I always go on 20-mile bicycle rides with my personal physician, don’t you? So it’s not surprising to me our putative president, the Bushling, was pedaling around the ranch with his doctor – true fact – this past weekend, along with assorted yes-folks, bodyguards, policy wonks and pocket-protectors when DaPrez, um, fell off his two-wheeler and bashed his face in.
No one is saying if pretzels were involved.
Yes, it was a Bad Day at Black Rock for the Maximum Leader of the Free, and Not-So-Free, World. Here his daughters were graduating from college, and suddenly his face’s looking like Hamburger Helper.
Good thing he, unlike 42 million Americans, has health insurance.
Not that he was going. Apparently he and Laura were bagging their own daughters’ college graduations to spare them embarrassing scrutiny by Secret Service agents, yadda-yadda-yadda. No wonder Jenna and Barbara have had their, um, behavioral lapses. Was Bush-wah biking with his doctor in close attendance because maybe, just maybe, he has come majorly unglued lately?
All these … hassles.
Besides the Abu Ghraib prison torture photo scandal and then poor Nick Berg’s subsequent video beheading – if that really was Nick Berg and not just some old outtakes with John Walker Lindh and a Halloween dummy – there’s the Chalabi embarrassment, one day halting his $340,000 monthly payment, the next, raiding his home and – how symbolically – smashing his portrait.
Anyway, if Bush43’s personal physician is in constant attendance, doesn’t America have the right to know their Hand-Puppet-in-Chief, um, president is an incipient basket-case?
And have we paid sufficient attention to the never-married-as-far-as-we-know Condoleezza Rice’s recent oh-so-Freudian-slip referring to GWB as “my husband.”
Laura? You there, Babe?
Bush-Lite must be hyperventilating over whispers hardballer Rumsfeldstiltskin may be replaced by someone else lacking Rummy’s … poetic style. Bummer. Just when he was starting to kick real military butt by banning use of camera-phones in Abu Ghraib.
Similarly, Manhattan intuitive counselor “Sforza Destino” tells me taking pictures on New York City subways is now forbidden … for security reasons.
Is this my country, or some Dantesque … nightmare?
At a party, I bump into a professor friend who’s considering relocating to Montreal with his wife to escape the Madness of King George. Small houses for $80,000, he announces. But it’s so cold there, I shiver. Not really, he shrugs, you can walk around underground all winter without coming up for air.
Meanwhile, an Internet journalist in Ireland has a theory the USA is currently in coup /counter-coup mode. He means besides the hijacked last presidential election. In his view, various factions within the current government are also at war – turning Shock and Awe against … each other, and by extension, us. While one faction triggers the massive digital unmasking of the Abu Ghraib prison torture scandal, the opposing faction creates a bogus beheading video in an increasing Hollywoodization of our political culture.
And has anyone really contemplated the oddity of John Forbes Kerry considering delaying his nomination to raise more money? Just in case, so the latest rumor du jour goes, martial law is imposed after a “terrorist attack” and the elections are suspended?
But back to Bush’s face. The range of his injuries actually make him look like he was in a knock-down, drag-out fight. Nah! Never happened!
We live in interesting times, don’t we?