February 01, 2006


Bush Jumpstarts the Alternative Energy Movement...

...with His Own Hot Air Demonstration

By Daniel Patrick Welch

When Gore Vidal endorsed last nights demonstrations against Bushs ridiculous
I-am-the-state theatrical stunt, he added the pithy comment: Go back to
Crawford&. Well help raise the money for a library, and youll never even ever
have to read a book. As always, Vidal has perfectly framed the argument for
resistance to this anti-intellectual, anti-science, anti-thought, anti-agenda.
And while the networks and pundits and media shills gawk and preen and profit
off the spectacle of this horrific failure, this loser in the most profound
sense of the term, this puppet plutocrat who brings nothing to the table except
for his legendary ability to drink everyone under it"an as-yet-unindicted war
criminal with more blood on his hands than the tyrants from whom he liberates
the world in the name of (and at the direction of) his Lord and Savior"we must
make our own noise, in the name of the unnumbered and unidentified dead whose
corpses pave the way to Heaven for Bush and his psychopathic band of theocrats.

For as hard as it is to say, Bush is beside the point. As powerful as he is
despised, he still has an awesome power to destroy and an unquenched thirst for
dominion. But while Bush may be a laughable idiot, his rise to Inherent
Authority could not happen without the complicity of what Irish revolutionaries
of yore referred to as traitors and slaves. Every War Party needs fellow
travelers, and Bush and his coterie have plenty. Just yesterday, the Democratic
leadership in congress surpassed even itself in capitulation, a talent at
which it has excelled for some time.

If you wasted the time to watch the circus (I only do it because I love you,
Dear Readers), then you are obviously part of the problem: no one should dignify
this fraud of a presidency by validating the notion that he has something to
say. The world has long since stopped listening, and only the sycophant U.S.
press gave The Leader of the Free World the stagecrafted, self-serving free
advertising to which the far right feels entitled from the liberal press. Bush
entered this farcical pageant at the lowest point of any postwar president since
Nixon, and is fast catching up to the crook.

Brave souls were treated to the usual lies, exaggerations, distortions and
demagoguery, as ol Ronnie would say. But a few brazen nuggets stand out: it was
refreshing, in a perverse sort of way, to hear the biggest recipient of
political oil money on the face of the earth rail against special interests.
Were addicted to oil! Says the oilmonger. We must guard against the tendency to
centralize power in Washington, says the Unitary Executive. We need to seek
bipartisan solutions, says the man behind the curtain of the most ruthless
rubber stamp congress in memory, who shuts out the opposition in closed
conferences at which major revisions to legislation are decided. When he started
in on affordable health care, I had to leave the room to throw up; there is a
limit to the pain I can take even for the sake of a column. Thankfully, I was in
the bathroom when The Man Who Makes Us Safer introduced Justice Alito, the
living, breathing symbol of the end of constitutional government in the U.S.

Its nice to see that hes still reaching out to Black folks, I guess; maybe a
sign that hes in as much trouble as we think he is, seeing that 100% of
African-Americans in a recent Zogby poll (Im not kidding) are unconvinced. But
seriously, folks, we are in deep shit. The fact that this charade could take
place at all without a self-respecting opposition walking out on a muppet who
arrogates to himself the inherent authority to piss on them is yet another
sign that the Reichstag fire has come and gone.

Democrats are too complicit, too timid, too stuck in a past in which one wing
of their own party was among the greatest terrorist organizations in human
history. The War Party has mastered the Election: Mark Crispin Miller argues
that tampering and memory card chicanery engineered a switch of eight million
votes in 2004. Too bought-and-sold to save even themselves, it would be a true
miracle if the carcass of the party could convince Americans that it can save
the country and swing control of the legislative branch in November.

But George Orwell may have been right: If there is hope, it lies in the
proles. Of course, by his own prose, it proved a misplaced hope, but lets stick
with the slogan. The highlight of my evening was not typing this as I listened
to the Joker-in-Chief spin a new web of lies: prior to the speech, we
interrupted our little gathering to stand outside in the frigid New England air
and drown out the noise, as the organizers suggested. Holding signs reading
Impeach Bush, Drown out the Lies, and peace, our hapless little band
garnered more attention than we have ever felt for another cause or candidate.
Is it too late? Or is there an undercurrent sweeping the country, sick of being
told how to be American by the pimps and whores whose assets are safely stowed
in the Cayman Islands or in a secret Swiss account, or in the greedy, bloody
hands of some transnational oil borg. Screw you. We are citizens of the world,
and the world is fed up.


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