America: Aren't We Embarrassed Yet?:
No, seriously, this couldn't get any more embarrassing if Muqtada al-Sadr forced George W. Bush to stand on a table, surrounded by ululating militia men, and strip to "Give Peace a Chance," Bush weeping silent tears as he has to pull off his t-shirt and panties, with Muqtada demanding, to the cheering Shia, that the President bend over and spread his ass cheeks and then stand back up and dance, nude, that cyclist's body shaking to the music, his balls slapping his upper thighs, maybe a transition to something peppy, like "I Will Survive." Oh, how the cell phones would be a-recordin' then.
Tomorrow night, when the Commander-in-Chief reveals his great and mighty, brand spankin' new, shiny plan o' war, with its splendiferous promises of killing more troops (aka "sacrifice"), Bush may as well just show up and burp, fart, smirk, and wave. And scratch his ass as he walks off. Because that's how much of a difference it'll make, except, you know, to the lives of the additional troops. 20,000 is a real big number. Higher than he can count, no doubt.
And now that hideous, depraved fucker Saddam Hussein has been turned into a martyr, his final smile of "I won, George" the last living image of him, damn, Osama bin Laden's gotta be thinkin' about turnin' himself in, wondering how bad America (however much it wants to protest that it was the Iraqis who decided when Saddam would swing) will fuck up his trial and execution, making suicide bombers pop like birds on an ungrounded wire around the world.
Conservatives like to talk about the concept of "shame," when they themselves are shameless. George Bush has turned this superpower into a gigantic laughing stock. And the laughs just keep on coming.
Note: Travel day. Rehearsing new show. Plane awaits. More later. Maybe.
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