I watched the State of the Union speech with Katie Couric last night, and heard her say at least six times, "He faces a real-ly tough crowd tonight." But I didn't hear a single cat call. Not one brave soul stood up and challenged the war criminal. No one threw a tomato, and no one snuck in a hand grenade to throw either. Not a soul even thought of shouting, "What about Israel's nookular weapons?" For all intents and purposes, Saint Peter opened up the Pearly Gates and invited el Diablo right in. If that is a tough crowd, we are indeed a civil society.
Nancy Pelosi had four noticeable organisms before Bush got more than five words into what sent her bounding to feet no less that fifteen times. Poor Nancy. It must be tough being in a state of permanent sexual arousal relieved only by climax, to be immediately followed again by sexual arousal. The world is fortunate she managed to keep her offspring to less than twenty or thirty.
We are a godly and pure nation still, as no one mentioned the country's first Muslim Congressman. It simply would have been in bad taste.
Poor Dick Cheney for the night was relegated to playing the part of the State Eunuch, but managed to save some face by keeping himself from looking Nancy directly in the face, or uttering how rough he would have done her when he was younger. To describe my own feelings about Nancy Pelosi requires alluding to a ten foot pole and would not be fit to print about the Speaker of the House of Representatives as she conducted herself at the State of the Union Address. The first Madam Speaker left satisfied, and that was spectacle enough.
I would have liked to have been there to test the blood alcohol levels of everyone in the esteemed crowd, especially those guys up front wearing the black dresses, somber as they were forced to be by their queer costumes. Each one looked a freak of nature. Looks can be deceiving, and nature should not be slandered so.
President Bush invited yet more Mexicans into the country again in a pledge to work towards a special guest worker program to compliment the 20-some million illegal aliens who've already taken up residence in the U.S. under his administration. Nancy out of an apparent preference for hot Latin men bounded to her feet and rubbed her palms and the tips of her fingers together excitedly. Cheney smirked, or at least he seemed to smirk. He seems always to smirk. I think it is the best he can do these days.
I'm as old as Dick Cheney. I've seen pictures of him when he was younger, the age I still feel, and that age my psyche is still comfortable with, late twenties early thirties... But I cannot imagine where they dug this contemporary of mine up from. Bush too. On what planet a world away from mine were these two spawned? From whence did they really slither?
President Bush declared the economy strong, and growing, and made a pledge to keep it strong and growing... I shuddered. The economy is strong, and it is growing, and I know what that means for the future prospects of humanity in our nation and in our world. There will be another war, and another, if this one is ever brought to an end, which clearly was not the intention of anyone either at the rostrum or in the audience at the State of the Union speech made last night. "We need a stronger military," was happily received.
That Virginia raised army brat, who played the part of the heir apparent prince standing in the wings offering to take the reins should the opportunity arise; he made it clear, the last great army general was Eisenhower. He didn't mention that Eisenhower only became great after several heart attacks and the sureness of mortality forced him to look at what was transpiring on the planet he grew to love more with the conscience of death lingering over him.
President Bush asked Americans to sacrifice. He asked us to reduce gasoline consumption by 20% by the year 2020. Everyone liked that take. There has never been a State of the Union Address goal that has ever been met. This fit in well with what sort of sacrifices this gluttonous crowd of guillotine bait was willing to commit to make. The gasoline consumption just to ferry this devilish throng out to Arlington, Virginia to the mock chamber of the House of Representatives in their limousines probably put the Oxygen mask on most of them as they left the underground parking lot. And the parties afterward were probably pretty swell, shrimp, lobster, steak, caviar for the ladies and, plenty of booze for everyone, no doubt the place to be, if you were one of this aristocratic crowd of pretenders.
I was encouraged by the President's State of the Union Address message drafted by so many cunning grads from elite universities, each in their own right an up-and-coming despot, and the likeness of so many of the lifers in the crowd there last night. The speech was definitely not intended to reach the American people whom everyone in Washington D.C. is right in fearing these days. This was encouraging.
No. President Bush's State of the Union Address was directed at Washington insiders and to the processes of political elitism. Its was a wink, and it was a nod. It was a warm embrace the likes of which King Louis XVI and his queen, Marie-Antoinette would have recognized as quite Parisian.
But I was encouraged. I could see the Democrats licking their chops. But I was still quite encouraged. I was encouraged because I sensed the wholesale sentiment in the grand room was coupled with fingers crossed all around as these pretenders prayed someone among the crowd could keep the charade going for another eight or ten years, which is all the planning anyone ever does in Washington D.C.
All the parties afterward lasting well through the night were no doubt joyously fatuous events where the ladies all showed off their hastily clasped pearls and their quickly donned diamonds, and for some a quick change into more suitable, more fashionable garb too.
And all the fine gentlemen grinned ear to ear as they each congratulated each other for having made the cut for the team finals. Two years from now a new quarterback will be selected. And, all the cheerleaders are hoping their guy will get the call.
Don Robertson, The American Philosopher
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