Don't get me wrong, I'm not selling out. The Democrats are losing all prospective by continuing their non-stop rant to get Bush impeached. All rants must have a clearly stated mission and a time line. The 8th inning of a ballgame when your home team is winning 15-0 is not a good time to start ranting about how the pathetic starting pitcher on the other team should be benched. Live in the moment, put your anger in the backseat and let your sense of amusement do the driving!
This freestyle rant redirects the sound and fury to more productive ends. Of course like any garden variety rant, my rant breaks every established rule about truth and fairness to get a few cheap laughs at Mr. Bush's expense, but I'm no longer angry. Like Elvis Costello once proclaimed, "I used to be disgusted but now I'm just amused."
Anger would have been appropriate in 2004. But now as the candle burns down into the last 20 months with 72 months of Bushevik "gotchas" behind us, we are beginning to see pathetic farce of the king who has evolved into his own court jester. Anyone can get angry at a demagogue but it takes nuance to use satire to turn him into a dumbagogue.
It will be the ultimate poetic retribution to a poseur the throne. Bush will go from throne to drone in the final 500 days of his corrupted reign when his karma is finally realigned. People will have forgotten who he was by January 15th 2009 he hops on Air Force One for one last sentimental journey home to retire in Crawford.
Bush is hoping to live out his golden years, guzzling Wild Turkey armed with a chainsaw chasing tumble weeds around, with Karl Rove, his loyal manservant at his side. But things fall apart.
Bush started a joke which started the whole world crying, and the Bee Gees's code of karma, Rule # 4791 specifically stipulates that the final joke will be on Bush. Here's the exact wording of the code, and I quote:
I started a joke, which started the whole world crying,
But I didn’t see that the joke was on me, oh no.
I started to cry, which started the whole world laughing,
Oh, if Id only seen that the joke was on me.
I looked at the skies, running my hands over my eyes,
And I fell out of bed, hurting my head from things that Id said.
Til I finally died, which started the whole world living,
Oh, if Id only seen that the joke was on me.
There it is as plain as the nose on your face. The final joke is on Bush!
Robin and Maurice Gibb were originally thinking about Adolph Hitler when they wrote Bee Gees rule #4791. But, unknown to Dubya is the simple fact that Rule #4791 applies to any bully boy head of state who invades a foreign nation without a cause of war or a plan.
Here's how karma finally cleans George Bush's clock, under Bee Gees Rule # 4791....
Bush will have epiphany which will smash his well cultivated image of himself as a hyper-masculine Clint Eastwood kinda guy. One day in the hot tub with Karl Rove, Bush finally breaks down and tells Karl that he is the only person he ever loved. Dubya will divorce Laura and follow his heart. The happy same sex couple will end up tying the knot secretly before a justice of the peace in Brattleboro Vermont. within one short year
Dubya and Karl intend to keep the marriage secret for fear of alienating their conservative Christian base when Karl Rove makes good on his plan to run for president in 2012. It's a sinister plan to back-door George Bush into the Oval Office as Rove's sub-rosa First Man.
The plan goes awry.
To make ends meet, single mom Laura, the twins Jenna and Barbara, plus grandma Big Babs will move into a big house together as the cast of a new Fox network reality show called All the President's Gals. Condoleezza Rice will be a frequent guest asking uncomfortable questions, telling Laura that George is dying "to get some" from her and wanting to know where that beee-ach Laura is hiding "her husband."
In the first episode Bush is horrified when drunken Jenna outs her father's "special" relationship with Mr. Rove right in the middle of his dedication speech for his own George W. Bush Presidential Library. Chaos ensues as both Jenna and Barbara start lap dancing the dignitaries attending the grand opening and clearly unglued Big Babs rushes the podium to grab the pint bottle of Wild Turnkey little Georgie pulls out of his jacket and starts nonchalantly guzzling the contents of.
This is just a sneak preview of Dubya's harmonic reconvergence, and karma realignment under the Bee Gee's code.
As we near the final curtain and we gaze with a sense of primal wonderment at the contrived spectacle of machismo by Mr. Bush, we realize that Elvis Costello was right!: We really are amused, not disgusted.
For now we have better things to do than being disgusted.
We are past the anger stage and are now moving on to the healing stage where little children are free to laugh again and say. " Mommy! Look the funny clown who still thinks he's the decider!"
In White House gallery of presidential portraits, they are preparing to add Bush's official portrait which is a striking black velvet canvass painting of s sad faced clown. It's a garish but unflinching neo-expressionist assessment of his rogue presidency.
This is far past the time for anthems and battle hymns. The man whose lust for power was insatiable has been reduced to sniveling, finger pointing eunuch. George Bush has become a parody of the parody of himself.
It's the autumn of the patriarch where Bush turns to face his legacy and realizes he's squandered it all. For what? The undying hatred of his royal subjects and courtesans who grown so bold as to laugh openly at the self deluded old fool who turned out to be a buffoon.
Anger and disgust may move mountains but being amused has it's own special rewards.