GEORGED

Just when I think it can't get any more absurd, it does. Is it a full moon? Could it be that all hallow's eve is upon us? Perhaps the literati are channeling Ionesco and Kafka? Or is there some sort of planetary alignment tilting the world off its axis? Maybe the WMD have been found?

Let's begin at the beginning: last Sunday, a day of rest. Woke-up. Got Nathan, our son, out of bed. Returned to Mommy & Daddy's room for a bit. Watched a kids' show on PBS--you know, the network that Maggie Spellings, U.S. Secretary of Education, who's no more qualified than a substitute teacher, attacked with a "heckuva" of a punch. Went downstairs. Got the papers. Ate breakfast. Made sure Nathan was set with his Thomas the tank engine train set in the family room. Moved to the living room. Turned on ABC's This Week. Lo and behold: George and George.

As I was enjoying my third cup of coffee and a rather delicious apple crumb muffin, George asked George about the rhetoric of "stay the course." And George replied: "We've never been 'stay the course,' George!" I gagged. Muffin flew all over the place. Coffee splattered onto the paper. Nathan came to the rescue. Thomas derailed off the track, and so did his friends. Amy asked if I was alright. And I replied--to the TV, not to Amy: You've got to be kidding me?

If you haven't been conscious this week, let me drag you out of zombiezone. Our commander-in-denial, George W., appeared for a one-on-one interview last Sunday with George Stephanopoulos on ABC's This Week. Yes, a bit of a shocker since W. has been in huddles lately with the right wing echo chamber, including their cultural saint, Pill O'Shitty. Back to George and George. What seemed to be a routine interview took a most absurd turn when George asked George about the "stay the course" rhetoric, and George, well, flat out denied it. Granted, we've all backstroked or butterflied in the river denial, but George just bellyflopped into it like the fratboy he is. Hence, my spitup routine and Thomas flying off the tracks. Poor Thomas!

For sure, I thought that team Bush would throw W. a safety tube. No, not a chance. Instead, on Monday morning, captain Snow dived right off--no pun intended--the bridge of parsing, and virtually said the same thing, thus creating such waves that the blogosphere erupted with all sorts of commentary.

While I was still thinking about that yummy apple crumb muffin, I also thought that within a 24 hour news cycle, the media would've had this framed, settled, and doublespoke: "what he meant was 'stay the course' as a philosophy, not as the overall strategy and tactics. So we can argue this point, but this president is serious about the war against reality--oops--I mean, terroism." But no. Monday evening came, and so did more absurdity.

Like a recurring figure from Greek literature that creates all kinds of havoc, George reappears, and in my neck of the woods. That's George Stephanopoulos. He comes to SE CT to moderate the Lamont--Oedipus Lieberman--Cool Hand Al show-- debate. A routine political event quickly turned into a hybrid performance--Kabuki Theater meets Greek Tragedy meets Last Comic Standing. It was priceless: part debate; part transparent candidate preference on Mark Davis's part--that asshole; part unsolicited audience participation on behalf of the LaRouche Choir that responded to poor, tragic Joe; and a whole lot of comedy provided by Al. The most priceless moment, though, in my mind, was when Ol' Joe disavowed himself from "stay the course." Sunday collapsed into Monday. Absurdity rebounded: I was in a Kafka story. Thomas was tooting in the family room; the LaRouche choir harmonizing wouldn't leave my head; the apple crumb smell came back and made me hungry once again; and the shockwaves of denial flooded from my television quicker than a poltergeist.

What was it? Was it a sign of things to come? Was this the October surprise? Did aliens usurp my body to use it as a host? Should we all revisit Ionesco and Kafka to find the answers? Or could it be that I had been georged?