Neocons: The Cicadas of Politics

In a recent Guardian article, Richard "Prince of Darkness" Pearle claimed to have "no regrets" about his part in starting and conducting the War of Error. Other neocons involved in the debacle (including the Decider Guy) have issued similar pronouncements. Their amazing hubris shows just how deluded they are and that delusion has offended many. Even Rep. Walter Jones (R-NC) jokingly said, "I would like to suggest ... that maybe we give Paul Wolfowitz a new job and send him over there as mayor of Iraq, since the neocons got us in over there. And maybe Mr. (Richard) Perle could be co-mayor or co-chairman."

A Breed Apart

It seems neocons consider themselves a breed apart. Their unshakable conviction resemble an infallibility suitable for a Pope. They seem genuinely confused that the flock sees a much different picture. They see the tumult and carnage as merely the early shoots of a burgeoning liberty tree and are quite offended that Americans and Iraqis force-fed their bitter fruit aren't on their knees kowtowing to their obvious brilliance.

One by one, the neocons are going on to spread their brilliance across the land. Rummy plans a neocon think tank to show the world he's right and they're wrong. Wolfie departed the administration with an unnecessarily divisive assignment to the World Bank. Showing his brilliance, he made a hash of it. Bound for the streets - with his $400K "performance bonus" in hand - he's taken to the airwaves to shed any personal responsibility. In his mind, the entire world is in on a plot to think of him as a blithering idiot instead of the Einstein he fancies himself. John Bolton is also part of the elite Club Neocon Ninny. He replays his repetitive rejoinder of, "you're wrong" - followed by film clips showing just the opposite - in every interview.

Hubris of the Month Club

Their hubris is also amazing given the phalanx of reports that they cooked intelligence and poo-pooed anything that didn't match their well-developed theories. It's striking just how conceited their view of their fellow humans was. They were always right. Everyone who disagreed was always wrong. And each disagreement was justification to call people traitors, terror-supporters, and wild-eyed lunatics. The neocons not only mixed the Kool-Aid, but drank it as well. It's not surprising that with all those super-sized egos bunched together in their ignorance, we ended up with the worldwide debacle we have today.

Pfft to the War on Terror. It's a really a World War Error.

Of course, the neocons didn't do it alone. There are many - on both sides of the aisle - who drank from the poisoned Chalice of Conceit. They've similarly turned a blind eye to their own share of the debacle and continue - even as they blame the neocons - to do anything about it. It's one of the few times in history one could say the voters didn't get what they deserved. No one deserves the concrete ineptitude of the neocons and their enablers.

Cicadas to the Core

Soon - either by ejection or election - the neocons will run to ground, leaving us to right their "right" path. But as they've shown before, they'll be the political version of cicadas. They'll lie quietly for 17 years and emerge again in some future conservative administration to muck things up.

And, of course, they'll be completely right as they are simultaneously completely wrong.

Labels: bush, politics

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Thursday, May 31, 2007

How Impeachment Alters the Universe

Salon columnist Gary Kamiya recently weighed in on impeachment for Uncle George. His verdict? Ain't gonna happen because the American people don't wanna. "There's a deeper reason why the popular impeachment movement has never taken off - and it has to do not with Bush, but with the American people. Bush's warmongering spoke to something deep in our national psyche."

Apparently it also spoke to the 88% of respondents to an MSNBC poll who said they "believe President Bush's actions justify impeachment." It said, "YOU ASSHOLE!"

Headless Chickens

Americans are generally hesitant to impeach and that's a good thing. If we were always yelling, "Off with the bastard's head!", Washington would be nothing but a collection of monumental coups filled with headless chickens. Frankly, the chickens who still have their heads are doing damage enough running around.

Iraq has pissed off an electorate famously difficult to piss off, the proof being the six years of relentless bad news it endured before finally saying "enough". But, if there is an impeachment - and my money is on Dilbert Dillhole's time running out before it comes - it won't be for the cluster coitus that is Iraq. Iraq is much too inconvenient and untidy. Those who bringing the charges would be much too embarrassed to confess to their own complicity. Too many people would have to recuse themselves for supporting the disaster to begin with. There wouldn't be enough free range politicians left to raise a quorum.

If an impeachment comes, it will be for the standard illegal activities that usually bring down administrations. Just like Bill's Clinton's impeachment was about lying to grand juries and not blowjobs, the collapse of the Bush administration will come courtesy of the growing number of scandals multiplying like paramecia in stagnant water.

Incompetence Begets Evil

Attorney firings begat Gonzo's still evolving comeuppance. His arm twisting of Ashcroft kicked off fresh questions about illegal wiretaps. Those questions resulted in subpoenas for documents the administration won't cough up. Connected to those documents are other batches tied to Karl Rove and Monica Goodling - one taking the fifth and the other hiding behind his desk in the White House. As those subpoenas make the rounds, another Rove aide is pleading the fifth and angling for immunity for documents related to Jack Abrahmoff, who in turn ties to Libby, Rove, Cheney, and a good number of Congressothieves.

The thigh bone is connected to the hip bone...

No. Impeachment, if it ever comes, won't be from one clearly defined mess like Iraq. It will come from the thousand self-inflicted cuts George made while cutting his nose despite his face. If there is a Bush impeachment it will be more like the death of Enron. The administration will implode into an infinite loop of lies, back stabs, poor judgment, and moral turpitude not of the sexual kind and as it does, an evil black sun will appear to suck all matter in the American political universe right into a massive and dead black core. But regardless of how this administration ends, its black hole will rival anything in the natural universe.

It will skew the orbits of all our political planets and swallow all light for years to come.

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Labels: bush, politics

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Tuesday, May 22, 2007

George is Still Supportin' the Troops

Some things just chap me raw, and the latest is the White House's opposition to a 3.5 percent pay increase for the military. The modest increase would narrow the gap between private sector jobs - that presumably don't require getting shot at - and the military. Military pay habitually lags the private sector by significant amounts and even in peacetime there's plenty of justification for giving them anything we can spare.

As a part-time Commander-in-Chief sharing his job with a new War Czar, it's the height of hypocrisy for Yosimian Sam to fight a pay raise for the very troops he claims to support. Is it not enough to shorten the time between extended tours? Is it not enough to send them off to war poorly equipped and then reward them with substandard medical care and pitiful death and disability benefits? In what world is this acceptable treatment for the sacrifices of those who defend our country and even those that should be doing it for themselves.

His opposition is in synch with his increasingly bizarre behavior. He no longer attempts to make his asshatted actions look good. He simply says "screw you" and does what he wants, when he wants. He isn't a lame duck, he's a quite healthy smirking bull in a china shop. This latest affront to the nation is akin to the captain of the Titanic running into the iceberg, backing off, and intentionally ramming it again and again.

Apparently, living in Texas gave him little knowledge of icebergs, governing, or common sense.

It's no longer a question of when the Idiot Savant-in-Chief will leave, it's a question on whether he'll take the whole country down with him. The nation is bleeding from the thousand cuts of his abysmal administration. Our military is nearly destroyed, our Justice department has become a nest of incompetent snakes, and our Bill of Rights is shit-stained from the furious wiping of his arrogant ass. The Executive is no longer a co-equal branch of government, it is a robust and mutated cancer on the ass of society.

Many pundits talk about his legacy. It's a vision in which he is pilloried in the present and waiting for that far-off day when historians forget just how worthless he was. If that happens, I expect it will come when the final flickers of the sun go dark.

I recently wrote that I'm not much of a hating man, but I do have my exceptions and he is the most odious of them. I may have had some trepidation over pissing on Jerry Falwell's grave, but I have no inhibitions against whipping it out and pissing on George's head. There is only one thing that gives me pause.

The skeevy bastard probably loves a golden shower.

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Labels: bush, politics

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Thursday, May 17, 2007

POP! Goes the Bubble

It's time to rethink this whole Bush in a Bubble metaphor. Bubbles are fragile things borne on feathery puffs of air, changing course on a whim. They're also transparent, so if President Guy was inside one he'd see what was happening outside. Instead, we can't change George's course with a Force 5 hurricane and if he's looking outside, he's doing it through three feet of steel-reinforced concrete - and let's not get started on what the Big Dick's undisclosed location must be like.

Let's view the course change first. We can sum it up in one word - surge.

Surgin' Along

It's true it's still early, but it seems the only ones confident in the surge are George, the Big Dick, and the Twins. Death squad killings are up, Barney and Mrs. Beasley are out tracking kidnapped soldiers, and retired Generals continue to rip George a new one every few weeks. Even when he does change course - as with his recent decision to talk with Iran - he denies it's a change, but an "amenable conversation".

A real bubble would have long since popped.

Bubble-like transparency is a joke too. There are so many scandals Congress can't direct the heavy traffic. The House Committee on Oversight and Government Reform will postpone its own "amenable conversation" with Condi Rice to make room for a deposition from George Tennet on the evidence that got us into this bubbly Iraq mess. They're apparently setting up an Attorneygate carpool to move that scandal along.

Scandals, Scandals, Scandals

Hydra-headed scandals never elicit more than a yawn from the White House, so they've sparked a growing insurgency within the ranks of the Kool-Aid drinkers. Last week's Republican congressional delegation stopped by for tea, cookies, and a little ass-reaming and George made it sound like a love fest rather than the smackdown it was.

They weren't alone. Heretofore hardcore conservatives are getting fed up too. RedState.com editor Erick Erickson is, "tired of defending a party that continually puts into positions of power known perverts, louts, and corrupt common criminals." He's drawing up a "battle plan" that aims to, "wage war upon them until they bend to common sense and decency."

Well, ain't that just enough to frost a President's bubble?

Even the "bidness" guys are turning on him. Bloomberg News said, "While the other major democracies have, or are about to have, new leaders, America is mired in a rudderless status quo. A new embarrassment or scandal...seems to surface daily - the only good news for the White House is that occasionally these stories overshadow the bad news coming out of Iraq. Private conversations with Republicans throughout America reveal doom and gloom about a politically paralyzed presidency and party."

Ken Lay Returns From the Dead

What's next, is Ken Lay going to return from the dead and bite Decider Guy's ankle?

No, a bubble is not what we have here folks. What we have is a train on the wrong track and headed for the washed out bridge.

We should be so lucky that he lived in a bubble. If he did, we could simply pop it and make him go away.

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Labels: bush, humor, politics

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Monday, May 14, 2007

When's an Emergency Not an Emergency?

e·mer·gen·cy - (n) a sudden, urgent, usually unexpected occurrence or occasion requiring immediate action.

The Commander Guy has never been known for his eloquence, so a little remedial reading might be in order.

"George, stop poking the other kids in the eye and turn to page 3 in The Pet War. Sit up straight so we can read together...and turn the book right-side up please."

Paying for the War of Error

The War of Error is funded through a series "emergency" supplementals, an installment plan predicated on imminent threats by a beret-wearing moustache and assurances the war would last, "weeks or months, certainly less than a year". Plenty of people fell for this twaddle, so it seemed reasonable at the time. Besides, it gave Congress a shot at some budget oversight via periodic reviews of war spending.

But a funny thing happened on the way to the, "sudden, urgent, unexpected occasion". It lasted four glacial years. The Republican Congress - aided by some quivering Democrat-Jelloheads - evaluated the emergency supplementals based on a string of new Presidential promises. WMD, regime change, nation-building, insurgency, Iraqi security, and a vague notion of "success" came and went like clockwork. Congress looked at the emergencies du jour, slathered on some extra lard, and passed the bills along for a Presidential scrawl.

Hostile Takeover

Through his ineptitude, George awoke one morning to find the Congressional Bank the target of a hostile takeover. The new management expected to see a return on their investments. They wanted a metric to show the strutting and posturing meant something beyond worthless drivel. Politely asking the BushCo CEO failed. Rallying the citizen stockholders failed. Finally, the Congressional Board decided on due diligence and inserted metrics into the emergency bills.

The CEO President went ballistic, as bankruptees in denial sometimes do. He railed against the bank, claiming he was being hornswaggled by unreasonable demands to meet quarterly performance benchmarks. Like any reasonable creditor, the bank continues to work out a deal, but the CEO Guy is having none of it. Even though he's the one in trouble, he demands withdrawal of the bankruptcy petition, full restoration of his emergency budget, and a juicy bonus for being so viciously attacked by enemy-aiding accountants.

Stockholders have seen this scenario play out time and again. In the end, the CEO usually loses and finds himself rooming with Dennis Kozloski at Club Fed or "pursuing exciting new opportunities" as a gentleman cow puncher in Texas.

It couldn't happen to a nicer guy.

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Labels: bush, humor, iraq, politics

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Thursday, May 03, 2007

The Elvis Conspiracy

I'm not generally much of a conspiracy theorist. I don't believe Elvis is in Wisconsin working at McDonald's, or the moon landings were staged in a NASA studio, or that somehow the September 11 tragedies were purposely staged by the government. I am, by nature, a skeptic. I like to give people the benefit of the doubt and try as hard as possible to base my decisions on fact.

However, I have a low tolerance for liars and charlatans once I do satisfy myself of their guilt. Nothing chaps me more than someone who tells a lie and then defends it by saying it's to my advantage that they told the lie. I'm also inflamed by the notion that if said liar or charlatan is caught red-handed, telling the lie is somehow my fault. Someone telling a lie doesn't make me a traitor, terrorist, or maniacal morale squasher.

It does, however, make them a liar.

Give Them Enough Rope...

I used to give the Bush administration plenty of leeway. If someone accused them of a lie, I generally countered there was no proof. I tended to explain each mishap as just blundering by a crew of incompetents. Of course, I also believed that no matter the reason we ended up in the soup, it was still inexcusably bad and Bush was still at the helm. I believed the cause of the blundering didn't matter much. Whether you're a ninny or a liar, bad stuff is still bad stuff.

Finally, the house of cards began to collapse. It became more and more difficult to look beyond the daily revelations of arrogant, dishonest behavior. With each oily drip, any benefit I was willing to offer found itself simply a doubt. Information conflicting with the party line was invariably blamed on lower level functionaries, the person who leaked, or the victim of the leaks. Everyone in the administration became overnight Alzheimer's victims. Executive privilege came to mean, "I dare you to come and get the information." The President came to look like a tin pot dictator protected by a squad of political suicide bombers. Eventually, the pretense of honesty or legitimate mistakes was abandoned along with the truth. The administration had gone to the well of distraction far too many times and the public came to trust them about nothing.

See that blue sky? If they said it was blue, at least 2/3 of the American public would consider it a hoax.

Blue Sky? What Blue Sky?

I don't like living in a country where I question whether the sky is blue. I don't like living in a country where every explanation from the administration is bound to cause a scandal within the week. I don't hate America. I detest what it has become through dishonesty and incompetence. I also don't like living in a country where I can't give my elected officials the benefit of the doubt.

I'm surprised to find that I - the prototypical skeptic - now find myself constructing conspiracy theories of my own.

I look at the deepening cesspool of scandal and avarice and begin to consider the unthinkable. I see top-down rust throughout my government. From the inner circle to the lowest-level cronies, I see a tower so thoroughly weakened by corrosive bad behavior that I don't see how it continues to stand. My government no longer serves me. A rabble of hubris-bloated hobnobbers have hijacked it for their own gain. Our national prestige and considerable treasure have leaked as readily as the levies in New Orleans and those leaks have eroded my natural resistance against conspiracies. Checks and balances have become a thing of the past. Our government is stacked and every switch and lever is off, allowing the administration and their supporters to stride like giants across the land.

A Real October Surprise

Looking at the facts, I can only conclude the wholesale rejiggering of my government will eventually lead to one thing - a real October surprise. Our next election may be outrageously stolen, or simply just called off. Once, such a thought would have been the worst of the worst conspiracy theories. Now, it seems to take on the patina of truth.

I sincerely hope my conspiracy theory is wrong, but if it isn't, I may find myself heading to Wisconsin in search of Elvis.

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Labels: bush, politics

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Thursday, April 26, 2007

Dear George...

Dear George,

I just wanted to drop a note to say how displeased I've been with some of your behavior lately. I know you're always prattling on about how I speak to you, but you and I know that isn't really true. In fact, it's a little presumptuous to say so. Somehow it makes you seem almost messiah-like and you're nothing of the sort. I talked to Jesus about it and he was really mad. He even threatened to come down there and nail you to a cross himself. Not exactly the type of behavior you'd expect from the Prince of Peace, but I can understand his feelings. So even though I'm not usually one to talk directly to you pitiful mortals, I figured a registered letter was a good idea. Judging from your behavior, I'd like to have a paper trail. You never know when there could be indictments.

Let's start with this whole compassionate conservative thing. I mean please, what twaddle. You run around the world telling people how good they have it rather than doing things to make it happen. That's called hypocrisy George and I should know because I invented it, just like everything else. I've always taught you wretched beings that saying you'll do something is a sacred oath to honor. It's the whole basis for trust and civility in that ant farm you call a planet. I know you've been making mistakes like this for years, and maybe I should have stepped in sooner - my bad if that's true. But, my first impulse was to let you figure it out on your own - I mean I did give you a brain - but I guess they must have dropped it back in the factory. That's what I get for outsourcing production capacity. I guess I've learned a lesson too - if you want something done right, do it yourself.

Then there's this whole bully thing. I don't know where you got the idea that poking other people in the eye was a good way to make friends and influence people (that Norman Vincent Peale was one of my better products, I must say). It seems you're always running around invading people or twisting their arms or stealing their lunch money. But what makes your boorish behavior really bad is how you demand they're falling down on the job by not being happy about you terrorizing them. That sort of behavior is just not cool and if you don't knock it off PDQ, you might find yourself with a thunderbolt stuck up your ass. I think you know I'm not one to make idle threats, just ask the Babylonians.

Another thing that really chaps me raw is how you're always blaming things on other religions. Although to be fair, at least some of the religion thing is Jesus's fault. He's the one that got you pissants together and organized you into different tribes who hate each other, but what's done is done. That kid never did understand I created evil to keep all the pollyannas in check. He was always making stupid decisions like that. I thought I brought him up better than that, but there you go. I guess I haven't been as good a parent as I'd have liked, being a single parent and all. Anyway, stop dissing the Muslims and all the rest of those people who scare you so much. And leave the atheists alone too. It's their business if they want to believe in me and I'm not one to quibble with personal decisions. I'm not sure I'd believe in me either if I saw the mess you and your friends have made of the place. You're really damaging my credibility George and I don't like it one damned bit.

I guess I'll close by saying I'm very disappointed in you. You've left half the world in a lurch and you and your friends have been pilfering the collection box. Let me tell you George, I'm a pretty big dude and you can't just get away with stealing my lunch money. Remember, what's yours is mine...period. I'd really like you to clean up your act. Read that Bible I had the twins (say hello to the girls for me, they're hot) give you last Christmas. It's a pretty good owner's manual for leading a reasonable life, but so are the Quaran, the Torah, and all the rest of the books I've had distributed. You're fond of saying how much you love me and want to please me, but I have to tell you, you're falling short...way short. I want you to clean up your act and get right with me. I hate to be pushy, but I'd like to remind you that someday you'll die. And let me tell you, St. Peter is a tough grader, not the type to be happy with a D- GPA if you get my drift. If you can't clean yourself up, don't be surprised if you fail your finals and Peter turns you over to Professor Beelzebub's remedial class. That would be a shame, but I'll do what I have to do.

I'd also appreciate it if you'd keep this letter between you, me, and the fencepost. If I see the slightest hint you've leaked this letter for your own benefit, I swear I'll come down on you like a ton of bricks. I've been talking to that Anna Nicole Smith chick - a little ditsy, but she's a lot of fun - and she reminded me that if the press gets wind of this letter, the paparazzi will stick to me like stink on shit. Just remember this George:

You're expendable. I could smite you easier than flicking a booger off my sleeve. Now get back to work and learn to play nice with the other kids before I give you a good swat.

Omnisciently Yours,
God

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Labels: bush, humor, politics

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Friday, March 02, 2007

George Bush and the Holy Grail

Katrina George returned to the Gulf Coast on another listening tour today. Unlike his first visit, 18 months ago, the Commander-in-Chief managed to command Air Force One to actually land this time. Apparently, he's learned it's much easier to listen when you're not zooming by at 10,000 feet and peering through the airplane window. However, I suspect he wasn't listening much at ground level either.

It seems George has forgotten about that southern coast where he loved to go adrinkin' and awhorin' in his pre-Presidential, pre-sobriety years. He says he's just pleased as punch at all the progress being made down there. By golly there's scads of corners being turned, progress being made, and button-busted pride to crow about. However, it seems odd that with all that prideful progress he's curiously forgotten to fly down and say a big howdy since before the mid-terms. He couldn't find a spare paragraph in his State of the Union address for them either.

He's just modest and busy I reckon.

Sorry About the Kitchen!

Today's visit went about like the previous six. He walked amongst the debris remarking on how wonderful it was for people to work hand in hand to bring the Gulf Coast back to its original jumbo, gumbo glory. He clapped a few carefully chosen victims on the back and reminded them how damn lucky they are to live in country where the President is such a commonsense, likable fella he stops by for a cup of coffee in your kitchen - just to say he's damn sorry the kitchen floated away and you can't really afford coffee anyway.

If George is nothing else, he's the eternal optimist. It doesn't matter how disastrous things get, he sees right through those black clouds and basks in the glory of their inner silveriness while letting everyone know they should turn all those frowns upside down.

George's optimism reminds me of the Black Knight - the hapless Monty Python character who doesn't give up the fight even as his foe dismembers him, one appendage at a time.

Oops, There Goes an Arm

"Folks, I'm so glad things is comin' back ta life here on the bayou." WHACK! There goes the first arm.

"I done run them Talibani's right the hell out uh Afghanomistan." SLICE! There goes the other arm.

"And what about the fine, fine job I been doin' in Eye-Raq? That's some fine democracy we got goin' there" CHOP! His knee departs his armless torso in a spray of blood.

As his opponent removes his last leg George says,"Ah think our international relations is workin' right fine. Look how much them Eye-Raniers and Ko-republicans loves us."

Never Give Up

George never gives up the fight. He stands there limbless, covered in blood, and tottering on his stumps while challenging the world to defy his cheeriness. "Everything's fine! I have everything under control! You makes them terrists happy if'n you don't smile ya know!"

And the Knight of NOLA stares at the delusional, bloody, rust bucket and says, "I've searched for the Holy Grail for my entire life. I've always wanted to meet the pivot man in the Axis of Idiocy."

"I guess I can die happy now knowing that I've finished my quest."

Labels: bush, humor, politics

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Thursday, March 01, 2007

The Dogs and Cats Howl

It's raining cats and dogs this morning and all that vicious howling and scratching is the harbinger of a mood as foul as the weather. Each day there is news of another fresh insult to our country - as usual made under the disguise of making us stronger. Each day, the audacity of these assaults becomes more brazen.

For six years we've engaged in a "War on Terror" built on a foundation of quicksand. The drumbeat of division and fear-mongering has made it impossible for the country to move forward. Education, Social Security reform, workable energy policies, and a huge don't tax and spend mentality are only the tip of the globally-warmed iceberg. Meanwhile, Rome burns as George fiddles.

Until recently, his obstinance was mostly based on a fierce, unquestioning political protectorate and a tough Teflon hide. He did and said most anything he pleased because a weak-willed Congress handed his decrees to him on a platter.

Finally, the electorate awoke and spoke at the ballot box. However, George's last true believers are still fiddling with the levers of power and the new electees have only grown a cartilage backbone. It looks like an adult backbone is still a way off, retarded by a shrinking minority who are still clinging to the deck chairs and drinking Kool-Aid cocktails.

What If?

And what if the new legislators had emerged with a fully functioning backbone?

It appears as if it would've made little difference. After the election, he cried out for a new era of bipartisanship even as he poked his opponents in the eye with a stick. He made it abundantly clear that he would defy the wishes of the electorate and Congress and push ahead with his failure of a war anyway.

Stop funding? Feh, nothing but the ramblings of traitorous cowards to be ignored.

Revoke the approval of his war? Doesn't mean a thing.

Challenge his questionable legal measures? He'll simply deny he's breaking the law while assiduously playing a shell game to keep the challenges from coming to court.

Consolidating Power

The War on Terror is bad enough, but he's consolidated his dictatorial power in other troubling ways. He's damaged America's standing and credibility on the world stage. He's laid the foundations of many bad policies that will take years to unravel. He's encouraged the erosion of our economic base to create an astonishingly wide and troubling gulf between the haves and have nots. He has pushed us down the already slippery slope of becoming a country that knows how to a country that knows nothing.

Recently, he's gnawed at the legal underpinnings that might provide a brake on his voracious appetite for control. Despite his frequent criticism of judicial activists, he's called their activism and raised the stakes by firing federal prosecutors who disagree with his positions. He doesn't bother citing justifications for the removals aside from unspecified performance issues. And in one case, even freely admitted the removal was to pave the way for a political crony.

Slow Motion Coup

Far be it to suggest these actions are a slow-motion coup. It isn't fair to accuse him of a conspiracy without proof, but his actions are troubling enough to at least ask the question, "could it be one?" Once, this question would have been laughable. Today, it seems a remote, but somewhat more valid question. After all, many dictatorships started the same way - small changes, one quietly piled atop the other so as not to panic the public. One day, the public awakens to find the levers of government firmly under the dictator's control and the Stockholm Syndrome conversion of them complete.

True, it's far-fetched and probably won't happen. But, the process has gone far enough to be a concern and far enough that someday a dictator may appear and use George's actions as a template for their own slow-motion coup.

And the day that happens the dogs and cats will truly howl up a storm.

Labels: bush, politics

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Sunday, February 25, 2007

Farewell to Emperor Dub

Between ScooterGate, revelations about Iraq, and more political tits caught in a wringer than a pregnant Crawford Hound's, the drum beat for impeachment may not really matter anymore. From firing sitting federal attorneys and installing favored cronies to losing (literally) tons of cash in Iraq, the administration may suffer meltdown like Enron's - implosion via a massive wave of scandals.

The breathtaking scope of our self-styled Emporer's questionable activities will eventually make it impossible for his elite Republican Guard to shield him. Investigation upon investigation will sap what little political strength he and his party can muster and the whole lot of them will slide under the waves whilst still rearranging the deck chairs. Think Dubya as Leonardo DiCaprio...and not the one standing on the Titanic's bow screaming, "I'm King of the World" either.

I think the time needed to actually impeach the Crapweasel-in-Chief is already past. With a year and a half left in his turn, it'll simply be impossible for the wheels of justice to crank up enough speed to wing him out of office through impeachment. However, a series of federal investigations holding the promise of indictable offenses might serve the same purpose. Faced with the very real possibility of a stay at the Federal Hilton, he may elect to leave office by cutting a Nixonian deal rather than trying to outrun the charges.

He won't be alone.

Dick will slink away from his special undisclosed location and a couple dozen aides, enablers, politicos, and assorted other members of the Plumbers Who Couldn't Shoot Straight will be packing their bags too. Some of them will wiggle free, but Scooter may be but a harbinger of things to come. If I was G. Gordon Rove, I'd be sending my prison jumpsuit out for alterations. You can never look too good for your cell-bitch. Just as crimes ala Nixon couldn't be hidden, the crimes of Team Bush can't either. In fact, they'd have been lucky if they had only committed a measly smash and grab. If a broken Watergate door and the theft of some dubiously useful campaign playbooks could bring down a presidency, no telling what will happen when the crimes are truly big.

One thing is for sure - he won't be able to salvage much of anything among the Katrina-stirred havoc of his legacy. He can no sooner escape his shabby treatment of the Constitution than he can spin gold from the basest of Iraqi metals. According to his transcript, the Frat Boy failed that alchemy class back at Yale. It makes one wonder how things would've turned out if he'd spent more time studying and less time cheerleading and drinking.

I'm afraid history won't be kind. It's true they partially rehabilitated Nixon and even gave poor old Warren G. Harding some belated props, but they had managed - against all odds - to actually accomplish something. About all Bushie has done is some mighty fine brushscaping around the cee-ment crappie pond back at the ranch. If the country ever erects a monument to him it will be of a chicken, minus the head - President Foghorn Leghorn as the bronze embodiment of cruel islamofascist justice.

I'll actually be relieved if the nation gets to skip another impeachment. They aren't very satisfying and the most guilty usually get a pass for agreeing to take that long, last helicopter ride into historical oblivion. Better that we skip that divisive spectacle and just concentrate on punishing the guilty. Even if the Lunkhead-in-Chief plea bargains himself out of his imperial throne, I'll still be happy that at least some of the mid-level Chuck Colsons will get to brush up on their scripture as guests of the most convenient Bastille Federal. The vision of a quaint Tony "Speedy" Gonzales warms the cockles of my heart.

At this point, I'd happily accept only that vision. To dream of too much is only a false hope.

Labels: bush, politics

Truth Told by Omnipotent Poobah, Wednesday, February 07, 2007