GPS mapping devices are a popular option in many new cars. With a click of a button and a quick look at the screen you can know, within a few yards, exactly where you are and where you need to go next. It’s a pity the Presidential limo doesn’t have one of these newfangled things.
Each time something happens in Iraq, Lord Bush and his cabal tries to spin it for us. At some point in their twirling monologues, you’re likely to hear the now-familiar phrase, “it’s a signal that we’ve turned another corner in Iraq”.
By my count, we’ve turned about eleventy-seven billion corners already. What the hell is Iraq, some sort of rat maze sans the comfort of cheese and shredded newspapers? Think about it. If you went for a Sunday drive and turned as many corners as we have in Iraq, you might as well have just stayed home. By now, you’d either be hopelessly lost or have arrived back in your own driveway by sheer lotto-beating luck.
Like they say, “No matter where you go, there you are.”
Ol’ Daniel Bush seems to have eyed a new corner leading us out of his wilderness. The Pentagon has announced they are moving a 3500-man brigade into Iraq to “temporarily” bolster the forces of the Coalition of the Inept. Meanwhile, Iraqis are hurling road bombs, suicide bombs, sectarian bombs, and probably stink bombs at our hapless troops caught in the crossfire.
Of course, this comes as no surprise to anyone except George and his Gang Who Couldn’t Straight. Everyone else – well, at least 2/3 of everyone else – knows this isn’t a corner. It’s a brick wall and they’re getting mighty tired of the pain caused from banging their collective heads against it.
A few months back, he said we’d turned a corner because the Iraqis voted. Aside from a populace with purple stained fingers, it didn’t amount to much. But, it was a corner turned, to be sure.
After several months of storming out of meetings and assorted infighting, the Iraqi Prime Minister heard his Mommy calling for dinner and promptly quit and went home. Surprise! Another corner turned.
Then, the Iraqis formed a government that immediately announced that it couldn’t agree on several top ministers, but what the hell, they’d press on anyway. Yet another corner turned.
Shortly afterward, we looked up and saw the glittery disco ball of spin starting to accelerate. “Pssst. Look over here. We’ll have the troops home by the end of the year. Really, it’s a slam dunk.” New corner turned? Not so much. Instead they said, “Send in the brigade and put the Christmas stockings away boys, it looks like we’re not going home like we thought.”
Since 9/11, we’ve turned enough corners to make us look like Bush’s fishing line on a perch expedition. He has one of his expensive, hand-tied flies stuck to his ass and furiously yanks away at his line, accomplishing nothing but tying himself up tighter and tighter. I can only imagine what a laugh Osama and the perch get out of this. Hell, I’d be laughing myself, but I’m too depressed by it all.
It appears George never learned one of the cardinal rules of fishing – some days they just aren’t biting. And when that happens, a smart angler knows to cut his line and wait for a better day. Instead, George just cusses and tries to untie his fishy mess, making things that much worse. He blindly fights on against the stubbornly knotted line and never does untie it, until . . . BANG! He runs headlong into a tight corner that puts another knot on his shockingly thick head.
So, I reckon it’s time for us to do something. Something like turn around to George in the back seat and yell, “George, stop it this instant! Don’t make me come back there and stop this war!