No Future
You are George W. Bush. You have been president for six full years now. You have had plenty of time to establish your work habits, your political tendencies, reveal your priorities, push whatever agenda you might have, all in an attempt to cement you post-presidential legacy as it will be written by the Ivy League ivory-tower intellectual eggheads you so rightly despise.

What do we know about George Bush? Based on his record, will we remember that he could:

Keep us safe from terrorism?

Accurately identify geopolitical danger-spots in the world so as to not waste time focusing on those that are ultimately no threat?

Judiciously execute a well thought-out and practical war plan that would give us the best shot at victory?

Manage the care for those who come home damaged/wounded from the wars we commit to?

Respond with force and speed and compassion should some kind of natural disaster befall a major American city?

Speak?

Well, that's No x6. Realistically, people stop paying attention to sitting second-term presidents completely in January of an election year, so unless he can pull victory in Iraq, re-defeat of the Taliban in Afghanistan, social security reform, energy independence, debt reduction and an air traveler's Bill of Rights out of his ass in the next 9 months, I'd say he's in no small amount of trouble, historically speaking.

Ah, but George Bush, you are about nothing if not sass and magic of little consequence. A little soft lead polished up to look like steel for the cameras, a startling slapped-together town of Rock Ridge for Hedley Lamarr's Fourth Estate desperadoes to safely rage at while you watch from the safety of a nearby bluff.

So what if you can't do all that fancy presidentin' like you wanted to, Mr. Bush. Can any of those other "qualified" predecessors move space and time with the stroke of a pen?

That was all you, Georgie.


"Yatta, bitches!"

Horde all those snatched-away hours and then, reapply them at the end of the term to squeeze in the signing of the executive orders to make ice-cream free and for the summary arrest of Robert Novak.

My God. Like Gary Sinise said when he was playing Truman in that HBO movie: what a paradise we could make of this world.


This post on the Narcissus Scale: 1.9


Pops

Labels: fetters

- posted by Pops @ 9:53 PM