Is Our Flunkies Leakin’?
Thoughts (or something) from the Oval Office
by
Jack Kenny
by Jack Kenny
Doggone
dams! Used to be the only leaks we had to worry about around here
were people talkin’ to the damn press. Well, maybe they are. Maybe
that’s why I’m gettin’ so much bad publicity. I’ll have to ask Turdblossom:
Is our flunkies leakin'?
Look
at this headline: "Cheney in Disaster Zone" Does that mean he’s
here or in New Orleans? What the hell’s he doin’ in New Orleans
anyway – showin’ ’em all how he walks on water? What’s he doin’
in a dangerous place? Doesn’t he have other priorities?
An’
what’s he gonna do, tell ’em all that his heart goes out to ’em?
Hell, I already said that. An’ his heart’s barely keepin’ him
alive, what the hell good’s it gonna do the people o’ Louisiana?
Not
enough I have to deal with wars and floods, I got these jackasses
in the press nippin’ at my heels. Wantin’ to know if I’m wearin’
a new wristband now, one that says WWND – What Would Noah Do? Smart
asses!
Even
the conservative press is turnin’ against me. The Dallas Mornin’
News, for God’s sake! An’ the Union Leader, way up there in New
Hampshire. (What the hell do they know about hurricanes?) They think
I didn’t do too good a job in dealin’ with this disaster. Funny,
they’ve never bitched about our disaster in Iraq. But I guess the
Gulf o’ Mexico’s a little closer to home. In our hemisphere, right
off our shores. Well, hell, people think I don’t know that? How
dumb do they think I am? (I’ll have to ask Turdblossom.)
So
I take too much vacation, do I? Hell, do they think I haven’t noticed
that the ones that’s bitchin’ most about me bein’ away from this
damn office is the same ones that didn’t want me here in the first
place? It’s like complainin’ that the food is awful an’ then bitchin’
that the portions is too small! What hell do they want from me,
anyway?
Hell,
they’re even’ dumpin’ on my man, Brownie, who’s been doin’ a hell
of a job at FEMA. Even’ makin’ fun o’ him an’ those Arabian horses.
Well, if he can get some horses from the Arabians after all we been
doin’ for the Middle East, I say more power to ’im. An’ if the man
knows horses, then FEMA’s as good a place as any for ’im. He’d be
overqualified for a job in communications, dealin’ with the White
House press corps. That’s only one end of a damn horse.
I’ll
have to have somebody check my schedule an’ see if we can’t arrange
a ceremony o’ some kind where I can give a medal or somethin’ to
Brownie for his meritorious service under very trying damn circumstances.
It’s the least I can do. Hell, I gave medals to Tenet an’ some o’
those other smart guys that got me into "Operation Watch My
Cakewalk." Maybe I can find another job for Brownie if the
heat gets too much for ’im at FEMA. Maybe somethin’ll open up after
Wolfie gets through stickin’ it to the world over there at the World
Bank.
I
hate all this partisan finger-pointin’ an’ accusation stuff. I hate
it even more when they hurl that word "accountability"
at me. Accountabilities is for schools an’ teachers an’ stuff. I’ll
have to tell Turdblossom to get the word out: No one is to use that
word during this time of "no finger-pointing." No accountability
until further notice.
Isn’t
there some way we can blame this Katrina thing on Dan Rather? Where
is Turdblossom, anyway?
Never
mind. At least we’re showin’ the country what it means to be a compassionate
conservative. ’Cause we just got the Congress to approve $518 billion
in disaster relief an’ that’s a lot o’ doggone compassion. I’m sure
some of it’s invested in pork barrels an’ things that’ll pay dividends
at election time. An’ when we run out o’ money an compassion an’
stuff, we’ll return to those bedrock Republican principles an’ remind
the people that all they need is a little pluck an’ determination
an’ self-reliance an’ they can pick theirselves up by their own
soggy bootstraps an’ walk on water, like the vice president.
’Cause
stuff happens, like Rummy said, an’ we’re ready to deal with it.
’Cause you go to hurricanes with the preparation you’ve got, not
the plans ya didn’t make. Death encourages a depressing view of
war and other government disasters, but ya gotta stay the course
an’ see it through. So we’re not pullin’ outta New Orleans until
the people there can defend themselves. As the New Orleansians stand
up, we will stand down. But isolation an’ retreat will not abate
the flood nor keep our powder dry. An’ there’s no point lookin’
for a smokin’ gun, ’cause it could be a mushroom-shaped cloud an’
our country will stay the course, because we’re Americans and the
flag still stands for freedom an’ – wait a minute!
I
think somebody’s callin’ me. It could be Turdblossom. Or maybe the
vice president. Whatever. They’re callin’ for the president an’
I’m the president.
Gotta
go!
September
10, 2005
Manchester, NH, resident Jack Kenny [send
him mail] is a freelance writer.
Copyright
© 2005 LewRockwell.com
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