Happy 40th, George P.


In honor of George Partington's 40th, I've posted one of his pieces. Not only is George a gifted writer, but he's also one the finest people you'd ever want to meet. I'm blessed to have had him as a friend now for 20 years.
Don't worry, George; you haven't had any hair now for a long time ;) I would say you're like a fine wine, but hey, i doubt if either one of us will ever mature....Here's to 40 more! Thanks for being there, buddy!


Bush addresses the nation
by George Partington

My fellow Amuricuns,


I come to you today, and before congress, to talk about War, and because I was told it was on my schedule, right after beer, pretzels and football. I should be done in time for ESPN’s Sunday night game.

Uh…just kidding about the beer..haw.

War, my friends, is surious bidness, and not to be undertaken lightly. That’s why we’ve been preparing you for this war for months. Hopefully, none of you has thought about much else for a while now. And for you in the blogging community, you should be scared shitless by Andrew Sullivan’s and Glenn Reynolds’ warnings of hoards of evil Islamic persons washing over our shores.


I have made our case to the world, and what I think is what I believe. And I stand by my word, and that should be good enough for you. We in the administration have had our disagreements …(smirk), but now the debate is over! We WILL effect a regime change, and find a dictator we like.


We have been putting troops into place, moving warships, and building bombs and other nasty surprises, for months. If we didn’t start killing now, it would look bad, like we were weak and impotent or somethin.


Make no mistake: Amuricuh is ready to eradicate this evil from the face of the earth, and by our estimates, that will only cost the wanton murder of 10,000 men, women and children.


This is a price we are prepared to pay!


(standing ovation)


Now, we are going to attack Iran, I mean Syria..uh…shit, I keep getting the whole War schedule mixed up….is this live?


(advisor in mic in W’s ear: don’t worry about it, the media will pretend it didn’t happen, causing intelligent people who can see with their own eyes to become that much more isolated. Heck, most of the stories on this speech have already been written – they’re trotting out comparisons to Churchill again, hee.)


We are going to attack Iraq. There will be an Attack on Iraq, it will be the End of Saddam Hussein, Gulf War II, Still Enduring Freedom, Bombs over Baghdad…we’re still deciding on the name.


Richard, Donnie, Dick, Paul, my Dad, and James decided, back when we were busy protesting vote counting, that once we got in this here White House, we’d be all over the Middle East, starting with that motherfu…starting with Saddam Hussein! The…most….evil…man….since….Hitler! And he’s crazy!


(more saber rattling from the crowd)


Now, in closing, I’d like to paragra…parenthe..parrr…uh…use some words from Gordon Gekko in the movie Wall Street:


War clarifies and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit. War in all its forms, War for (our way of) life, for money, for love, for knowledge has marked the upward surge of mankind. War will save not only (numerous friends’ corporations), but that other malfunctioning corporation, the USA.


War is good. War is right. War works.


Thank you, and good night.

(Coming up on FOX! The Jets and the Dolphins battle it out for superiority on the gridiron. Sit back and watch while they pummel (oof), gouge (arrghhh), punch (biff!) and slam (ugghhh!) the livin shit out of each other. On FOX!)

Seesaw


god is light, the devil says to him
Hahaha where the hell you been?
Floating around a bit
Shall we do it again?
The two of them guffaw
On an anthropomorphic seesaw
What seems like a lifetime to us
To them is only a humorous moment

god is light the devil exclaims
As he catapults him into space
The weight of his heavy ass
Dangles like gravity o’er mass
Truth and compassion drip from his face
But it’s just a fading trace
Too commonplace, too trite
To be caught by human sight
An effete mist drapes the morn
Bullied by a burly sun
Hiding behind the unphased moon
Landing in a child’s balloon
Waiting to burst
With the Leviathan view
Of the universe;
An ever-growing whale turning
The waters to blood
In search of total dominance;

We’ve had enough of that shit!
Say the Old Empires to the New Kid
But what can you say to an adolescent
Who knows nothing of history or mortality
Flexing his muscle toys proudly
Having his fun in a virtual sun
Dropping his video bombs
In a game of Us versus Them
Where death and life have no meaning.

It’s written there in the moon
Myself the empire a child’s balloon
Waxing and waning as all things do.
Where everything becomes its opposite.
Truth, freedom and all other concepts
Folding in on themselves;
Twisting and turning but never breaking;
For the human mind is a wondrous thing.
Capable of bending to the machine:
Running on power and fear
Separating the chaff from the dear--
Eliminating the weak, the dumb, the deluded few
Who cannot conform to the view
Who still insist on gazing into space
Searching for the trace
Of what’s never been seen
The glimpse beyond duality
The evolution of the soul
A black hole
Where god floats