Gaslight, v: to manipulate someone into questioning their own sanity.
Karl Rove, n: see, Gaslight.
You see, chiddrins, it's all in our twisted little heads:
WASHINGTON - President Bush said Monday the Iraq war is "straining the psyche of our country" but leaving now would be a disaster.
BEFORE IRAQ:
THIS MORNING:
No strained psyche there, no sir. Nothing but stalwart confidence and unflinching leadership.
More gaslighting sous-fold.
Many Democrats want to leave Iraq "before the job is done," the president said. "I can't tell you exactly when it's going to be done," he said, but "if we ever give up the desire to help people who live in freedom, we will have lost our soul as a nation, as far as I'm concerned."
Y'see, it's about America's soul. And under Bush, American soul is contagious. Ask anybody!
Okay, don't ask that guy.
"War is not a time of joy," he said. "These are challenging times, and they're difficult times, and they're straining the psyche of our country. I understand that. You know, nobody likes to see innocent people die. Nobody wants to turn on their TV on a daily basis and see havoc wrought by terrorists."
Ah, how repition reeks of Rove.
But Bush said he agreed with Gen. John Abizaid, the top U.S. commander in the Middle East, that if "we leave before the mission is done, the terrorists will follow us here." A failed Iraq would provide a safe haven for terrorists and extremists and give them revenue from oil sales, Bush said.
It must be my strained psyche talking here, but
DOES OUR PRESIDENT IMAGINE TERRORISTS HAVE NOT FIGURED OUT HOW TO FIND THE UNITED STATES ON A FUCKING MAP???
Again, strained psyche on the loose, but
REVENUE FROM OIL SALES???
You know what I think?
I think this President has taken one too many jaunts on Cocaine One. But I think we are doing just fine.
This President wants us to believe that WE have come unglued, while he's the one with his glue-addled pate buried in the brown paper bag. This President wants us to believe that WE are dangerously unstable, when everything he lays a finger upon crumbles to dust.
This President:
BEFORE:
AFTER:
Mr. President, those are YOUR marbles scattering across the floor.
It's YOUR psyche that's strained.
It's YOUR soul that is lost.
It is evident on the very face of you.
So you hurry off and tell Uncle Karl the gaslighting isn't working. We're the sane ones. And we're coming for your job.