President on Another Planet
By Eugene Robinson
Tuesday, August 22, 2006; A15
For a moment there, I was almost encouraged. George W. Bush, the most resolutely incurious and inflexible of presidents, was reported last week to have been surprised at seeing Iraqi citizens -- who ought to be grateful beneficiaries of the American occupation, I mean "liberation" -- demonstrating in support of Hezbollah and against Israel.
Surprise would be a start, since it would mean the Decider was admitting novel facts to his settled base of knowledge and reacting to them. Alas, it seems the door to the presidential mind is still locked tight. "I don't remember being surprised," he said at his news conference yesterday. "I'm not sure what they mean by that."
I'm guessing "they" might mean that when you try to impose your simplistic, black-and-white template on a kaleidoscopic world, and you end up setting the Middle East on fire, either you're surprised or you're not paying attention. But that's just me.
As for George Bush, what on earth is on his mind?
Even conservatives have begun openly assessing the president's intellect, especially its impermeability to new information. Cable television pundit Joe Scarborough, a former Republican congressman, devoted a segment of his MSNBC show to "George Bush's mental weakness," with a legend at the bottom of the screen that impertinently asked: "IS BUSH AN 'IDIOT'?"
It's tempting to go there, but I'm not sure we'd get very far. While we have the president on the couch, I'm more interested in trying to understand his emotional response -- or lack of response -- to the chaos he has spawned.
According to the Iraqi government, 3,438 civilians were killed in July, making it the bloodiest month since the invasion. The president was asked yesterday whether the failure of the U.S.-backed "unity" government to stem the orgy of sectarian carnage disappoints him, and he said that no, it didn't. How, I wonder, is that possible? Does he believe it would be a sign of weakness to admit that the flowering of democracy in Iraq isn't going exactly as planned? Does he believe saying everything's just fine will make it so? Is he in denial? Or do 3,438 deaths really just roll off his back after he's had his workout and a nice bike ride?
"I hear a lot of talk about civil war" in Iraq, he allowed -- much of it apparently from his own generals, who have been increasingly bold in using the once-forbidden phrase -- but all that talk doesn't seem to penetrate very far. To the president, is all the bad news from Iraq just "talk" without objective reality?
Here's another line from the president's news conference: "What's very interesting about the violence in Lebanon and the violence in Iraq and the violence in Gaza is this: These are all groups of terrorists who are trying to stop the advance of democracy."
Now, whatever you think about George Bush's intellect, he knows full well that the Hamas government in Gaza was democratically elected. He also knows full well that Hezbollah participates in the democratically elected government of Lebanon, or what's left of Lebanon. And so he has to know full well that U.S.-backed Israeli assaults on Gaza and Lebanon -- even if you believe they were justified -- had the impact of crippling, if not crushing, two nascent democracies of the kind the Bush administration wants to cultivate throughout the Middle East.
He also knows that the Iraqi government has real sovereignty over only the Green Zone in Baghdad -- a fortress made secure by the presence of U.S. troops -- and assorted other enclaves where American and British troops enforce the peace. He has heard the leader of that nominal government praise Hezbollah and denounce Israel.
So when the president lauds democracy as the magic elixir that will cure the scourge of terrorism, is he really putting faith in his favorite mantra rather than his lying eyes? Is his view of the world so unchangeable that he dismisses actual events the way he dismisses mere "talk''?
Or is he just trying to hold on until January 2009, when all this will become somebody else's problem?
In his news conference, the Decider did make a couple of nods to objective reality. He admitted in plain language that Iraq had nothing to do with the Sept. 11 attacks and possessed no weapons of mass destruction -- in other words, that his rationale for this elective, preemptive war had no substance. And he acknowledged a certain occasional exasperation.
"Frustrated? Sometimes I'm frustrated. Rarely surprised," the president said. "Sometimes I'm happy. This is -- but war is not a time of joy. These aren't joyous times."
No, they're not.
The writer will take questions today at 1 p.m. on www.washingtonpost.com. His e-mail address iseugenerobinson@washpost.com.
© 2006 The Washington Post Company
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Thursday, August 03, 2006
How old is Cheney?
From The Huffington Post:
Dear Oracle:
How do they keep Vice President Cheney alive? Isn't he like 500 years old, or something?
- Denzel Boone, Cooter, Missouri
Dear Denzel:
Your curiosity is not unusual – I've received more letters on this topic in the past year than any other, asking about rumors linking the Vice President to ancient "blood cults," and to prehistoric extinctions blamed in native legend on the "Cha-uh-Nay," a malevolent wind spirit that "set upon the mammoth beasts and devoured them where they stood, so their bones shivered whitely for a moment amidst the meat bees, then rattled to the dirt."
The truth is, Vice President Cheney's exact age is unknown because his father never married his mother. Technically, this makes him a "bastard" – though of course we all know him to be above reproach, the sober Wally Cleaver to President Bush's mischievous Eddie Haskell – and in the unforgiving frontier days when he was born, bastard births were not recorded. (Estimates of the Vice President's age, by an informal panel of experts assembled last night at Gurke's G Spot, a nearby lounge, ranged from 130 to 165.)
We do know that Mr. Cheney was born in what became the Wyoming Territory, to a woman called Deadeye Daisy Cheney, who rose from "varmint plinker" (exterminating prairie dogs with a slingshot) to run a chain of mixed-meat jerky stands along the route of the transcontinental railroad. It was only his mother's hard work and sacrifice that saved Mr. Cheney from the typical fate of a bastard, cleaning spittoons or geeking for medicine shows.
How is the Vice President kept alive through all his heart attacks and other ailments?
With fresh organs from the War on Terror.
The organs are harvested from dying insurgents and terrorists, then flown fresh daily from the Middle East to a secret medical facility in Virginia. There, in a former intensive-care nursery, rows of cribs hold hearts, spleens, livers, etc., ready for implantation.
(Organs not used within 72 hours are picked up by licensed meat scavengers for sale to rendering plants up and down Interstate 95. Coincidentally, the CIA, also based in Virginia, has a "rendition" program that sends terrorists back to the nations that spawned them, so they can get the flaying they deserve.)
Though the transplant program runs with typical Bush administration efficiency, there have been a few screw-ups, like the time the janitor accidentally turned off power to the nursery, and surgeons had to implant the heart of a pig from a nearby farm in the Vice President – alongside the leaking terrorist heart already there – to get him through a televised campaign debate.
That is why the Vice President – renowned for his charming but razor-sharp debating style – was "bedah, bedah, bedahing" like Porky Pig during the debate: his Islamo-fascist heart was rejecting his pork heart.
Luckily, soon after the debate was over, sturdier organs became available when what may have been the last Euphrates crocodile on earth was run over by a speeding Humvee in the marshlands of southern Iraq. The Euphrates crocodile is an ancient creature, with 6 hearts, 7 stomachs and 3 livers, and the Vice President came out of surgery like his old self – full of piss, vinegar and crocodile parts.
- A.O.
Dear Oracle:
How do they keep Vice President Cheney alive? Isn't he like 500 years old, or something?
- Denzel Boone, Cooter, Missouri
Dear Denzel:
Your curiosity is not unusual – I've received more letters on this topic in the past year than any other, asking about rumors linking the Vice President to ancient "blood cults," and to prehistoric extinctions blamed in native legend on the "Cha-uh-Nay," a malevolent wind spirit that "set upon the mammoth beasts and devoured them where they stood, so their bones shivered whitely for a moment amidst the meat bees, then rattled to the dirt."
The truth is, Vice President Cheney's exact age is unknown because his father never married his mother. Technically, this makes him a "bastard" – though of course we all know him to be above reproach, the sober Wally Cleaver to President Bush's mischievous Eddie Haskell – and in the unforgiving frontier days when he was born, bastard births were not recorded. (Estimates of the Vice President's age, by an informal panel of experts assembled last night at Gurke's G Spot, a nearby lounge, ranged from 130 to 165.)
We do know that Mr. Cheney was born in what became the Wyoming Territory, to a woman called Deadeye Daisy Cheney, who rose from "varmint plinker" (exterminating prairie dogs with a slingshot) to run a chain of mixed-meat jerky stands along the route of the transcontinental railroad. It was only his mother's hard work and sacrifice that saved Mr. Cheney from the typical fate of a bastard, cleaning spittoons or geeking for medicine shows.
How is the Vice President kept alive through all his heart attacks and other ailments?
With fresh organs from the War on Terror.
The organs are harvested from dying insurgents and terrorists, then flown fresh daily from the Middle East to a secret medical facility in Virginia. There, in a former intensive-care nursery, rows of cribs hold hearts, spleens, livers, etc., ready for implantation.
(Organs not used within 72 hours are picked up by licensed meat scavengers for sale to rendering plants up and down Interstate 95. Coincidentally, the CIA, also based in Virginia, has a "rendition" program that sends terrorists back to the nations that spawned them, so they can get the flaying they deserve.)
Though the transplant program runs with typical Bush administration efficiency, there have been a few screw-ups, like the time the janitor accidentally turned off power to the nursery, and surgeons had to implant the heart of a pig from a nearby farm in the Vice President – alongside the leaking terrorist heart already there – to get him through a televised campaign debate.
That is why the Vice President – renowned for his charming but razor-sharp debating style – was "bedah, bedah, bedahing" like Porky Pig during the debate: his Islamo-fascist heart was rejecting his pork heart.
Luckily, soon after the debate was over, sturdier organs became available when what may have been the last Euphrates crocodile on earth was run over by a speeding Humvee in the marshlands of southern Iraq. The Euphrates crocodile is an ancient creature, with 6 hearts, 7 stomachs and 3 livers, and the Vice President came out of surgery like his old self – full of piss, vinegar and crocodile parts.
- A.O.
What I Wish I'd Known
From I Feel Bad About My Neck and other thoughts on being a woman, by Nora Ephron
People have only one way to be.
Buy, don't rent.
Never marry a man you wouldn't want to be divorced from.
Don't cover a couch with anything that isn't more or less beige.
Don't buy anything that is 100 per cent wool even if it seems to be very soft and not particularly itchy when you try it on in the store.
You can't be friends with people who call after 11 p.m.
Block everyone on your instant mail.
The world's greatest babysitter burns out after two and a half years.
You never know.
The last four years of psychoanalysis are a waste of money.
The plane is not going to crash.
Anything you think is wrong with your body at the age of 35 you will be nostalgic for at the age of 45.
At the age of 55 you will get a saggy roll just above your waist even if you are painfully thin.
This saggy roll just above your waist will be especially visible from the back and will force you to re-evaluate half the clothes in your closet, especially the white shirts.
Write everything down.
Keep a journal.
Take more pictures.
The empty nest is underrated.
You can order more than one dessert.
You can't own too many black turtleneck sweaters.
If the shoe doesn't fit in the shoe store, it's never going to fit.
When your children are teenagers, it's important to have a dog so that someone in the house is happy to see you.
Back up your files.
Overinsure everything.
Whenever someone says the words, "Our friendship is more important than this," watch out, because it almost never is.
There's no point in making piecrust from scratch.
The reason you're waking up in the middle of the night is the second glass of wine.
The minute you decide to get divorced, go see a lawyer and file the papers.
Overtip.
Never let them know.
If only one-third of your clothes are mistakes, you're ahead of the game.
If friends ask you to be their child's guardian in case they die in a plane crash, you can say no.
There are no secrets.
People have only one way to be.
Buy, don't rent.
Never marry a man you wouldn't want to be divorced from.
Don't cover a couch with anything that isn't more or less beige.
Don't buy anything that is 100 per cent wool even if it seems to be very soft and not particularly itchy when you try it on in the store.
You can't be friends with people who call after 11 p.m.
Block everyone on your instant mail.
The world's greatest babysitter burns out after two and a half years.
You never know.
The last four years of psychoanalysis are a waste of money.
The plane is not going to crash.
Anything you think is wrong with your body at the age of 35 you will be nostalgic for at the age of 45.
At the age of 55 you will get a saggy roll just above your waist even if you are painfully thin.
This saggy roll just above your waist will be especially visible from the back and will force you to re-evaluate half the clothes in your closet, especially the white shirts.
Write everything down.
Keep a journal.
Take more pictures.
The empty nest is underrated.
You can order more than one dessert.
You can't own too many black turtleneck sweaters.
If the shoe doesn't fit in the shoe store, it's never going to fit.
When your children are teenagers, it's important to have a dog so that someone in the house is happy to see you.
Back up your files.
Overinsure everything.
Whenever someone says the words, "Our friendship is more important than this," watch out, because it almost never is.
There's no point in making piecrust from scratch.
The reason you're waking up in the middle of the night is the second glass of wine.
The minute you decide to get divorced, go see a lawyer and file the papers.
Overtip.
Never let them know.
If only one-third of your clothes are mistakes, you're ahead of the game.
If friends ask you to be their child's guardian in case they die in a plane crash, you can say no.
There are no secrets.
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