs to get his way and anyone who doesn't agree with him is full of partisan shit, he was asked questions by reporters that ranged from stupid to idiotic. Here's one: "Mr. President, are you still completely convinced that the administration did not exert any political pressure in the firing of these attorneys?" How the fuck does one come up with that one? It's essentially, "So you're convinced you didn't do anything wrong after telling us you didn't do anything wrong?"
Of course, Bush talks about the "precedent" of his aides talking to Congress, that he wouldn't receive honest opinions and advice, although isn't this whole thing about firing people whose opinions and advice (and actions) didn't jibe with predetermined policy? And Bush also has a concern about the lighting of his aides in a hearing situation: "if you haul somebody up in front of Congress and put them in oath and all the klieg lights and all the questioning, to me, it makes it very difficult for a President to get good advice." Yes, the klieg lights. Those goddamned klieg lights. When you're used to hovering in shadows, squatting in dark corners to hiss out your counsel, klieg lights might reveal the pasty, sweaty face of evil.
Bush brought up those lights again (really) at the end of his appearance, being appalled at "the idea of dragging White House members up there to score political points, or to put the klieg lights out there..."
It's like fucking, you know. If you think it should only be done with the lights off, it's because you don't want anyone to see the moles, the dry patches of skin, the hair in weird places. To fuck with the lights on is to say there's nothing to hide: here is the body, all glorious and grotesque at the same time. If the Bush administration were a lover, it'd fuck in the pitch black in order to hide the herpes scabs, warts, and tumors.
