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So let me get this straight: Liberals, who weren’t fans of the war in Iraq in the first place, are supposedly going to be happy if a civil war breaks out. The same liberals who were accused of being cowards and hating the troops because we’ve been so adamantly in opposition to the war in Iraq, are going to be pleased that even more violence breaks out. In what kind of fucked up mind does that even begin to make sense? (I could compile a list for you, if you’d like…)
I think I have an answer, though: Conservatives themselves seem to want nothing more than to be right, and they assume it’s the same for everyone else. This is evidenced in their complete inability to admit mistakes or that they were wrong about something. They even go so far, as often illustrated in Scott McClellan press conferences, among other things, as to lie about things they’ve said in the past (e.g. Saddam was partially responsible for 9/11) in order to make it seem like they were right. What’s happening is, they’re projecting the glee they feel from any vindication that comes–regardless of context–onto everyone else.
Being proven right does not imply satisfaction or happiness. If we warn our friends or family members about icy road conditions, we aren’t going to be happy we were proven right when they slide off the road into a tree. We’re not going to be all giddy with glee if we warn our kids about running with scissors and they prove us right by falling and stabbing themselves in the bellies.
In the case of the war in Iraq, we’d rather not be vindicated, thanks. Whenever we are, we’re certainly not happy about it. We’re disappointed as hell, and frustrated at how our warnings have gone unheeded, but we’re certainly not in any way happy. When you’re talking about the loss of thousands of lives and the devastation of millions of others, any schadenfreude would be sick and inhuman. There are no liberals (no sane ones, at least) who would be happy about an exacerbation of the conflict in Iraq.
So for the Bill O’Reillys and Byron Yorks and Michelle Malkins and Ann Coulters and Kate O’Biernes (etc, etc, etc) of the world, let me make one thing very, very clear: You can clap and giggle with sadistic glee all you want whenever something terrible you predicted comes true. We didn’t want the war in Iraq, and despite watching the administration be proven wrong at every corner (e.g. no flower showers or chocolates; no WMDs), there’s no satisfaction to be had about an unnecessary blood bath, and I don’t see anything worth rejoicing about if this erupts even further into a sectarian civil war. Save your fucking breath.
So Bush–yeah, the same guy who holds the world record for the most times speaking the numbers nine and eleven aloud–is just thoroughly appalled, appalled, at America for getting worried that we’re selling a good number of major ports to the United Arab Emirates. Boy, what a surprise that must’ve been to him–people being afraid of terrorism! Who could’ve planted that idea in their heads? Where could they have ever developed such a preposterous notion that people in the Middle East might pose some kind of a threat? Who, I say, who? It just doesn’t make sense!
Think of all the shit you’ve heard over the last five years about how we all need to be terrified of these spooky people from the Middle East who want nothing more than to put airplanes through all our buildings. Bush and others in the administration have been working pretty hard since September 11th to stoke up the fear level in America. Even in speeches nearly five fucking years later, he’s still bringing it up, pounding it into our heads. “9/11 changed everything!” Republicans keep telling us that we need to have our phones tapped and terror suspects need to be held indefinitely and we need to let them read all our e-mail all because 9/11 changed everything. Can’t be too safe! Fuck, might have terrorists living in your damn cupboards getting into your Cheerios and shitting all over your dinner plates! Is that what you want?
They’ve stirred up this shit-pot of fear against Arabs, and they’re expecting people to be able to distinguish between all the different countries over there? Especially with the confusing politics of the whole thing. Osama was from Saudi Arabia, but they’re apparently our friends. I think the last election was a clear indication that most Americans–especially those that vote Republican–don’t give a baker’s shit about trying to understand the subtle nuances of politics and situations.
And, of course, it’s not like the Bush administration has been doing much to allay that confusion. Look at Saddam–he had nothing to do with terrorism (just ask the fuckin’ 9/11 Commission if you think the jury’s still out on that), yet Bush and his pals conflated Iraq with terror in order to take us to war. More of them spooky Arabs from that general, nebulous region with all the confusingly-named countries that end in “stan” and have too many consonants gonna come blow us all to tiny chunks with their nuky’ler bombs and make us die slow, choking, miserable deaths with unspeakable chemicals that’ll turn our lungs to jelly.
Then we’ve got the whole “Mohammed Cartoon” thing going on throughout the Middle East. That’s certainly not going to make anyone here comfortable with this sudden shift. All they’re going to think is that we’re selling our ports to people who are going to run and burn down the nearest Danish/French/etc. embassy.
But still, Bush is confused. He’s acting all disgusted and disappointed, like we’re all a dog that just took a big, greasy dump on the dresser in the Lincoln Bedroom. Want to know why Americans suddenly have this prejudiced attitude, George? Huh? Because of you. Because you spent the last four and a half fucking years shouting the word “terror” in their ears, making them all paranoid that they’ve got ‘em living under their beds, up in a little hole scratched in the box springs, to the point where every dark-skinned person they see becomes a shadowy, threatening menace who’s going to follow them home and crash a Cessna through their bedroom right where they hung the American flag.
Though, that only applies to roughly half. The rest of us, we’re mostly just shocked with how unabashedly hypocritical you’re being. We’ve been pointing out for years how huge a fascist you’ve been with all these NSA wiretaps, and the Patriot Act, and Abu Ghraib, and all this other ghastly stuff done in the name of “terrorism”, and now you just turn around and expect everyone to be okay with you selling ports to a country in the Middle East you’ve been implying we all fear, without even adhering to the necessary procedures for such a transaction? Honestly, I don’t give a shit. The UAE seems a-ok to me. I’ve heard a bunch of stories about how well they run their ports. Seems like a good deal. But you’re an idiot if you think all the Americans you’ve trained to shit their pants whenever you mention “9/11″ or “terror”, like dogs that salivate when they hear bells, are going to just roll over for this.
And, seriously, I’m frustrated, too, but from a different angle. There are people who lost loved ones in those attacks, and people who were traumatized by what they saw. It’s hard for a lot of them to move on. Those who do will always have a piece of them stuck there, on that day, like having a house where there’s a television in the corner of one of the rooms that plays the same show on a loop over and over the entire time you’re living there and you can’t turn it off. Some of them might never recover. I’ve lived in New York City since the attacks, and it seems, though, like most of the people there have put it behind them and realized that there’s more to do in life than dwell.
But then you have these people living in the middle of South Dakota and Montana and such who had absolutely no connection to anyone involved in the September 11th attacks–didn’t even know anyone who has ever been on an airplane or who lived within miles of New York City or Washington D.C.–who are still stuck on it. They just can’t get over the attacks. They have posters hanging in their cubicles, and they quietly weep themselves to sleep at least one night a week thinking about how terrible it all was. Every time they hear someone say the words “nine”, “eleven”, “September”, or “World Trade Center”, they close their eyes and sigh a little like they were remembering their beloved puppy that died last week. So, of course, whenever Bush gives his speeches, they’re practically in tears.
Get over it. You’re the same fucking people who feel personally affected by the breakups of characters on soap operas. Billy and Jodie broke up, and it all just affects you so, so personally. You have pretty comfortable lives with little of any major significance to worry about, so you have to seek things out and obsess about them. It was all just a TV show to you in the first place, watching the towers crumble five hundred times on every single news channel. You don’t have terrorists living under your beds. You’re not even remotely close to being a potential terrorist target. They’re not going to kidnap your kids on the way home from school and behead them on Al Jazeera. They’re not going to break into your house in the middle of the night wearing turbans and wielding scimitars, shouting “Jihad! Jihad!”, to wipe their asses with all of your American flags before blowing you all up with a car bomb.
Just get the fuck over it. If people in New York City, who have lost loved ones and breathed the smoke and dust and ash of ruined concrete and papers and computers and bodies, can take steps to move on with their lives, and can keep from being paranoid about people from the Middle East (and, for some of them, actually educate themselves on the region), and be unaffected by this president’s incessant appeals to fear of terrorism then there’s not a single fucking reason you can’t as well.
Today started out to be a surprisingly nice end to a very crappy week. A couple of my wives got together and got me a new hat. It looks really good on me, they all say. In return, I decided not to have them beaten today. It was pleasant.
It hasn’t all been nice, though. I went on a walk through the cave after breakfast. I think some of my men might be losing respect for me. I haven’t really done anything in a while. Unlike the infidel, I know there’s only so far 9/11 can carry me. I heard some of them saying they don’t think this is turning out to be so great a jihad after all. Maybe I should strangle a puppy or something to buy some time until I can come up with another plan.
I’ve had writers block lately when it comes to thinking up attacks on the infidel. I’ve been trying, but nothing I think of can top flying airplanes into buildings. And it’s not like I’m going to impress anyone with more car bombings. That’s kind of getting to be an oversaturated market, right there. Maybe I’m just a one-hit wonder. *sigh*
Omar tells me he has been looking into satellite internet, and thinks he might be able to work something out. He wants to show me something in another part of the cave, so I guess I’d better go look.
Current Music: The Flesh Failures – Let The Sun Shine In
Current Mood: A little better, for a change ~_~
In reaction to a Republican attempt to prevent gays, lesbians, bisexuals or transgendered persons (with a very loose definition of the term) from adopting children, an Ohio legislator has introduced a joke proposal to prevent Republicans from adopting children.
As humorous an idea as it is, it does have merit. Er, well, as much merit as any anti-gay-adoption legislation has, at least. Slightly more, in fact. After all, there’s very little doubt that people choose to be Republican. And as little as Jesus mentioned homosexuality (I don’t think he did even once, in fact), he sure talked rather extensively about helping the poor. Republican values–especially financially–seem to run in direct conflict with the message of Jesus. And do we really want to subject our orphans to this anti-Christian, Republican way of life?
Reminds me of how depressingly out of shape I am. Maybe I should start exercising.
This one isn’t as bad as the last one. This is probably because he wasn’t trying to make some kind of a statement with it. Still, not all that funny, I think because it uses a joke so old there’s evidence of it pre-dating tool use among early humans.
Here’s the original:
…and here’s what I made of it (two, this week):
P.S. – You can tell he just totally wants to fuck these characters. I mean, I know it’s kind of an exaggerated stylization for the most part, but have you ever seen women standing around like that talking to each other?
It’s another one of those clumsy mornings. I banged my wrist against the wall while looking around for one of my pairs of boots, and now I have a bruise forming. Then, when I finally found those damn things, when I went to tie them, I got friction burn on my fingers from the laces.
Bah. I should just go back to bed. It’s not like I’ll be doing anything important today anyway. Omar thinks I should do another video, but I don’t know. I’ve been feeling pretty camera shy lately, with the depression and everything. Maybe I’ll do another audio tape. Or, I don’t know, draw a picture of an airplane crashing into the Statue of Liberty or something, and mail it to the White House. I just don’t even feel like trying today. They’re not going to listen to me anyway.
My wives have been trying to cheer me up, but it’s no use. I’m starting to think that maybe I need some medication for this. What’s the one with the sad little cartoon ball that rolls around under a rain cloud? Paxil? I don’t know. I’ll have to watch closer the next time it’s on. I wish I could look it up online.
Omar’s looking into the wifi thing, but he said it might not be a good idea because it may give away our location to the infidel. I’m beginning to think it might be worth it. I don’t think they’re looking for me anymore anyway. *sigh*
I’m going to go for a walk to the edge of the cave. Maybe that will cheer me up. I went through all the trouble of getting my boots on, so I might as well do something.
Current Music: Morrissey – America is Not the World
Current Mood: Still depressed ._.
There is something blissfully absurd about the recent incident wherein Cheney shot a man in the face.
It was basically a perfect tableau of surreal incompetence. Dick Cheney, who was elected by a nation-wide cabal of morons to sit a heartbeat from the Presidency, was gunning down fattened quail for no clear reason with a few colleagues. And then, as one flew overhead, a man who clearly enough at least knows what you do and do not do with weapons, and that this is not one of them, turns around and blasts at it, instead hitting a 78-year-old man in the face with a shotgun.
I can only imagine the look on Dick Cheney’s face then. It would be like the expression George Bush is in the habit of making, transposed onto the visage of a man whose conscience was strangled by a malign intellect rather than buried by a malicious negligence: the sudden realization that he might just have done something terribly, terribly wrong, struggling against the dyed-in-the-wool belief that he never does anything wrong – because that is his job.
And it would evolve a little, as his big, clever brain cycles through all the possible ways to spin this and realizes there is no possible way to make this look like anything but a monstrous fuckup.
He has just shot an acquaintance and colleague in the face for no good reason, and at least to some degree, he is going to suffer. One imagines the long-time Texas Republican fundraiser cursing Cheney’s name furiously with what might be for all he knows his last breath, and Cheney, upon finding words, saying ‘Well, fuck me’.
The ironic part about this is that had he served in Vietnam, nothing about that would be new to him. This is the first time in Dick Cheney’s life he had seen a man shot, and he did it. Must have been fairly confusing, that – a mix of exhilaration, shame, and unshakeable remorse. He probably threw up a little – all the more if he was drunk, as I’ve been told he might have been – and once he regained his composure, got the dried-up GOP whore who ran the place and formulated an alibi. A legitimate reason to shoot a 78-year-old man in the face.
The game warden, of course, called bullshit. You do not shoot a man in the face. If he jumps up in front of you while you are firing, it might be excusable. Even the NRA, which takes what you might call a cavalier attitude about the prospect of aggravated assault, advises one to think first, shoot second.
Cheney sobers up a little – drunk or no, you kind of need a bit of time to recover from shooting a dude in the face – and realizes that nobody who doesn’t need to can know about this. Once word gets to Scott McClellan, he probably unceremoniously shits himself. Grows apoleptic with rage at the Vice-President. ‘You thought we could cover up *what*? You dumb motherfucker, we’re going to fry over this. It’s a fucking election year and you’re trying to cover up an *accidental shooting*? I’m going to pistolwhip your entire fucking family. You need to keep the fuck out of DC or I swear I am going to.’
McClellan immediately, over Dick’s objections, starts making the appropriate calls. George Bush, about a day after the fact, learns that the man who would replace him were the unthinkable to occur has recently shot a man in the face. I can’t imagine him being too pleased.
Condoleeza Rice, who is probably Cheney’s biggest political rival among the lot – he repeatedly sytmied her rise to her current position out of a sort of intra-partisan rancor – probably felt giddy at the prospect of Cheney stepping down; not only would a major rival in the White House be out of commission, but she’d be that much closer to the line of succession and chances are fairly good she’d be tapped as a replacement VP. She’s fairly popular and I don’t think people would accept, or the Bush team would try, another Ford-esque faceless stand-in.
And Rumsfeld, being a ferocious fan of any kind of wanton bloodshed, probably went home and laid the pole to the wife so hard she could barely walk come Monday.