New Orleans Drowns

Aquarian Weekly 9/14/05
REALITY CHECK

THE BIG DESPERATE
New Orleans Drowns It’s Poor And Huddled Masses

Michael Brown of FEMAYou gentlemen who think you have a mission To purge us of the seven deadly sins Should first sort out the basic food position Then start your preaching. – Bertolt Brecht “What Keeps Mankind Alive?” The Threepenny Opera

Louisiana, Louisiana
They’re trying to wash us away.
– Randy Newman “Louisiana 1927”

If you’ve gleaned anything from reading the mess I’ve sent to press for close to a decade, I hope you’ve learned this: If you are counting on anything or anyone in this life to keep you from harm’s way, or to get you ahead, or to make you happy or fulfilled or confident about the world at large besides your family and/or your wife/husband, you are insane. Period. Not mistaken or mislead or misinformed, insane; painfully so. This is not opinion or philosophy. It is truth. And if what happened in the greater Southeast these past weeks is not the saddest example of this fact, then there isn’t one.

If one iota of the truth of this sinks into your skull for even a millisecond, then those poor souls would not have died in vain.

The central theme to the aftermath of the Hurricane Katrina disaster, specifically in New Orleans, is money; not race, or politics, or region or whatever you may have heard regurgitated by the usual suspects. It’s money, fans. If you’ve got it, you’re not forced to live in a flood zone beneath weak levees, and when the shit storm comes, you have the means to get the hell out. Otherwise, you die. This is true if you believe in Jesus, Justice and The American Way or not. Without the funds, you’re screwed.

It’s money, fans. If you’ve got it, you’re not forced to live in a flood zone beneath weak levees, and when the shit storm comes, you have the means to get the hell out. Otherwise, you die.

What those flood waters did, the way it happens in your basement, is dredge up the things you’ve ignored for sometime. Many of those things are not pretty. We ignore poverty in this country. It’s not pretty. We like to turn the other way, throw some money at it once in a while, make speeches and hold charity events, but for the most part, we ignore it. This is not to say we’re the only country to do this, just the most unseemly, when you consider the way we’re always offering up international advise on how to run things, that is when we’re not congratulating ourselves on being the best nation in the history of civilization.

But who has time to face poverty, when you’re worrying about space programs, Paris Hilton and whether gays are marrying. Meanwhile, there are a frighteningly large number of people in the richest of all nations who are waiting out a death sentence. The number came up for thousands of them last week.

For the uninitiated, and consider yourself lucky you are, when the impoverished are trapped and flooded or burned or turned out of their homes and sent into chaos, they run amok. This is what desperation does to humans. This is when we learn how much like animals we are, when we’re pushed to the brink and have nothing to lose and are given a blank slate with no order. We commit violence, random and furious, and we loot, because we have nothing, and no one is stopping us. It is the same principle with the rich, but they do it in boardrooms and on stock floors and trade on land like a Monopoly board. But do not fool yourself, the rich are human too, and they are ruthless and care very little when the slate becomes blank and the rules no longer apply. See Enron for the latest and greatest example of this.

The other big deal with the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina and its historic devastation is this crazy idea that the state or federal governments should be spectacularly vilified for their inadequate, and at times, criminally inept behavior during the disaster. This is wrong. Who in their right mind thought the Louisiana Government, world famous for a legacy of corruption and stupidity going back to the murderous Old Bourbons and a demented megalomaniac by the name of Huey Long, America’s last profitable fascist, would rescue anyone? And what of this fancy federal government of ours, who has shown a spectacularly miserable effort in protecting its borders; did it have the track record in preparing for disaster? Has no one paid attention to the recent past?

I’ll tell you one thing, after 9/11, it is impossible for anyone who isn’t living in a red white and blue fantasyland to trust the federal government to do anything but wage war and make deals with large corporations and oil concerns. The fact is the federal government is distracted, in hock, and run by colossal buck passers and excuse makers, and if I were standing in a waterlogged shack on the banks of the Mississippi, the last thing I would expect is an army helicopter to swoop in and save the day.

This is a government that continues to pitch dumb about an attack on its soil and played innocent bumpkins all the way through this thing. Some dunderhead even advised our Boy President to publicly admit they had no idea the levees wouldn’t hold despite numerous engineering books on the subject published as early as 1981, and, of course, a rich history of Louisiana floods. Was this any different than eight years after the World Trade Center bombing well-paid people scratched their heads in disbelief over terrorist activity in the same place?

Here’s a final tidbit of useful wisdom; although humans can create, invent, conquer and reconstruct in the fields of science, religion and politics, we have never, and will never be able to stop the tides if they rise or the flames if they’re left to devour. Loads of water and unchecked fire wins every time. Nature is unforgiving, like human nature. So gain the high ground and batten down the hatches. You’re on our own.

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james campion.com

Aquarian Weekly 8/31/05 REALITY CHECK

THE VACUUM OF JOURNALISM

George Pataki & FriendsRage is the only quality which has kept me, or anybody I have ever studied, writing columns for newspapers. – Jimmy Breslin

Who is the cheap whore who sandbagged George Pataki? He is a friend and a warrior, if not dumbfounded by party politics and bad associations with stammering trolls like Al D’Amato, but we’ve long forgiven him his deviances here. Heck, we’ve known the governor, more or less, since he stood on the platform of the Peekskill train station one late July dawn hawking votes for mayor. We’ve worked with his daughter and hung with his campaign rubes, and we like their demented ilk. So when anyone railroads our kind, like these recreant piss boys trying to play Linda Tripp with the suddenly lazy-ass NY Post, we arm for war.

I guess this is what passes for front-page dirt in the once gloriously primal NY Post now. The halcyon days are officially over. What happened to the kind of world-class yellow journalism that had W. R. Hearst spinning happy in his eternity box like “Tea with Son of Sam” or “Ed Koch Steals Money from the Federal Government”, “Uncle Rudy’s Trigger-Happy Blue Line Guns Down Delivery Boy”, or “Donald Trump Caught in Plaza Bathroom Snorting Coke Off Corpulent Hooker’s Cleavage”?

They should be ashamed of themselves over there. I mean, really. Who the fuck cares if Libby Pataki thinks the Giulianis are publicity hounds? They are, and they love it. And what if a dime-store widget gaffer like this Wall Street groupie, Thomas Doherty is pissed about his seating at the state’s GOP fundraisers? I know Doherty. Republican insiders laugh at this idiot. It would not surprise me if he leaked these tapes. Probably has a closet full of them in his room at his mom’s house, where he lives still, jacking off to old Reagan speeches.

I think if Pat Robertson is going to blather stupid shit like murdering presidents, like my irresponsibly professional pitch for Castro’s head a few weeks back, he should be on some kind of ticket come 2006. Get in the arena, and stop hiding behind the hem of the Virgin Mary. I might join him.

Perhaps if Pataki were getting hummers from chubby interns or building tennis centers with firemen funds, we’d have something here. But this meaningless nonsense is wrong and fucked and needs to be settled in a court of law, especially in a nation where journalists are routinely being jailed for protecting sources while mutant vermin like Robert Novak run free.

We absolutely cannot have civilians running wiretaps while the FBI has the type of Gestapo freedom international law enforcement creams over. If anyone was to know what was going on through these phone lines over here at The Desk, we’d be deported or worse. I do not, under any circumstances, want to end up in a pile of naked POW’s in Guantanamo bay, pal.

Wait a minute. Fuck this. Was I just at a diner in Wayne reading a scroll on CNN that claimed that Pat Robertson, voice of the Christ Incarnate, just called for the assassination of Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez? How beautiful is that? I nearly choked up my mediocre veggie burger on the spot. He’s got to be kidding, right? Was he in a Jesus trance, calling on the Lord’s vengeance for the evil darkies? What a terrific monster this guy is. Not Chavez, although he is an annoying twit, but Robertson, once a candidate for president, now reduced to a graying freak show, curing brain cancer victims BEFORE they contract cancer; a thing of beauty, really.

PT Barnum’s adage is as true today as the day he burped it at McSorley’s Bar on the Lower East Side nearly 150 years ago. There is a sucker born every day, and they vote in South America and they listen to Christian Evangelists and buy stories of laundry lists for the NY Post.

Perhaps we can put Pat and his God Boys on the Pataki Phone Tapes case. Weed out the chickenshit buggers like Chuck Colson once did for Nixon, before Liddy and Hunt and the CIA boys screwed it up by leaving White House checks with the valet at the Watergate. Those guys knew how to play it, not like Doherty or Novak. These hacks couldn’t make Nixon’s starting line-up. That took balls, and an utter lack of respect for places like heaven. Doherty just wants to be loved, and Novak is a whiney bitch, who walks off television debate shows after being verbally horse-whipped by a lame pansy like James Carville.

I think if Pat Robertson is going to blather stupid shit like murdering presidents, like my irresponsibly professional pitch for Castro’s head a few weeks back, he should be on some kind of ticket come 2006. Get in the arena, and stop hiding behind the hem of the Virgin Mary. I might join him. We need his kind to show us the festering boils beneath the pomp and revelry of democracy, where anyone with half a brain can ramble on for a thousand words and get paid.

God Bless America!

This brings me to this Cindy Sheehan person, who doesn’t get paid to make a spectacle of herself like me, Novak or Robertson. But she has done a fine job of it, and although the war propaganda hounds over at FOX NEWS like Brit Hume have decided she is a misguided fool, she gets plenty of liberal press. And none of it is good for this aborted war effort, now reduced to the foulest kind of bloody suicide for the poor suckers who joined the armed forces.

Believe me, there will be more like her to come, even though, bless their wounded hearts, they will have all left the barn door open, and be far too late to bemoan the loss. If Sheehan really loved her son, she might have talked him out of joining this folly more vehemently. But, then again, he was a big boy. He wanted to be a soldier, and soldiers die. Presidents send them there. This was the case hundreds of years before any of these kids marched to the firing squad.

Hey, PT Barnum was right about another thing: No one is forced to come into the tent to see the show, you know.

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james campion.com

Aquarian Weekly 8/17/05 REALITY CHECK

SENATOR RODHAM MEETS THE BRIDE OF UNCLE RUDY

Jeanine PirroIt’s taken five-plus years and a decade’s worth of bitching from this space, but we will finally, thankfully, have an old-fashioned knock down, drag out donnybrook for New York Senate this year, the kind mom and pop used to talk about or the history books try and hide – an Alexander Hamilton/Aaron Burr deal with pistols at dawn. And I’m not selling the usual sissy slap fights we inevitably get from rich white guys throwing money at each other like spoiled brats. I’m talking an all-pro political mutant fest squaring off to the death, and folks, they’re women.

Enter stage right; pit bull Westchester County District Attorney, Jeanine Pirro, who has set her sights on our beloved Senator Rodham, once the crown jewel of party palaver, but now operating with a sizable target between the shoulder blades. This was supposed to be Uncle Rudy’s fight last time, but divorce and cancer curtailed the fun. Thus we were stuck with the flaccidly surreal Rick Lazio “I’m From NY and You’re Not” review. But now the pot is sweetened by a bonafide catfight, one in which the claws and fangs have already been brandished.

Pirro is a gunslinger. She means business. Her husband’s a jailbird and her children are nuts. Yet she manages to exude an air of dominatrix. When you talk to her you have to fight the urge to flinch. She is at once charming and disarming, a die hard Republican hard-ass with a tinge of compassion rarely seen in high level law enforcement. Pirro gives a shit. She really does, and don’t think for one minute she believes Senator Rodham does.

When announcing her candidacy last week, Pirro quipped, “I am running against Hillary Clinton because New York State deserves a senator who will give her all to the people of New York for a full term, who will not miss votes to campaign in primaries.”

Ouch.

She continued…

Pirro is a gunslinger. She means business. Her husband’s a jailbird and her children are nuts. Yet she manages to exude an air of dominatrix. When you talk to her you have to fight the urge to flinch.

“When Mrs. Clinton first came to us and said she wanted to be a New Yorker, she asked New York to put out a welcome mat and we did,” Pirro sniped. “But now she wants us to re-elect her even though she won’t promise to serve out her term and wants to use us as a springboard to the presidency. She’s asking us to become her doormat. I believe we deserve better.”

Doormat. This is good. It’s better than carpetbagger. The carpetbagger stuff didn’t play in the sticks. Apparently they like outsiders in Binghamton, but who wants to be a Doormat?

No matter how you cut it, the Pirro move is genius by the New York Republican Party, which has begun its Stop Hillary campaign in full force by sending the equivalent of Uncle Rudy in a rough and tumble female package. You want a moderate, who has fought for women’s rights, nabbed sex offenders, and clamped down on underage drunks, and, most importantly, has not allowed the federal government to run willy nilly over the enforcement of the law in the Empire State? You got her, silver platter and all.

Senator Rodham has concerns. Believe me. I know Jeanine Pirro. She knows people I know in the know. Anyone who’s spent five minutes in NY politics for the past 20 years has dealt with Pirro in one way, shape or form. She is a specter. She will not go quietly. She has opinions stacked on opinions, and if you don’t like it, she has a pretty good opinion on that too.

And if Pirro cannot defeat the unsinkable Senator Rodham, a distinct possibility as she begins down by some 40 points in every poll imaginable, then she is merely set forth to slow the momentum, bare the scars and gnaw on the bones of this fast-track operation ramping up for Pennsylvania Avenue. State GOP Chairman, Stephen Minarik has already gone on record by suggesting that “the district attorney could bloody the former first lady as she prepares for a possible run for president in 2008”.

Rodham has been a fair senator, and, at times, has proven her mettle in dealing with bi-partisan issues. She has slid dramatically to the right to hasten her ascent to a national candidacy in the past few months, preaching fiscal responsibility and military strength abroad, while deftly maintaining star status in the liberal crunch of Howard Dean’s party. She is no sucker, and will no doubt dig up the bad vibes of Pirro’s past political aspirations, like a failed run for lieutenant governor in 1986, when her husband’s mounting evidence of tax fraud dragged her down like a ten-ton anchor.

Pirro, a staunch defender of a woman’s right to choose, will find problems of her own with the state’s conservative wing. There are already rumblings from that camp which has gone to great lengths to remind the local press that “no one has won a statewide race without our endorsement since 1974.” But, however rural most of New York can be, it is no Red State, and boasts a social liberal as its governor as well as the last two mayors of its largest city.

No matter how you slice it, the tale of the tape is a thing of beauty: Pirro, the hard-nosed prosecutor, practicing rancorous forms of tough love versus Madam Hillary, who has made a living pandering to special interests and sucking hard on the government teat. Pirro is street. Rodham is nerdish. While the former first lady can wax poetic and wonk you to death with stats and rhetoric, Pirro’s like some kind of teamster in a foul mood, lecturing you on the finer points of pistol whipping.

Political junkies, such as yours truly, have hit the jackpot with this one. You live many generations without seeing something this juicy with such high stakes. And when you couple that to what is coming in 2008, the first national election for President of the United States without an incumbent or standing vice president running since Eisenhower defeated a limping Adlai Stevenson 53 years ago, you begin to formulate the consequences.

This is as tasty as it gets kids. Two polished professionals, veterans of the battle, squaring off for all the marbles; call Don King and spit-shine the corpse of Boss Tweed, we gonna dance!

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Castro, Please Die

Aquarian Weekly 7/27/05 REALITY CHECK

OPEN LETTER TO FIDEL CASTRO

Fidel CastroIl Presidente,

Please die.

Seriously. Just die.

We need your country. Well, I need your country, really. You see I have plans. Big plans. These include your demise. Anything will do. Shotgun wound to the cranium, bathtub accident, arsenic, 15 minutes in a room with Geraldo Rivera. Pretty much any mode of suicide is acceptable, as long as it results in you ceasing to exist asap. Believe me, it would be much appreciated.

I recently met with a team of accountants in North Carolina, and it was decided that much of your land is being, and has been, wasted on needless poverty and disease, when rapacious clods such as myself can acquire it at desperate discounts and turn it around for mucho dinero.

You see, cheap land in one of the world’s finest hot spots, once the playground of the mafia and American hotel chains, is now littered with crack ghettos. You can help by dropping dead. We don’t have to kill you per se. This kind of thing is messy and costs money, and, as we all know, hasn’t worked out to our advantage. Anyway, the Hussein fiasco has really strapped us over here; big time debt and all. We need a more cost effective way out. So fall down the stairs or suck on a tail pipe. Please.

Think of all the affordable real estate that is just rotting down there. Batista’s original infrastructure has got to be still around. Well, Batista. Shit. Who are we kidding? The United States’ original infrastructure is still there. We’ve sent out feelers, who have assured me reconstruction would be well worth the investment. Sugar, cigars, casinos, prostitution, gambling; oh there is much to exploit. We miss it. Florida is too crowded and far too sticky. We need some offshore breezes and fine pina coladas. Enough is enough. Die.

The ghost of Hemmingway implores you. He loved your country. He loved guns. And he killed himself. Are you getting the picture?

And really, how long can you expect to live? Honestly. You’ve been around long enough. You’ve had a good run, but let’s face it; you fucked up with this communism thing. There’s no money in it. And that short-sited Urban Reform Law? Who did that aid? Your pockets? Maybe, for a while, but you were never a long-term thinker. It’s always been about you – you, you, you. Don’t get me wrong. You’ve been a fine ruthless thug, but it’s time to give back.

Hey, I’ve seen some of the places you live now. This is not living. It ain’t like the old days, when you had Russian bank loans and underground American aid. But even that came at a cost. I guess you’ve never stopped laughing when we came for you. Man, we should have noticed the decline of the CIA then, huh? But the Kennedy’s were too busy riding Marilyn Monroe to pay attention to detail. But they’re all dead now. And so are communism and the Soviet Union. The jig is up. So why not give it a shot. I’ve heard a poison enema can be quite refreshing.

Here’s the deal: Prices of real estate have gone mad here in Jersey. New York is nuts, and only dead-eyed Caucasians live in Connecticut. It’s not for us. We like the adventure of diversity. Listen, truth is we love it here, but we no longer want to work like dogs just to hang our hats. It’s time we expand. I am not interested in Canada or Puerto Rico. I see a great opportunity in Cuba.

And, admittedly, I love cigars, really good cigars – the kind of cigars that taste like chocolate cake. Mmmm. I know you can appreciate a good stogie, Fidel. So, spark one up, smoke it down, and slit your wrists. Do it vertically. It’s more effective. A survey of teenage girls proves it out. We’re looking for expediency here. Once you’re cold, we’ll take it from there. Bribes are in place. You won’t have to worry about a thing.

And since you’re such a man of the people (are we still selling that nonsense?) then you’ll be happy to know we’ll take care of yours. Wal Mart and Target and Nike and General Motors will be down there before you take your last breath. Jobs a-plenty. Red Roof Inn is on board. It will be great. As long as we can get in cheap, and, of course, you die right away.

Try to understand, this country of ours is in a tailspin of economic madness. Our president is a dumbstruck hick, and we’re nearly broke. We’ve got wars and enemies all over the place. The time to cash in the chips and buy up acres of prime Cuban real estate is now. But we know you have to save face and despise capitalism and American ingenuity, so it’s best if you shuffle off this mortal coil and let us bring home the proverbial bacon.

Thomas Jefferson, one of our nation’s greatest minds, and a guy who could knew well how to make an honest buck on the backs of free labor, once lovingly referred to your fair country as “a fruit that will soon fall into our hands.” It gets me misty to read it. How about you? I’m warm and fuzzy all over when I think of you now in your run-down study, chomping down on a Cohiba contemplating your principled exit. The joy wells in my soul.

You see yourself as a great man. Therefore, you deserve to go out on your own terms like my hero, Doctor Thompson. Take a tip from him and swallow a pistol. It is the honorable way out. Hear the Cuban band playing your song. “Good-bye cruel world, let someone without shit for brains run things for awhile.”

The ghost of Hemmingway implores you. He loved your country. He loved guns. And he killed himself. Are you getting the picture? In closing, I would like you to recall the ancient Zen saying: “There is no point to life if one cannot profit from a land grab.”

Thanks for your time and consideration,

jc ”

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Karl Rove Is Innocent

Aquarian Weekly 7/20/05 REALITY CHECK

THE “KARL ROVE IS INNOCENT” FAVOR RENDERED

Follow The BleederThis was supposed to be the piece many on the Reality Check News & Information Desk mailing list have requested. It would have been a searing tribute to the bravery and resilience of the British citizenry, whose generations have endured more than a half century of bombardment and terrorism, and last week took a hit in London from al Qaeda or some other rogue Islamic outfit trying to cash in on the publicity of the city’s Olympic bid win or some other bullshit about Iraq. I was going to wax poetic on the resolve and character of the English, how they bested Hitler’s Blitzkrieg and the random violence of the Irish Republican Army and how Prince Charles has become so completely and innocuously sad he belongs next to Flavor Flav in the “Surreal Life.”

But that’s all by the boards now. Friendship has taken precedence over the planned Anglo-gushing. A friendship, however warped and tainted it may be, which has been called to duty this week. Georgetown, our resident GOP snitch, has made the request I know he despised making. He needs a favor. A favor you ask? What could he elicit that would make a respectable journalist such as myself waste precious column space to entertain.

“You have to come to Karl Rove’s defense,” he demanded. “Remember The Meeting.”

It was a favor I knew one day would have to be returned – The Meeting. It was, after all, Georgetown who got me into a clandestine summit of Rove and the Fancy Boys that balmy summer night in DC five long years ago, when George W. Bush was a pretender from the Lone Star State and everyone was pretty sure that whatever carcass Al Gore left behind in Bill Bradley, it was merely a warm up act to wiping the campaign trail with our beloved Captain Shoo-In. Rove had gotten a kick out of my barrage of e-mails, which claimed, one after one, that I possessed compromising photographs of the vice president playing carnal games with farm animals and a detailed document claiming that Tipper had twice been to rehab in Westchester, NY for “substance abuse”. I was later to report she had been mainlining Ajax cut with Diet Rite Cola and Jim Beam, but that is neither here nor there.

What is in question now is how I will handle Mr. Rove’s latest battle to stay inside The Loop on Pennsylvania Avenue now that his name has been implicated as the “high ranking source” that leaked the name of an upitty CIA operative to syndicated columnist Robert Novak, a federal crime carrying a ten-year sentence. “Karl is a pussy,” Georgetown continued. “He’ll die in prison. He doesn’t have the facility for male sex that Gordon Liddy did.”

“Jesus Christ, man!” I screamed back at him. “You do realize they are tossing journalists in jail now. I will give you up, and Rove and Novak and every damn one of you pusillanimous dregs before I let that happen to me! You’re all guilty of something!”

There was no allaying his fears. There were many and they were varied. He was anxious. It was easy to see there was no way out for me. I would have to pen something akin to Old Soldiers Never Die or a Thomas Paine knock-off. I could do it. I have done it many times for less. This was a “high ranking official” of our government. I’m a literary jester at best, a sniveling bilge merchant at worst. But the piper had his hand out. I had danced. Now I needed to pay.

“Campion, god damn it!” my highly agitated friend intoned sternly. “This is important! None of your cheap jokes this time! A man’s life is at stake here – a very important man. He’s not like the rest of us. Karl Rove is…different.”

It was the way he whispered the word “different” that set me off. It was creepily reverent, and it disgusted me.

“Jesus Christ, man!” I screamed back at him. “You do realize they are tossing journalists in jail now. I will give you up, and Rove and Novak and every damn one of you pusillanimous dregs before I let that happen to me! You’re all guilty of something!”

“The only one who is guilty is that miserable bastard, Novak,” he simmered. “He would sell his grandmother to organ thieves for a decent column. He’s a hack and a cunt and he has sold out our soul for a paycheck!”

“I won’t let you abuse the name of anyone in the Fourth Estate,” I fought back. “Least of all for a binge drinker like Rove.”

“Karl Rove is a Christian and a great American genius, and like that other Great American Genius, Jacko, he cannot go to prison. The man saved us from John Kerry!”

“That may be so, but he tipped the bottle one time too many, and worse still, trusted the wrong man, one who is all-too sober and mean and had it in for the CIA for making the president look like a stone-faced liar and caused Scott McClellan to weakly blather excuses like a goober.”

“But it’s Karl Rove we’re talking about. The man is a saint. He loves his mother and Jesus and he wears all the right clothes!”

“Rove? What do we really know about this guy? The last time I saw him he shook me down for hooker money, and then after he’d had his way with the poor girl he sent her to me to replace her shoes!”

“That’s a damned lie, Campion!”

“I still get the shudders every time I think of what Rove did with a working girl’s pumps, and now you expect me to endure this horrible assignment!”

He had no answer for my charges. He knew about the hooker’s shoes. They all did, McClellan, Chaney, that chubby fop who writes copy for FOX News. There was fury behind his solicitation, but Georgetown knew, as always, I would be his bitch, if only to fill space and be left alone. But he also knew more than anyone what Rove’s ouster would mean to the bedrock of religious freaks he drove to the polls last November. How would they react when their shining light is dragged into court like a common criminal to explain why this fuck-awful farce the administration has run into the ground in Iraq for the past two years could lead to corrupting the law?

But enough about that nonsense, I am a man of my word, if nothing else. So I shall do my part and fulfill my end of the bargain.

Karl Rove is innocent.

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Iraq Do-Over?

Aquarian Weekly 7/6/05 REALITY CHECK

CAVEAT EMPTOR

Bush at Fort Bragg“I just don’t think it’s the role of the United States to walk into a country and say, we do it this way, so should you ….but I think one way for us to end up being viewed as the ugly American is for us to go around the world saying, we do it this way, so should you…..I think the United States must be humble and must be proud and confident of our values, but humble in how we treat nations that are figuring out how to chart their own course.” – Candidate George W. Bush Second Gore-Bush Presidential Debate October 11, 2000

“We’re helping Iraqis build a free nation that is an ally in the war on terror. We’re advancing freedom in the broader Middle East. We are removing a source of violence and instability and laying the foundation of peace for our children and our grandchildren.” – President George W. Bush June 28, 2005

After the unmitigated disaster of polls prior to and during the 2004 presidential election it is a wonder any of us pay attention to this shit anymore. According to most polls John Kerry is president now. Didn’t you get the memo? I know one thing; if I were still invited to the press club in DC I would move to have John Zogby tarred and feathered and then have his bleeding carcass shot out of a cannon into the Potomac for the dime-store fraud he perpetuated on this country’s voting psyche on November 2. But this is the very reason my credentials were revoked in the first place, so let’s not revisit ancient history.

Speaking of ancient history, I understand now 60% of Americans are against Baby Bush’s Iraq War, or, to be more specific, the handling of said conflict. Fuck them. Who are these idiots? Did they stay home on Election Day or are they the obligatory face of the American consumer: hyped up with the impulse to run up the credit on frivolous trappings only to end up with the hangover of buyer’s remorse. Well these assholes don’t get a do-over. They handed the guy with the bloody maw a blank check and he’s taking it to the bank, and there isn’t a fucking thing you or six silly members of this flaccid congress can do about it.

This is the grand flaw in the Zogby logic: Polling the American people in the first place. Take the pulse of the easily duped and terribly spoiled? You’d have a better time asking your five-year-old kid what he thinks of the Bush Doctrine at this juncture. 60%? I’ve never seen anything more ridiculous, like people pressuring Karl Rove to apologize for calling liberals wimps. To hell with them. If that’s what he thinks good for him. I think all bald, bespectacled white conservatives are impotent, and I’m not apologizing for it, and neither should he. If that’s what he thinks, why take it back?

No sane majority outside of Germany can be as stupid as to elect a president during a war ten months ago and then whine like bratty children if they feel suckered.

And you can’t take back Baby Bush either. He is our boy. We rubber-stamped this thing. It was in all the papers: Bush Wins Second Term. Check the Internet, I’m pretty sure you’ll find details of it there. And if I’m not mistaken there’s also a clear record on this war Captain Shoo-In bet his presidency on in the spring of 2003, one year before he had to defend his job, and defend it he did, successfully. He was the man with the plan. John Kerry was a heathen war criminal and Ralph Nader was nuts. Remember?

I penned those thoughts some 33 hours before the president took to the airwaves to rally the troops again. I normally wait to dissect the madness, but I have an early deadline, and the last thing I want to do before four frightfully inebriated days of independence celebration is sit up until three in the morning trying to make sense of the nonsense that passes for a Commander-in-Chief Pep Rally.

But I am a weak man. I need the pap. I crave the flag-waving salute your daddy nonsense that extricates the young from their limbs. I cannot help myself. I am a patriot, true and true. I have a primal need to be snowed by my leaders. From the Halls of Montezuma…

And our Commander-in-Chief did not disappoint, evoking Independence Day and 9/11 and the Civil War and the ghosts of Patrick Henry and Audie Murphy. It was brilliant and heartwarming and so criminally deceptive I had to call the police, but they did not seem to care. The West Milford Department Chief told me to turn off the set and read a book. “God damn it, Campion. You cannot call the cops every time you see some dunderhead with a blue tie comes on television to lie to you about a war. We’re busy over here shooting bear!”

But enough about my delusions or the president’s for that matter. Bush was right about one thing during the campaign last year, he is nothing if not consistent. He gave us a clear choice. He has not wavered on this mess, nor should he. And now he has your confidence, legal and binding, as all elections are, or are sold to be, at least not as innocuous as these miserable Zogby Lies. No sane majority outside of Germany can be as stupid as to elect a president during a war ten months ago and then whine like bratty children if they feel suckered. First its All For It, Daddy! Now it’s Bring The Boys Home?

This thing is so fucked even the Secretary of Defense had the balls to admit in front of a Senate Committee that he begged the president to resign…twice! But GW isn’t that dumb. Rumsfeld is going down with the ship, or at least the part of the ship that sinks below the surface while he’s still running things. I’m sure the Secretary of Defense will live to a ripe old age, but the fallout of his fantastically inept war plans will take more than a decade to disappear into the surf.

I feel for all you people with 10-year-old boys. They will be tickling the trigger of a gun soon, and it will be law, because at this rate, a more than 40% drop-off in recruiting, the jig is up. The kids are no longer falling for the 9/11 Weepy Bullshit Speeches anymore. They see their friends coming back in pieces or in boxes and they would rather get laid and have a joint and hit the beach. Maybe we can suit up Dick Chaney’s daughters and strap them to the Kilroy Was Here missiles. It will be gangbusters for morale.

Caveat Emptor.

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Deep Throat Revealed, Or…?

Aquarian Weekly 6/8/05 REALITY CHECK

DEEP THROAT – A TRIBUTE

Deep Throat EscapesThe evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones. – William Shakespeare Julius Caesar Act III

By now everyone has heard that 91-year-old W. Mark Felt, former second in command at the FBI during the Watergate scandal that eventually took down the 37th President of the United States has finally come forth as the identity behind the infamous Deep Throat. The most notorious anonymous source in the history of journalism, so dubbed after the celebrated porn film of the same name by then Washington Post Managing Editor Howard Simons, the paper that unleashed the investigative talents of Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein to uncover a series of outlandish crimes by Richard Nixon, has been bandied about in books, college classrooms and documentaries for three decades. None of which had successfully fingered Felt among dozens of suspects. Some still argue it could not have merely been Felt, and I agree.

Up until Felt’s confession, the accepted theory was that Deep Throat, as most deep-background anonymous sources, was a composite of several hidden voices. This made sense purely because Deep Throat’s knowledge of numerous interconnected events and key characters was so vast and his access inside the White House so complete that anyone outside of Nixon’s most loyal inner sanctum could not have achieved it. However, the composite theory works on a simpler level. Woodward, merely a metro reporter who had been with the Post for a lousy nine months would have had a tough time selling several off-the-record sources as evidence that the most powerful position in the land had plotted and bankrolled this kind of cheap underhanded prank. One “deep” imbedded source was an easier pitch.

But those are simply theories. Evidence that an FBI source, however “high-ranking”, would not have been able to provide the kind of evidence portrayed in the Post’s 1973 stories appears in more detail in Woodward and Bernstein’s masterful, “All The President’s Men”. The book contains, as do many of the ’73 articles, several references to Deep Throat as a White House source or top-level insider, someone with first-hand knowledge of the Nixon tapes, incriminating documents, and a spectacular history of insidious plots hatched by the most powerful people in the country. Could this have merely been Felt?

Of course Felt was apprised of the evidence compiled by the FBI in the ongoing investigation at the time, but as a top man in the bureau, could he have been doing his job while snooping around gathering dirt from several different sources himself?

John Dean, then White House counsel and point man for the 1972 break-in said this week that Felt’s prominent position at the FBI so soon after the death of lifetime director J. Edgar Hoover made it practically impossible for Felt to have had the time or the balls for such tasks as writing cryptic messages in Woodward’s NY Times to arrange clandestine garage meetings that sometimes took up hours of the participants’ time. Dean had his finger on the pulse of events from start to finish. It was his riveting testimony at the hearings that was corroborated word-for-word on the infamous smoking-gun tape that ultimately buried Nixon. When the president finally asked him to put his name to paper outlining the gory events leading up to Watergate, one of several blatant scapegoat moves, Dean turned coat to save his ass. When he went to the FBI with his story, Dean admits he pretty much knew who could have been leaking what, and Felt never made his list.

It is fair to deduce that if Mark Felt was the Deep Throat and not a source composite, then he had help, much help in gathering the type of gaudy facts that eventually, with air-tight precision, destroyed the presidency of one of the most crooked politicians this country has ever produced.

No doubt Felt was a prime candidate. He had an axe to grind, believing, among many of his colleagues at the FBI that Nixon’s appointment of Assistant Attorney General L. Patrick Gray as director instead of a veteran insider reeked of an overt kind of self-serving. Gray’s name was later pulled when he admitted to sharing the FBI’s investigation of Watergate with Dean, who then had designs on helping the White House cover-up their party to the incident.

Felt was also privy to all of the mounting evidence that began to “grow as a cancer on the presidency”, so much so that Nixon urged his cronies to steer the FBI away from the proceedings claiming it a CIA matter that was of utmost importance to national security. Right then Felt, wounded by being passed over and wanting to seal Gray’s fate, would have had ample evidence and motivation for spilling the beans on Nixon. It is also important to note that Felt, originally a spy detector for the bureau, was later convicted and then pardoned by Ronald Reagan for authorizing FBI break-ins of war protester headquarters in the ’70s. He knew well the tactics of the Beltway and could identify a juicy breach from a mile away.

After the revealing Vanity Fair article was presented to the press this week, Woodward, who met in a DC garage seven times with Felt during the Post’s investigation, corroborated the confession in a statement followed by a brilliantly detailed column unfurling his close friendship and series of spot-on info Felt had funneled him long before Watergate. Woodward tells of Felt’s fears of the Nixon Administration’s “corruption” spilling into the FBI’s domain of illegal wire-tapping, opening of mail, and authorized break-ins – all later corroborated tactics of the Nixon era.

This is precisely why all this talk lately about Felt being some kind of traitor snitch who should have gone through the proper legal channels to prosecute Nixon instead of leaking evidence to cub reporters is ludicrous. By the time Felt, rightly or not, was passed over for FBI director the bureau was in turmoil. Hoover, the FBI’s only director, was dead. For decades he ran the tightest ship in DC, and in many ways held more sway than the president. The White House, as many had tried in the past, was beginning to put a stranglehold on several forms of the government, especially Hoover’s former untouchable domain. It was hard to fathom who was Nixon’s bitch and who was up and up. Well-worn stories of Gray dumping vital evidentiary records into the Potomac are all Felt would need to know before unburdening his soul.

To hear Woodward tell it, the best case scenario taking all of the evidence through the ringer; the surveillance of Woodward’s apartment to arrange the garage meetings to the detailed descriptions of major conversations and documents coming straight from the Oval Office to third-rate burglars and CIA rejects etc., it is fair to deduce that if Mark Felt was the Deep Throat and not a source composite, then he had help, much help in gathering the type of gaudy facts that eventually, with air-tight precision, destroyed the presidency of one of the most crooked politicians this country has ever produced.

Woodward concludes in his latest piece for the Post, “Because of his position virtually atop the chief investigative agency, his words and guidance had immense, at times even staggering, authority. The weight, authenticity and his restraint were more important than his design, if he had one.”

But the question remains for this reporter: Who was behind Deep Throat?

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GOP Gridlock

Aquarian Weekly 5/18/05 REALITY CHECK

GOP GRIDLOCK – PART II Social Security, Conservative Judges, Putin, Iran, North Korea & Political Suicide

Vladimir PutinMy conversation with Republican insider Georgetown from the last week of April continues.

jc: Let’s just say for the sake of argument you guys can get some semblance of this Social Security reform onto the floor. What are the chances that a compromise can be met?

Georgetown: Before mid-term elections? None. Like I said, there are too many jobs on the line here. This is the issue, political survival, and unless it is handled correctly it could swing the power, or at least senate power back to the democrats. I think it more than a worthy cause, maybe the most worthy cause, but it’s political suicide within 19 months of an election. Democratic opponents in certain districts have already started pouncing. There’s tension building and some of these congressmen and senators are not going to the mat for this, not if their job is on the line, and it is.

jc: In a nutshell, it’s either the battle for judges or Social Security reform.

GT: Yes. If the battle is waged and stymied on one front, it could halt the momentum of the other. The ideological war is currently, and I think dangerously, winning out over the fiscal one, and that is where the main rift between conservatives, fiscal conservatives I’m talking about now, not the bible thumpers, and more moderate republicans lies. The true business hawks have lain low since the election, but they are barking now. We want the judges, sure. We need to fight back on those key social issues, but I believe if there is a knock-down drag-out it should be over Social Security and not gay marriage and abortion or other ancillary moral issues. It defeats the purpose of a congress to be too far-reaching, especially in this divisive a political climate.

jc: I think Social Security reform is inevitable. It might not be the convoluted Bush plan, but it is inevitable. The moral issues come and go and come again. So, I ask you, what survives this administration?

GT: Sadly not the reform.

jc: You think it’s dead.

GT: As a doornail.

jc: Let’s get to this government’s credibility on issuing threats to other nations, Iran, North Korea, whatever, based on intelligence evidence compiled by the CIA and selling the inherent dangers to its people based on the track record leading up to the war in Iraq. Why doesn’t anyone see this as a problem?

“You are supposed to make the Democrats look like stallers and backbiters, not make the party in charge look like power mongers.”

GT: I’ll tell you why, because we’re on the righteous course now. This is not a defense plan; this is a restructure policy internationally. We have put the onus on nations to cut the shit, not keep us out of it. This is a change from the Iraq theories of threats by a nation with WMD after being attacked on our own soil. Iraq was sold on security and then freedom. We’re on the freedom track now. Ridding the world of tyrants. Tyrants usually insolate themselves with huge weapons pile-ups. This is now a no-no in the defacto war on terror. I think it a clever tact.

jc: Change the argument to fit the issue.

GT: Right on.

jc: But I don’t think you grasp my point. We are now making allegations against Korea and Iran that are eerily similar to those leveled against Hussein. Now, in the case of Hussein they turned out cooked, but these are dead serious. But with the first having been the big thing on the back of nothing…

GT: It compromises our position internationally? No it doesn’t. We’ve already stated in several places on a myriad of occasions that this is a global war on terror. It is on going. It evolves, and it evolves on our dime and our time. We just move on over to the next bad guy when we see fit. This is the whole thing. It has to move, like a shark. It’s shark foreign tactics. Hit and run, pick the target and stay on it. The best part about this is one of these rogue nations are going to get to the bottom of the Osama bin Laden MIA shit. You just know someone from Iran is going to execute this idiot, so they can claim great friend of the United States and then point the finger if we try and keep them from building a massive war machine. I’m telling you, that’s coming.

jc: What do you make of Vladimir Putin? Is it the same old crap, or is this guy a maverick? And what’s Bush’s fascination with him? If there actually is one. And what’s with this proposed meeting in Russia?

GT: Putin is an imperialist. He will fight for his slice of the Middle East pie. He’s already started. This bullshit with Ariel Sharon, wherein he’s whipping up plans for peace and restructuring settlements in Israel is laughable. He couldn’t give two shits about Israel. It’s a grandstand to get involved in what he sees as a serious doctrine to change the political landscape there. Listen, I’ve always said that you can tell how your foreign policy is going when everyone tries to rip it off for their own gain. Putin is the proof that Bush’s plan, however ass-backwards and inept it can look sometimes, is sound.

jc: But doesn’t Putin have a right to be involved? Even though I share much of your cynicism about his sincerity. I mean, this is happening in his backyard.

GT: Sure, he can do anything he wants. Doesn’t mean it’s not a transparent power grab. I think our president might say as much when he goes to Russia.

jc: And this accomplishes the “Let me play chess with the Arabs, find your own war zone to gut” doctrine?

GT: Funny. Take it on the road.

jc: One last thing about the world stage. Do you think the Brit election will mean a hill of beans to the final three years of this administration or the final months of this congress?

GT: Nope. Small potatoes.

jc: Big ally.

GT: It’s a bit noisy for me.

jc: How many judges do you get through?

GT: One. I think one. Maybe two. A big maybe. It’s a fair fight. No one with a background in these things is complaining. But someone with a conservative record is getting through. Count on it.

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GOP Gridlock

Aquarian Weekly 5/11/05 REALITY CHECK

GOP GRIDLOCK – PART I Conservative Insider Unloads On Republican Congress

Ying & YangI have known Georgetown for about 15 years now, more or less. He has provided my readers an interesting and oft times hilarious insight to all things Republican, while maintaining his anonymity. It is this anonymity that has allowed him the fresh honesty for and against many policies of his party and this government without reprisal, and whether I agreed with his assessments or argued them our deal has stayed the same: He gives me the inside scoop and his ornery take on it and I print it in this space. Little edits. No pussyfooting. But during these 15 years, he has rarely, if ever, displayed as vehement an opposition to his party’s direction and procedure as he did late last month during our most recent conversation.

As usual, the following is a two-part excerpt of almost an hour of his rants, instigated by your truly to some degree, but it is mostly a candid and strikingly frank assortment of criticisms leveled at the most dominant GOP federal government this republic has ever seen.

jc: The accepted theory on George W. Bush’s first term was that he was far more fiscally and socially conservative than his father, who I know you and many conservatives had problems with, taxes, the Gulf War, etc. Now that evaluation has to come into question. This government has its hand in everything from social issues, private affairs of citizens, restructured environmental issues, Medicare pork, and has managed the most spend thrift budget ever. And this president, who has yet to veto a single bill, has rejected none of these subjects.

Georgetown: I’ll tell you this, there is a serious and growing rift in the party between social conservatives, mostly lobbied by the religious right, and fiscal conservatives, many of which began as hawks during the ramp up to the war, but who now believe it to be a money pit, and one that we will not be able to recover from for at least a decade and has been a detriment to more pressing domestic policies. Period. This is no longer a maybe or if, it is a real and present danger to our control of this congress, and one, in my estimation, that will break the back of the president’s push of Social Security or tax reform. This war is doing to Bush what Viet Nam did to Lyndon Johnson’s ability to govern the country at large. It is badly run and terribly administrated, and if there is isn’t a mass exodus of Republicans in the house and senate by late summer on most of the White House’s agenda, it will be news. These people have to save their asses.

jc: So there’s a battle for the heart and mind of the Republican Party, which ostensibly makes up the United States government right now.

GT: Take the Tom Delay thing for example. There are many Republicans who want this guy hung out to dry. This is bullshit. He has given the Democrats an easy target when we’ve got judges to be nominated, bills on the docket, and this John Bolton thing, which is the lynchpin for the Bush foreign policy in the Middle East. We’re going to shake-up the world politic, right? Let me ask you, do you think Bush likes bringing in the Saudis and having them read all over the Washington Post that his proposed ambassador to the UN is being depicted by fellow Republicans as Attila The Hun? Have you ever seen anything so bush league? It’s dime store politics, and it makes you wonder who the hell is in charge.

jc: But how does Delay’s problems factor into that?

“You are supposed to make the Democrats look like stallers and backbiters, not make the party in charge look like power mongers.”

GT: This is the same shit we pulled on Clinton. By the time the Lewinsky thing became public, his ability to govern was nil. He was shot. This killed the Democrats in the mid-term elections and made him one of the earliest lame duck second termers ever. Delay is the face of this government right now. Who the hell wants that? I’ll tell you who, George Bush. His “loyalty” crap is crippling the government and landing the party in a corner. That bullshit with him walking off the helicopter with Delay last week was political suicide. I watched that and thought, “Jesus, we’ve forgotten how we got here.” It sure as hell wasn’t on the back of punks like Tom Delay or Bolton for that matter, who is a self-serving bureaucrat, who is so far up Dick Chaney’s ass its scary. You think Dick Chaney cares who runs this government over the next two decades? He’ll be lucky to live past Christmas.

jc: Where’s Karl Rove in all of this?

GT: Not happy, I’ll tell you that much. But Rove is a campaign wiz. He concocted the God vote thing. They needed him to rattle the social cages to bring out the anti-gay, anti-secular, anti anti-war vote. He did his job. You want him to tell Bush to sell these fanatics down the river when he’s beginning a second term? Why? To save the party? He works for George W. Bush. His man has won all the elections he’s going to win. It’s over. It’s our problem now.

jc: But you do support Social Security reform, right? So that means private accounts, and doesn’t private accounts amount to political suicide?

GT: You pick your battles in this town. I applaud the president for his courage to at least broach the subject, but he has to consider that other people need to win elections beside him. He’s done. He will try and hammer away at things for another 16 months and then he will attend a few dinners, make a round trip of the globe, and shuffle off into the sunset. But then what does he do, hand this party over to social liberals like Giuliani and McCain?

jc: So how much does Delay and Bolton and Social Security effect the judiciary nominations?

GT: Killing them. Fucking killing them. And now they want to press the issue of filibuster reform. Holding up judge nominations is as American as apple pie. You always think you’re going to be in control forever, but it’s a pipe dream. There will come a day when the Republicans will need to filibuster again, and then what? Here’s the problem with restructuring congressional power, your force that to be the issue and take the onus away from the nominations, which is wrong. You are supposed to make the Democrats look like stallers and backbiters, not make the party in charge look like power mongers.

jc: Then Delay attacks the courts with the Catholic League over the Schiavo case and it looks like you’re trying to stack the deck.

GT: Exactly. Now you’re playing real life politics.

NEXT WEEK – PART II

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We Want John Bolton

Aquarian Weekly 5/4/05 REALITY CHECK

WE WANT BOLTONAmerica The Ugly Has Spoken

John BoltonNot even the most optimistic Democrat on Capitol Hill thinks the rabidly vilified John Bolton won’t be the next U.S. ambassador to the United Nations. They fully comprehend, as well as the realists among them that he represents the will of the people. This past November we rubber stamped the mean, war crazy jingoists, and damn it, if we don’t deserve our pit bull to crack a few heads around the United Nations then what was the point of voting George W. Bush back into office in the first place? It sure wasn’t his stellar economic record or a stirring command of the English language.

We have political capitol here. Didn’t the memo go out? Wasn’t there a general e-mail head’s up received on this? We voted. Bush won. He won on a record of boorish and aggressively dangerous behavior, combative and unyielding to anything resembling sober reason. This is obviously the agenda. He is also God’s choice. What is the argument? Let’s get on with it already.

Look, no one around here gives half a shit about the latest and greatest independent intelligence report that proves for the hundredth time that this government went mad over flimsy evidence to wage a money pit war on Iraq. Fuck that noise. We needed to crush the Evil Doers, or at least the Evil Doers that peeved off the president’s daddy, and, as a result, we’re more than willing to bankroll the rebuilding of it for the next two decades no matter what. So save all your bleeding heart analysis for the French hippie freaks. We want Bolton.

We want the “quintessential kiss-up, kick-down sort of guy”. He represents the American spirit; uncompromising, self-aggrandizing, quick to judgment, and conveniently patriotic. His ambitions are our ambitions. Three million more of us put any doubts of this to rest on Election Day, and a couple of thousand more Ohio residents made it law. If Captain Shoo-In wants John Bolton, an oft-quoted anti-UN big mouth to kick the ass all over the world stage than so be it. You think those kids who come back in boxes every day from the Middle East or the family members they leave behind care who we piss off after two years of bloodshed?

Grow up.

There’s a new sheriff in town, and he has the badge to prove it. The proverbial cards are on the table. John Bolton is aces up and the pot goes to Washington DC.

This is the New World now. We don’t fiddle around with diplomacy. We have The Dick Chaney School of Batten Down The Hatches & Hang On To The Women & Children, Here Comes The U. S. of A. international view for ya. It’s the 9/11 blank check theory of foreign policy, and its here to stay, so deal with it. Maybe the rest of the planet should have gotten on board when we were scrambling around like lunatics looking for scapegoats. Then there would be no need for outcry and long Congressional hearings that frivolously spend our tax money on done deals.

Yeah, I know, Bolton screams and yells at secretaries and doesn’t particularly care about playing nice with other government agencies and he may or may not have treated Colin Powell like his bitch. It’s a small price to pay to jam a first class jerk off into the malaise of the United Nations. Give it a little spit shine and weaken its resolve to keep us from gutting the world to protect our interests. We’ve been cow towing to these fossils for far too long. We’re the muscle and the money of that operation, so instead of sitting around making pretty, its time to stop all the silly role playing and finally show the rest of this poor, docile planet who’s boss.

The administration and its mouthpieces like to call this appointment and its fallout Reform. We are reforming the United Nations. It is a way of reminding everyone that its main headquarters resides on our soil, a few blocks from where the towers went down and all this craziness ensued. Reforming means no more begging to enact our will on things. No more meetings. No more dancing for our supper. We are reforming the UN from ostensibly being an objective international forum to our blind handmaidens. It’s our address that bares the checks sent all over the place to combat famine and pestilence and it is our army that ousts beret-wearing religious war mongers, so we’re going to make some changes around here.

You know, Reform.

The mask is off. We no longer appear to peddle global compassion, while doing whatever the hell we want. Now we come hard, without the song and story. No more fancy pants chats or teary-eyed speeches from phonies like Ronald Reagan and Bill Clinton. We have the Texas Oil Man in charge; the Shit-Kicker King. He is our hero. He is the savior of the Western World. The British know it; now so will everyone else slow on the take, like the Democrats, who still think they have a say in this.

Those woefully uniformed who are left out there will now finally know what kind of bulldozer is coming to rearrange the furniture, get acquainted with the Bull/China Shop policies we got going here. No one will dare feign surprise about what kind of mayhem follows. There’s a new sheriff in town, and he has the badge to prove it. The proverbial cards are on the table. John Bolton is aces up and the pot goes to Washington DC.

Cue the madman with the axe, taking chunks from the bathroom door.

“Heeeeeere’s Johnny.”

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