Archive of entries posted on February 2003

“Great” Girl Responds

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Hey, I’m still here! I’ll return to my regular daily updating next week. To tide you over some more, check out this week’s Carnival of the Vanities for more blogging goodness.
Also, Dopegirl sent a reponse to my e-mail. In the interest of balance, I thought I’d share.

Dear Ignorant Sir,
Thank you for misconstruing my point.
I wasn’t implying that anarchism and socialism are one in
the same. I was trying to say that both ideologies would
employ armed revolution for their causes. Anarchism,
popularly misconceived as disorder and chaos, is a
political system based on community organization and the
dismantling of national government. No, it doesn’t lead
to rampant troublemakers having ‘no rules’ to hold them
down. Socialism also involves the reditribution of power
to the people, but the state structure, which is reworked,
is left in place.
You seem to underestimate the power of the exploited
peoples in capitalist society. Look at the Zapatistas,
the EZLN, of Mexico. They are a peasant-based indigenous
group that’s been robbed of their land and culture for the
sake of capitalist development. They are sparsely armed,
but have successfully countered the Mexican army. They
have set goals and will either achieve them or die.
Desperation fuels rebellion. The comfortable business
elite have little to no experience with exploitation or
desperation (unless it involves the accumulation of the
material possessions neccessary to portray their affluent
image).
Who do you think would win in a fight? Who ever has less
to lose. In my opinion, the exploited have the ability to
go fuckin’ nuts.
A lot of anti-war skeptics don’t believe that protests
will make any difference. Maybe not directly, but, if the
popular national opinion (as in Britain) is against war
and the government decides invade Iraq anyway, the true
nature of democratic society will be exposed. As more
people see the government’s lack of accountability to it’s
citizens, the more they will question the order of
society. And the anti-capitalist movement will grow. Are
people like you so ignorant and self-possessed to think
that capitalism is the best form of social organization?
European feudal society was eventually overturned because
it was unfair and unequal. It’s only a matter of time
until capitalism realizes the same fate.
Dope*girl
(*slang for “great”, as in “that’s a ‘dope’ song”)

I have to agree, once we slaughter the oppressed people with our advanced weaponry and military tactics developed by our capitalistic society, we’ll probably say, “Wow, those guys went fuckin’ nuts.”
Have a great weekend, everyone.

In My World: Happy Children Equals Angry Rumsfeld

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Saddam challenged Bush to a debate, and he readily accepted. The start of the Bush-Saddam debate was quite rocky, with Saddam making objections to the format early on.
“Bush has a bat!” Saddam exclaimed, “No one said he could bring a baseball bat!”
“Uh-uh,” Bush responded, “I said I was going to wear a cowboy hat and carry a baseball bat for the debate, and you said it was okay.”
“I remember agreeing to the cowboy hat… but not the bat. You’re going to use that to break my kneecaps!”
“That’s crazy talk! You’re a crazy dictator! All that comes out of your mouth is crazy.” Bush then started up an electric razor.
“Now he’s got a electric shaver!” Saddam yelled, “He’s going to break my knee caps and then shave off my mustache as a trophy!”
“You really should be named Crazy McCrazy, you crazy dictator,” Bush responded indignantly, “When you talk, all you do is heap crazy upon crazy.”
“In Saddam’s defense, President Bush,” piped in the debate’s moderator, Jim Lehrer, “You do have a box labeled ‘Trophy Saddam Mustache’ sitting next to you, and you did just open it as if you’re anticipating placing a trophy Saddam mustache inside it.”
“That box is just a good luck charm I was given by my father. Can’t we get on with the debate?”
“Okay. You get the first opening statement, President Saddam.”
“Fine.” Saddam pulled out some index cards. “You imperialist Yankee scum, why do you oppress – AHH! MY KNEECAPS!”
In other war news, Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld appears to be growing more and more impatient with the delays over an attack on Iraq. Close associates describe his anger as “great” and his wrath as “terrible”.
“These are pictures of happy Iraqis,” Rumsfeld said as he showed some slides of an Iraqi family sitting down for dinner and smiling children playing in the streets. “Do you know what happy Iraqis mean?” Rumsfeld asked the clueless reporters. He paused a moment so they could stare back at him like deer trapped in headlights. “It means THEY ARE NOT BEING BOMBED!” He put up new slides of the ceiling collapsing on the family and children running from explosions in terror. “These are artists renderings of what the Iraqis should look like. These are pictures of glorious war.”
“Isn’t one of the reasons for war with Iraq to help the Iraqi people?” ventured one of the reporters.
“WHAT!” Rumsfeld yelled, “That’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard. Who gave you such a idiotic notion?” He then pointed an accusing finger at National Security Advisor Condoleezza Rice. “Was it you?”
“Oh, come on, Donald,” Rice sighed, “I was just telling you this morning how much I hate Iraqi children.”
“I know. It must have been the nancy-boy Colin Powell.” Rumsfeld shook his fist in the air. “He wants to do nothing but coddled the enemy. Do you know he approved bombing of just one of the five orphanages I had on my list? If he were here, I could just strangle him!” He then eyed the reporter you asked the question. “Maybe I’ll just strangle you instead!” He grabbed the reporter by the neck, but dropped him after a second. “It’s just not the same.”
“Why are you so anxious to get to war?” asked a frustrated reporter, “Don’t you worry about all the uncertainties?”
Rumsfeld rolled his eyes. “Everything is an uncertainty. How can I be certain this gun is loaded?” He then pulled out his luger and shot the reporter. “Guess it was loaded… but can I be certain it’s still loaded?” He looked at the reporter lying on the ground. “Hey, I asked you a question! For pete’s sake, reporters these days don’t know how to take a bullet. I once saw Teddy Roosevelt shoot a reporter five times, and the guy still came back with a follow up question.”
Rumsfeld’s eyes grew distant. “Of course, we were all tougher back then, because, at any moment, a press conference could be broken up by a Mongol horde. I remember that’s how my eighth birthday party ended, everyone fleeing as sword wielding Mongols cut at our party hats. After a horse hoof destroyed my cake before I even got to blow out the candles, I vowed that day I would see all the Mongols dead.” A small tear fell from his eye. “Ah, the innocence of youth.” Rumsfeld then regained his composition. “Any other questions?”
“You scare me,” remarked a reporter.
“That’s not a question, but very perceptive of you. Now, I believe Dr. Rice had some new hardware to tell you about.”
On screen appeared a giant mech armed to the teeth. Also, an American flag was prominently painted on its front. “We call this our War Machine,” Rice explained, “It stands at about ten stories tall. You’ll notice we’ve drawn a hapless foreigner about to be crushed by its foot to give it scale. Its function will be to smash through villages, crushing buildings as it blares ‘God Bless America’ on its giant speakers. This is all part of our effort to make lesser cultures fear America in the same way they would fear the gods.”
“Who would drive such a monstrosity?”
“No one. It has a programmed AI to make sure it only attacks the enemy.”
“Are you sure it won’t some day turn against us?” asked a reporter, looking frightened.
“The two programmers who hacked out the code over a weekend long programming marathon assured me that would never happen.” Rice smiled for a moment, but then heard a beeping sound. She pulled a PDA out of her pocket and looked at the screen. “Apparently the War Machine has gone berserk and destroyed most of Massachusetts. Those programmers better pay me back for the box of chocolate donuts I gave them.”
“Actually, I told the War Machine to do that,” Rumsfeld said, “I hate Massachusetts. So did it get all the Kennedys?”
Rice checked the PDA. “No, it says here that Ted Kennedy escaped.”
“We’ll have to take him down ourselves. Get me my Ted Kennedy gun.”
Rice opened the gun cabinet that Rumsfeld always had on hand at his press conferences. She pulled out a large rifle. “Is this it?”
“No! That little thing is an elephant gun. I need something that can bring down a Ted Kennedy.”
She then took out an even larger rifle and handed it to Rumsfeld. “Here you go.”
Rumsfeld smiled. “The hunt is on.”
In unrelated news, Ted Kennedy, his natural habitat destroyed, is roaming the countryside confused and angry. Reports are that he’s ransacking households, looking for food to consume and money to steal for liberal boondoggles. One area man reported that his liquor cabinet was completed decimated. Police warn that Ted Kennedy is crazed and extremely liberal and that no one should accept a ride home from him under any circumstances.

Frank Loves Comments

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Sometimes people comment on really old posts, and Moveable type will tell me the most recent comments (but not the @#$% post the person commented to). I found this one today on this old post, and thought I’d share.

What kind of elitist bullshit is this?
Just because protestors are against a war in Iraq does not mean they’re “hippies” or “pacifists”. You’re simply echoing the assumptions of the mainstream media. Many of these anti-war protestors are willing to get rid of greedy capitalist motherfuckers “by any means neccessary”. These anarchists and socialists have the imagination needed to see another, less exploitative world order, unlike people like you who keep your heads so firmly planted in people’s asses that you can’t see what’s actually going on. Unlike most protestors, who are educated and informed on global issues, you have no credibility to speak of. Here’s your wake-up call – capitalism isn’t working for the majority. And the majority ain’t gonna take it forever. If I were a member of the elite minority, I’d be afraid.

It’s signed by “dopegirl” and she left an e-mail address, so I thought I’d send back a response.

Dear Crazy Person,
Thank you for your insight. We certainly are all now well aware that our guns and tanks are no match for you and your dope friends’ “imagination”. Thus, we, the elite minority, have decided to heed you wake-up call and dismantle our capitalistic system, replacing it with a combination of anarchy and socialism… actually, aren’t those like the opposite of each other? I guess I’ll just choose one. I think I’ll choose anarchy because I really liked those Mad Max movies.
In conclusion, if you run into me on some desolate highway in the near future, make sure to identify yourself as “Dopegirl” so I know not to kill you for your Gasoline.
Cordially,
Frank J.

Anyway, Rumsfeld is coming tomorrow, and I’ll do my best to make it worth the light posting this week.

Bad News

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I just go on a a week long hiatus (thank you to Laurence Simon for filling in some of that dead air with his Blog A Day tour), and I find now that Rachel Lucas is on an indefinite one. She’s definitely one of the top ten bloggers out there, and will be greatly missed (especially be me).
I will have a Rumsfeld post on Wednesday, but I probably won’t have time to write something before then. To compensate, though, Bill Whittle has a new essay out. As usual, it’s good beyond my ability at prose to describe it, so check it now.
Also, the debate continues to rage about whether to bomb france. Remember, IMAO is your number one google hit for “bomb france”.

The death of legends and myth

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(Don’t look now, but it’s the Amish Tech Support Blog A Day Tour!)
Dr. Weevil (who doesn’t seem to ping weblogs.com, the naughty naughty man), strikes a chord with something in his Misleading Geography post:

Endless Mountain Region
Next 6 Exits

When was the last time you heard of some geographical feature being endless?
When was the last time somebody talked about being tossed in a bottomless pit?
When was the last time you heard of someone going outside exploring for a fountain of youth instead of looking for it in a science lab?
Even the “endless” pasta bowl at the Olive Garden is just a metaphor, you know. They just keep bringing you different bowls. It’s not like there’s The Well of Pasta in the back room where they lower buckets, make a wish, and pull up your dinner. (There’s a separate well for bringing up the sauces, by the way)
We have minded the legends out of our world, and there are no more myths left in the veins of our history. Movies, television shows, and books now provide artificial legends and myths, like a once-proud wild animal receiving Purina Endangered Species Chow at the zoo while a parade of snot-nosed primates walk past and gawk.
When man finally gets the opportunity to explore other worlds, will his sense of wonder and fear lead to a new age of serpents roaming the maps of the seas and thoughts of demons beyond the vast walls he builds to protect his spreading empires? For this, we must explore beyond our world, because without legends and myths to lure us into the future, our species will truly perish.

Link of the Days

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BTW, here is something to check out while I’m not posting if you want more humor.

Yuri Foxworthy

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I’m going to be real busy this next week, so there may be a shortage of free ice cream. I’ll try to come up with a new Rumsfeld post on Wednesday, though, unless everyone is tired of those 🙂
Anyway, so as to thank my readers and not leave you empty handed, here is something I wrote a long time ago (I believe Freshman year in college, so either in ’97 or ’98). See if you can come up with any additions.

Because of the end of the Cold War, much of the focus on Communism has ended, and thus many people are now ignorant of exactly what is. Some people may even be Communists and not even know it. So, for the benefit of all, I present this helpful list of the symptoms of Communism.
You might be a Communist if…
…when you were five you asked Santa for a pony, a teddy bear, and a dictatorship of the proletariat.
…a troop of Boy Scouts earned their merit badge for defending democracy by kicking your ass.
…you ever wonder aloud, “I bet we could pay more in taxes.”
…you prefer small, fuel-efficent cars.
…you wish to end the embargo on Cuba for any other reason than that you like Cuban cigars.
…you’re lazy and want to get paid for it.
…you prefer red grapes to green.
…every conversation your in moves to the subject of the dissolution of private property.
…your name is Richard Gephardt.
…you sympathized with the villains in 80’s action films.
…as a child you admired the structure of the Smurf society.
…you’re for the metric system.
…you think that religion is the opiate of the people, and, besides, you prefer marijuana.
…you don’t mind being poor and miserable as long as everyone else is equally so.
…you read Animal Farm and admired the sheep’s loyalty.
…the mention of the name “Reagan” causes you pangs of fear.
…you thinks warts are a distinguishing feature.
…you’ve been offended by much of this.
…every time you walk into a room, people shout, “Hey! There’s that dirty Commie!”
…you’re stupid and evil.
…every time you speak, you piss me off. (also a symptom of environmentalism, feminism, socialism, gun control advocacy, being a Democrat, and general stupidity)
Remember: the only good Commie is a dead Commie.

Links of the Day

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John Hawkins has some great advice for anyone thinking of making a blog. My advice: don’t make a blog; just read mine.
Bigwig has joined the anti-war movement. Fight the power!
Chaos Overlord wants to start a Rumsfeld fan club. Maybe it could have a decoder ring!
Everyone hates Molly Ivins!

Frank Suggestions on U.N. Resolutions

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War with Iraq still seems like a distant dream; it’s hard to believe it will ever happen. Everything we do seems to bring us closer to finally killing Saddam and stealing his oil, but it’s like asymptotic approach where war still always be just beyond our reach. Well the U.S. and it’s trusty sidekick Great Britain are going to give the push to war another try, drafting a resolution to the U.N. that gives Saddam a deadline before we own his ass. I have a few suggestions, though, to make it extra resolute.
First of all, use lots of exclamation points. Exclamation points are much more threatening than periods (and tons more threatening than question marks). Also, using lots of big, fancy words like “asymptotic” can also be intimidating. Most importantly, make sure its worded in such a way that we can still bomb Iraq even if Saddam does everything we ask; if we don’t get to bomb Iraq, that would just be horrible beyond words.
The problem, though, is getting the U.N. Security Council to accept the resolution. Some may want to hold their decision until March 1, when Hans Blix is scheduled to make his next presentation. So, if it’s not already obvious enough, that means we need to kidnap Hans Blix and throw him down a well. Then all that’s left is convincing the members of the Security Council. I’d say our best bet is to make sure our diplomats to the U.N are large and scary looking. This way, other diplomats may worry that our people will hurt them if they don’t do what the U.S. wants. This feeling can be added to by having our diplomats announce on the U.N. floor, “Do what the U.S. wants or we will hurt you.”
The main holdouts to worry about are France, Russia, and China. For France, just grab their diplomat by the head and pound it into the table. This will make him hurt and scared, and thus he’ll do whatever we tell him. The Russian won’t be so easily intimidated, because they have their Russian mob. A good old-fashioned bribe should work nicely. Lastly, there is China, the evil Commies, and the way to handle Commies is to kill them. Just have our diplomats pull out a gun and shoot the Chinese dead. Being dead counts as abstaining on a vote. Some may worry about us doing this, but, remember, we’re the United States of America, and we can do whatever the hell we want. The only reason we’re going through the U.N. must be because we get some sort of sick pleasure from pretending the opinions of other countries matter.
BTW, is there some blog celebration planned for when we finally get our war? If not, there should be or we can hardly call ourselves warbloggers.

Links of the Day

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Carnival of the Vanities #22 is up at The People’s Republic of Seabrook.
Emperor Misha I now has merchandise.
Alex Knapp has the scoop on the Belgium diamond heist.
Tiffany fisks some privacy nuts who are overly paranoid about Google. I define a privacy nut as someone who doesn’t realize that the biggest protection of their privacy – better than any encryption or security scheme – is that no one cares to know anything about them.

In My World: Somewhere There is a Very Angry Universe with Two Belgiums

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“Impudent nations!” French President Jacques Chirac exclaimed at a press conference in his stronghold. He was greatly angered by the east European candidates for EU membership who issued pro-American statements and wished nothing more than to chide them publicly. “What you have done goes against the views of France, the most civilized nation of all! You must shut up if you wish to join the EU of which France declares itself leader!”
“We have an intruder!” screamed his head of security. “He’s described as an angry looking old man.”
“Must be that fool Rumsfeld!” Chirac responded, “Well, we’re prepared for him! Send out the assault force!” Armed troops quickly rushed out of the press conference. “Now you die Rumsfeld!” Chirac exclaimed, “No one keeps me from being extremely rude and arrogant! No one!” Chirac then laughed in an evil and effeminate way.
He turned back to the press. “Now where was I? Oh yes… Silly little nations! How dare you defy France, the pinnacle of humanity! We’re too smart and sophisticated to fight in any wars. We just surrender and wait for everything to turn out all right in the end. America and their infantile talk about good and evil, morality, and justice will mess up the sophisticated business ventures we have with Saddam.”
Automatic gunfire sounded nearby. It lasted a few seconds, and then silence. Chirac smiled. “Pierre,” he said into his radio, “I assume Rumsfeld is no more.”
“Pierre’s not available right now,” answered a familiar voice.
“This press conference is over!” Chirac yelled and then fled. He entered a secure room with one entrance and took a machine gun off the wall.
“‘Old Europe’, eh?” he said to himself as he pointed the gun at the door “Well, we’ll see who outlives who.” He heard noise outside and then pulled the trigger. Laughing wildly, he unloaded the gun at the door, turning the wall in front of him into swiss cheese. When the gun clicked empty, he crept forward, but stopped when he saw a bright light shining through the bullet holes.
A Buick crashed through wall, flinging Chirac backwards. Through the dust and the bright headlights, he could see the figure of Donald Rumsfeld walking towards him.
“Don’t hurt me! I surrender!” Chirac squealed as he tried to squirm away.
Rumsfeld grabbed him by his collar and lifted him into the air.
“I’m just an impotent Frenchman!” Chirac pleaded, “My country is old and irrelevant. You gain nothing from harming me!”
Rumsfeld just stared at him.
“You can invade Iraq! I support that now! You can invade any country you want and we’ll cheer you on! You can even invade us! Well put up more of fight than we did with the Germans so it’s not too boring for your troops.”
Rumsfeld squinted.
“Please. I have a wife and children and a mistress. They’re the ones saying bad things about you! Kill them!”
Rumsfeld tightened his grip.
“What do you want?” Chirac cried.
“My pen.”
“What!?”
“Last time I was here, I left a pen.”
Chirac looked to his side to see a cardboard box labeled “Lost and Found” on a table next to him. He reached in and pulled out a metal pen. “Is this it?”
“That’s it.” Rumsfeld took the pen and dropped Chirac on the ground. He then got back in his Buick.
“Nice seeing you again, Rumsfeld!” Chirac called to him as he drove away. “Come back any time! I love America!”

“So can we expect war soon?” asked a reporter.
“Jesus Christ, I hope so,” National Security Advisor Condoleezza Rice answered, “The troops are restless, and they’re running out of desert rats to shoot while they wait.”
“We’ve heard Donald Rumsfeld has taken his vacation in France. Seems an odd choice given all the recent controversy.”
“If Rumsfeld wanted you to know about his vacation, he would have told you about it himself,” Rice said with annoyance. “Anyway, on to the tech demos.” On screen behind her appeared a picture of a small electronic device with a drill. “This is a special projectile that homes onto a targets head, slowly drills into his skull, and then explodes. Honestly, it offers no tactical advantage over just shooting a target with normal bullets, but we all thought it was pretty cool and can’t wait to see it work on some actual enemy combatants. By the way, if someone has a use for a dozen headless monkeys, talk to me after the press conference.”
“Wouldn’t a weapon like that violate the Geneva convention?” asked a disgusted looking reporter.
“The what?” Rice asked, appearing confused. She pressed a button on her remote and the picture on screen changed to show a new, extremely complex looking device. “This new weapon twists the space-time continuum to completely remove its target from existence.”
“What do you say to scientist who warn that use of this device could destroy the universe?”
“Current theories say that there are at least millions of different universes,” Rice responded, “So losing one or two of them isn’t of much concern. Anyway, we’ve found a nice isolated place to test this out.”
In unrelated news, Belgium seems to be missing, completely having disappeared from the face of the earth. Investigators can’t say exactly how long it has been gone since no one has really paid much attention to it.

Links of the Day

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Charles Austin wonders what it would be like if the U.N. model were applied to other things.
Loretta analyses the club trampling incident.
Mean Mr. Mustard has a couple of great images: Reasonable protestors. Honest protest sign.
I found an old post of mine still has a pretty active comment section, as it is the number one google hit for “bomb france”. I actually own the bombfrance.com URL and had thought about setting up an online signature to have the United States Military bomb France. Hadn’t had much time to look into yet, but there does seem to be a demand for it now.

Kwazy Kowea

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While we wait (and wait and wait) for inevitable war with Iraq, North Korea is still trying to crazy their way to our attention. Now they are claiming they can beat us in a nuclear war.

“In the North Korea-U.S. nuclear standoff, which the world is watching with sweating hands, we were always ultra-hardline and that ultra-hardline response is the response of the mighty army-first policy. The victory in the nuclear conflict is ours and the red flag of the army-first policy will flutter ever more vigorously.”

So I gather that this magical “army-first policy” is supposed to keep them from being vaporized. Don’t they understand that they might actually be more threatening if they said something that wasn’t quite as ludicrous?
“We will show those evil imperialist Americans by killing maybe two or three of their soldiers before they complete obliterate us!”
Now there is a threat I could buy. We don’t want to loose two or three troops, so that might influence us to move cautiously. Instead of using threats like that, though, North Korea keeps coming off like a little ant that has walked up to a man and started screaming, “I will kill you and burn down your house and you are powerless against me!”
Still, maybe there is something to this “Hey, look at me! I’m crazy!” strategy that I just don’t realize. The only problem is that North Korea is running out of ways to looks even crazier. So, to help out, here are some suggestions.
TOP TEN WAY NORTH KOREA COULD LOOK EVEN CRAZIER
10. Have Kim Jong Il upgrade his poofy hair to full afro.
9. Have announcements of threats to America followed with a song and dance number.
8. Claim we got it all wrong and that they’re actually South Korea.
7. Put squirrels on trial for being America spies.
6. Tie a giant rubber band between two trees and claim they are now invulnerable to American missiles.
5. To determine their next leader, hold a contest to find who is most goofy looking; appoint Jimmy Carter as leader.
4. Announce threats to America in perfect Klingon.
3. In speech where Kim Jong Il gets angry at America, finish the speech by smearing his face with green paint and pretending he turned into the Hulk.
2. In show of strength, nuke selves.
And the number one way for North Korea to appear even crazier…
Ally with France and Germany.

Links of the Day

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Useful fools joined in the counter-demonstration to the Communist sponsored Phoenix, Arizona protest.
The most awesome poster I have ever seen.
Dustbury tries to out do me in the humor department. I shall crush him like I wil eventually crush Scott Ott.
And here is how Republican I am.
Pure Evil
How Republican Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
The test is rigged, but I got the results I wanted.

In My World: Benevolent Bush Does Not Slaughter Protestors

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Hundreds of thousands of Commie Pinko anti-American retards took the streets world-wide Saturday thinking that if people see how a bunch of morons are able to both march and hold signs at the same time then those people will forget their own welfare and the welfare of others and also mindlessly oppose war. There is no exact count of how many protestors attended, but census takers said there was enough incoherence for at least a million schizophrenics. In one place, the protesting got rowdy enough that hoses were used to keep them back. People then had a second thought about it, stopped the hoses, sprayed the protestors with soap, and then turned on the hoses again.
President Bush, though not agreeing with their viewpoints, expressed he was happy they all lived in a society where differing ideas could be expressed.
“STUPID FILTHY SMELLY HIPPIES!” he screamed at the beginning of his press conference.
“So will all the protest have any effect on your stance on Iraq?” asked a reporter.
Bush rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Saddam can gas whomever he wants; the mangy hippies have spoken. I just wish there was a way America could save the world for all the serious people and leave the drooling scummy hippies still vulnerable to terrorists.”
“So you want the protestors dead?”
Bush smiled. “Wouldn’t that be cool. All of them in hippy hell, where there are no signs to carry, no tie-dye shirts to wear, everyone has to have short hair and be clean-shaven, everyone has to work a regular job, and no pot smoking. And I could make it happen too. Just one phone call I could have helicopters strafing these protesters, killing them by the thousands. And no idiotic slogan they could chant could stop a bullet.” He continued to smile quietly for a moment, but then changed to a more serious expression. “But I don’t, because I’m just that tolerant and kind. They do everything they can to make me want to slaughter them, but I leave them unkilled. Do they understand how much will that takes? Do they ever say, ‘Hey, thanks for not having me killed, President Bush, even though I’m a filthy scummy worthless hippy deserving of a violent hippy death.’? No, they never give me any credit.” Bush stewed in his anger for a few moments. “It makes me want to murder them!”
“So you think the protestors should be more grateful of you?”
“Hell yeah. Do you know I even had Condi distract Rumsfeld with a World War II movie marathon so he wouldn’t spend all day strangling hippies? He’s going to have crippling arthritis if we don’t keep him from doing all that strangling.
“Anyway, my point is, I just want those protestors to stop for one moment and think that if America really is as evil and imperialistic as they say, then why aren’t they dead? If they think we just want oil, hell, we could take over the entire world and have not just all the oil in the world, but all the gold, all the diamonds, all the chimpanzees and orangutans, and all the corndogs. And who could stop us? France? We could be nuking away while those dinguses would be trying to negotiate with us. Those weenies in Europe could never mobilize in time to stop us from world conquest. But we don’t do take over the world, and you know why?”
“Hadn’t thought of it until now?” ventured one reporter.
“No, because we’re just that benevolent. We have all this power, and we don’t just slaughter everyone we dislike even though it would be a simple thing to do so. We even try to help other countries instead of just conquering them. All these smelly hippies should bow before us and thank us daily for allowing them the privilege of their filthy hippiness. But they just yell at me, and makes me just want to beat them. I wish one were here right now so…”
“No blood for oil!” shouted a mangy hippy who had snuck into the press conference.
“Thank you God.” Bush said looking skyward before jumping towards the man screaming, “HIPPY!!!” He then pounded him soundly, finishing him off with a Texas two-step. “Hope that was a learning experience for the young man,” Bush said as he ambled back to the podium.
“So is your policy to injure but not kill hippies?”
“Why are you guys always grilling me? Can’t we just talk friendly like for a change? So, did everyone see the 300th episode of The Simpsons last night?”
No one responded.
“You guys are freaks,” Bush said with disgust. He then pulled out a revolver and started firing at their feet. “Now dance!” The reporters quickly fled.
“Bush was just a little high strung by the congregation of all those filthy stinking hippies,” Press Secretary Ari Fleischer explained at a later press conference. “His firing a gun at you was all in good fun.”
“Was the gun loaded with real bullets or just blanks?” asked a reporter.
Fleischer sighed. “Yeah, Bush carries a gun filled with blanks; that’s makes lots of sense,” Fleisher responded in a mocking tone. “God you guys ask the dumbest questions.”