Just Do It


It looks like Team Superwimp, aka the Cheney-Shrub administration, will once again display to the world the maturity of a four year old child playing war games with a cap gun. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if Shrub did the thumb/index finger gun and shouted out "bang bang, you're dead!" while watching the closed circuit teevee footage...(c'mon: just because they say there won't be teevee footage doesn't mean it's so).

Well, you know what? GOOD, I say. First, I don't give a shit about the butcher of Baghdad. I knew he was a crook and a creep back in the 1980's, when Team Reagan lifted him up by his jackboots--and gave him a free ride following the USS Stark Incident--indeed, just to demonstrate how hypocritical THEY were, Reagan did his best to fan the flames of hatred towards IRAN at the time. I knew Hussein was a crook and a creep before he invaded Kuwait...although, to be fair, I likewise don't really care all that much about the kingdom. It's probably a bit of poetic justice--for both--that they share a border (oh, and an aside: Kuwait might be "supporting" the war in Iraq, but if you ask me, the "support" is awfully tepid, considering. Maybe that ought to tell US just how unpopular Shrub's ugly war of choice was...and is).

Anyway--let Saddam's corpse rot, along with those of his psychotic sons. Hell, maybe we can yank Bremer out of whatever spider hole HE'S settled into to make the announcement: "Ladies and gentlemen, we got him! Again!" Who-hoo. Only cost us...3000 soldiers dead, 25000 wounded, hundreds of thousands of Iraqi civilians, $350 billion dollars, our international reputation...but Shrub gets his "bang bang, you're dead!" moment in the sun...for the last time.

Because once Saddam IS gone, it's finally over, and the boy chimperor's pathetic, juvenile (indeed, infantile) nature will have no more place to hide. Instead, it will be on display for all to see: the Iraq hellhole, the mother of all clusterfucks, the sheer horror of the ungoing, unending tragedy will be staring us right in the eye after the last little thread--Saddam himself--exits, unloved and unlamented, stage right. It will then hopefully become painfully, embarrassingly evident that the nightmare was wrought for no reason besides the desperate need to be vainglorious on the part of a cringing, little man...and, let's be fair, his equally cringing, soulless, forever frightened, socially inept base of political support. Fantasies of blowing things up--or hanging Saddam--sustain their othewise empty and meaningless existence between trips to the mall and/or church.

So, let them engage in some pathetic, wheezing, beer-belled, sunken-chest thumping one last time...the political equivalent of a used Mazda Miata for their bald-pate-male-menopause-premature-ejaculation last hurrah. Because, for them, it's over after that. Yes, we're going to have to clean up their mess, but for the next two years they've got nuthin'...and maybe more people will finally see them for what they are: scared...little...rabbits, who for too long have been deferred to.