(And some days it takes more Stones than others...) Where Mythical Bestiary meets Contemporary Culture and Chews On Its Leg Until Covered with Slobber.
Tuesday, December 14th: Who Are You, and What Have You Done With the President?
The actor who portrays G.W. Bush in "The Presidency" surprised the world by taking questions from an unrehearsed audience and stating that "30,000 Iraqis, more or less, have died as a result of the initial incursion and the ongoing violence against Iraqis. We've lost about 2,140 of our troops in Iraq."
Wednesday, December 15th: Another Small Step Back from the Abyss
In a scene reminiscent of Chaplain in the climax of "The Great Dictator", the Bush imposter publicly shook hands with torture victim John McCain and announced that he no longer believes in torturing prisoners.
Thursday, December 16th: As a Dog Returneth to Its Vomit
After two years of whinging from the White House that we can trust them with our civil rights, we find that the demon now possessing the president's body has for the last two years ordered the National Security Agency to spy on citizens without a legal warrant.
I'm one of those that agrees with Ariana Huffington's armchair diagnosis of GW as a "dry drunk", and this country's bizarre relationship with him reminds me of nothing so much as the cycle of hope, disappointment and betrayal I have seen too many times in the families of abusers.
2 comments:
He may also be suffering from Korsakov's psychosis. My mother has this --they can't remember the past so they make it up --confabulatory amnesia. I agree with your observation of the cycle. DeeAnn
Confabulation is a splendid word; I'd never heard of Korsakov's till now. If I knew more about Russian music (Lewis, are you out there?) we could make a Liszt of syndromes named after Russian composers. Most of the people who know me these days would say I have Tschiakovsky's syndrome-- rather pathetic.
During the first week of November, only 39 percent of those polled approved of the job Bush was doing as president. Since the Iraqui elections, the same ABC/Washington Post poll shows him bumped up to a whopping 47% approval rating. I suppose once the spying-without-a-warrant news soaks in, he'll bob up or down again. What would the polls say if they asked those 30,000 more or less dead Iraquis?
I wonder if those stubborn Thirty-niners simply cannot afford the psychic cost of being wrong about Junior. This stubborness seems fairly common in human events-- no one likes to admit they were fools-- and I suppose social historians have a name for it.
The southern United States spent a hundred years insisting that blacks were subhuman, rather than admit that their parents had done a bad thing.
Chauvinism-- "Napoleon is always right!" might be the diagnosis, though a bit grand for a dangerous pipsqueak like Bush Junior.
I try to have faith only in very small things, like the cuteness of kittens, the aroma of Kenyan AA coffee beans, or Frank Cho's ability to draw a rounded buttock. I have a record of being disastrously wrong about a lot of things, and having my nose rubbed in it almost every day gives me limited immunity against chauvinism.
-- Michael
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