It’s been a beautiful week, hasn’t it? The weather has been nice, temperatures are rising, and old man winter seems to have finished his gig. Too bad ol’ Chimpy hasn’t finished his.
If you tried to keep up with all the scandals, the “masking” of real news with fake news, and the rising tensions in Iran, you’d quickly realize that while the weather gets nicer, things in D.C. get uglier by the minute and most Americans are undoubtedly unconscious.
I myself started getting the heebie-jeebies when Secretary of No Education Maggie Spellings told Dana Perino, the deputy White House Press Secretary, who must fill-in for Tony Snow, that she should “Put [her] big-girl panties on." What could Maggie mean? Is she, too, into some sort of kink like other White House folks, in the spirit of Jeff Gannon-Guckert—you know: the gay prostitute who was a part of the White House Press Corps? Or are these Maggie’s sincere words of endearment? Maybe Maggie is beefing up her resumé as a hallmark greeting card writer? Or perhaps this is Maggie’s way of acknowledging that just like American students’ test scores, No Child Left Behind is in the toilet. In any case, Maggie’s brilliance once again had me envisioning the apocalypse.
But what really put me over the edge, though, was Rove the Rapper. WTF? Has the The Big K been reading 1% More Conscious? Was he a fan of “The Hollow Men?” Wishful thinking—I know, I know, I know. But, man, with Maggie Spidiot cheering and The Big K frontin’, I definitely saw the horsemen of the apocalypse comin’. So I did a little diggin’, some readin’, and a whole lot of thinkin’ to find that things are really fubar’d, or at least so they seem.
After listening to Karl Sampson say he couldn’t remember/recollect a thing, including whether or not he took a dump the morning of his testimony, only an idiot wouldn’t recognize that team Bush has grossly and unethically handled the justice department. Saudia Arabia, one of our few friends in the Middle East, has openly criticized our operations in Iraq and in the rest of the Middle East. Gas prices are once again soaring. The Iranians have captured members of the British navy, and the Internets (s intended and dedicated to: Chimpy) is abuzz with the prospect of a bombing campaign in Iran on April 6th known as Operation Bite. And poor Pat Tillman’s mother suspects that he was actually murdered because he became increasingly vocal against Chimpy’s war once he was in Iraq.
Meanwhile, most Americans are oozing out of March Madness, dealing with their taxes, and/or figuring out how to finance their kids’ college education now that most acceptance letters are out. Yet we are being informed about Marie Osmond’s divorce (who gives a shit?) and Courtney Love’s new body (yeah, she’s switched from heroin to other drugs). You’ve got to be kidding me?
So when Maggie talks about big-girl panties and The Big K has two turntables and a microphone, you know where it’s at: like the film American Beauty reveals about our culture, things are much, much uglier than what they seem.