Tearing a page out of Jean-Paul Sartre existentialist discussion of hell.
Perhaps the most telling moment of George W. Bush’s presidency was when he attempted to exit, on camera, from a press conference at the White House. The background for his press conference appeared to be a wall of doors, but when he approached and tried each one in turn it was either a false door or locked–and he was obliged to look foolishly at the all-seeing and cruel eye of the television camera and have someone lead him off stage.
Now it appears, we are the fools on camera, with no exit in sight. Perhaps Bush’s little drama with the doors was carefully staged to set us up for his carefully crafted version of hell–Iraq, with no exits.
What a carefully contrived trap. You know what it is, it is one of those cunning boxes that invite you in, that are very easy to enter but when you want to leave, you find suddenly that you are too large for the openings, that something seizes you by the waist and pulls you back into the constricting box. Or, that suddenly all the exits have slammed shut and the walls are coming in at you and you cannot breathe.
That is our existential hell. That is Iraq.
Oh, I can weep and berate the bastards who were stupid enough to vote their bastard in when I never did. I can weep and tear my hair out because I was opposed to the war before it even started but mine was a little voice and I was outshouted by the warmongering assholes.
I am, unfortunately, trapped in this little box with those weeping and moaning bastards and warmongering assholes who are finally sorry, but . . .
One thing before the walls cave in and crush us all, can you stupid bastard Democrats who signed on with Bush at least apologize and own up to your stupidity?