It's worth celebrating that exactly a year from today we will have a new Chief Executive. Unfortunately, it's also worth mourning that we still have another 365 days of this dildo.But, no, I mispeak. A dildo is a harmless instrument made of wood, plastic or metal capable, in the right hands, of providing innocent pleasure. This miserable bastard may well be the most malicious, ignorant and troublesome occupant of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue since Buchanan or possibly Franklin Pierce, who provides pleasure to no one but the wretched C.H.U.D.s that populate the proto-hominid (a.k.a "Cheney") wing of the Republican Party.
I have lived through some pretty pathetic excuses for "leadership" in the past seven years. I can ever remember Bush the Daddy's weaselly single term, Reagan's amnesiac tenure in the Oval Office, Carter attacked by a rabbit...Christ, we've had some pathetic excuses for Presidents lately, eh? Reminds me of the old joke about the difference between the U.S. Army and the Boy Scouts?
Boy Scouts have adult leadership.
But the lamest thing I've seen emerge, blinking, from the Office of the POTUS in a long time was this idiotic parade through the Middle East.
I was skeptical at the time of the Annapolis Conference that the Bush Administration would actually be able to accept a "win" if it couldn't dictate the exact terms. Pat Lang spells this out better here. And, sure enough, the combination of Dubya's typical short-bus-level inattention to detail and Dark Lord Cheney's utter subserviance to whatever crackpot expansionist Likud policy is being supported in Tel Aviv managed to ensure that whatever happened in Annapolis - as the saying goes about Las Vegas - stayed in Annapolis.
For all the recent hipwriggling little victory dances the Iraq war lovers have been doing in the wake of the dampened fighting actuated by the "surge", the utter lack of results from Dopey McFlightsuit's recent peregrination through the Middle East surely points out the difference between our capacities there today and where we were fifty years ago.In 1956, Dwight Eisenhower called off a Middle East war. That's right. Flat out called out his French and British chumlies and told them to put their little soldiers back in the box. And Israel? Back to the Negev, Moshe, and be thankful we don't cut off your supply of Sherman main gun rounds...
Now we couldn't get four Arab soldiers to follow us to a brothel. Bush begged for a little more cheap gas; the Saudi oil minister told him, in effect, I got your cheap gas right here, jackass. The Deciderer's speech in Dubai, greeted with yawns of enthusiasm by his Arab hosts, was more of the usual balloon juice about "freedom" and "democracy" spoken from a podium in a land where women still can't drive and the "government" is whatever the Emir is whack about that morning. As well as more of his usual craven cozying up to Pharoah Mubarak I and his other aristocratic pals in Saudi and Jordan. I mean, we have to deal with these guys, I get it. But does W have to act like he's been pantingly tongue-kissing them out behind the VIP foyer? Ewwww...
Let's not forget the Bicycle Chief's commitment to the Israeli-Palestinian peace process, so vividly shown by the twenty minutes he spent in the Occupied Territories shaking hands with the Palestinian officialdom with the other hand over his wallet...
The thermonuclear - excuse me, nucular - level of political moronity this man has presided over during the past seven years would seem implausible if written as a novel or seen in a film. And we still have another year of this B-picture to sit through, unless the American political class unexpectedly grows the integrity to impeach the skeevy SOB and rescue the reputation of our republic.
I'm not counting on it.