It's hard to suss out the multiple layers of irony in the fact that President George W. Bush almost car
bombed himself, Dick Cheney, and (still ironic, but for another reason) Alan Mulally, the CEO of Ford. See, Bush was about to plug an electrical cord into the hydrogen tank of a hybrid auto when Mulally dodged in front of the Commander-in-Chief to stop him from causing the car to explode, the searing, sharp metal and large flames immediately tearing the Leader of the Free World and the Vice-Leader into barbecued chunks and bits. Let's see which way we could go: Bush fucking up on how the whole thing works and causing shit to blow up? Two oil guys being taken out by a car that might mark the beginning of the end of their industry? This is not to mention that a pretty large part of the White House would have been destroyed. And the crater in the lawn. Yep, endless symbolism, even in the fact that a private citizen stopped Bush from wreaking death and destruction at the nation's home.
It's always in the details that you see the real mindset, the real modus operandi, the real intelligence of the Bush administration. Yes, there are the "little lies," as Paul Krugman goes into today over at the pay-for-it-you-fuckers section of the
New York Times. But there's also the little actions, the little words, the little deeds by which we can know them.
Take, for instance, Bush's proclamation for Easter. Sure, sure, he talked
yesterday at Fort Hood, after churchifyin', sayin' that he "had a chance to reflect on the great sacrifice that our military and their families are making. I prayed for their safety, I prayed for their strength and comfort, and I pray for peace." 'Cause, you know, when you're in a chapel at a military base, it's pretty hard not to reflect on the military. Still, hey, he prays for peace, which is dandy and all. But fear not, warmongers. In his Easter
Message for 2007, Bush got all Resurrectiony and asked us to "remember that in the end, even death itself will be defeated." That's a sentiment that, if you are in the military, should make you sick to your damn stomach: "Oh, shit, this motherfucker thinks death is just another war. Fuck, I've already been deployed three times. Now he's gonna have me pack up and fight after I die? God, I hate this Army."
Or take, as another example, this no-shit-Sherlock line from Bush's
proclamation of the 400th anniversary of the founding of Jamestown: "Much has changed in the 400 years since that three-sided fort was raised on the banks of the James River." Ya think? Remember, someone wrote that. It wasn't spoken off the cuff. It was given consideration, revised, and signed off on. This is not to mention the tilt of the entire thing - would it have killed 'em to mention Powhatan and the Algonquin, maybe even fuckin' Pocahantas in the President's official commemoration of Jamestown?
Words aside, take the
nomination of Michael J. Kussman to be Under Secretary for Health for the Department of Veterans Affairs. Presumably someone who's supposed to help clean up the shame of the vets' hospitals and health care clusterfuck, Kussman, in his position as acting Under Secretary, said to a House committee that he was
surprised by all the PTSD and brain trauma cases coming from Iraq and Afghanistan. But don't worry: "We're ideally poised to take care of (it)," he told the skeptical members of Congress. He's also the official who
said that the majority of building condition problems at VA hospitals were "normal." So naturally, the unprepared apologist gets a promotion.
It seems so small, no? Compared to the neverending stream of explosions from this administration, these are barely mosquito bites. But if you get enough blood sucked out of you, god, how weak you become.
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