Cheeto Presidency


I'm a little busy this morning, so this is what I posted at First Draft:

I know that pretzels are more Shrub's speed, but hear me out as I make the case for the Cheeto as the apt metaphor for this administration.

You start with that most native of cereals, corn...and then you process it, puff it full of air and god knows what else, extrude it through what must be some sort of Frankenstein monster of a machine, and top it off with a West Texas sized dusting of powdered cheese food product.

Calories don't get any emptier than that.

As this administration stumbles to an end that's so James Buchananesque in the mess that it leaves for its successor, it's opted for the very Rovian (and I hear Rove is playing his part) tactic of spin, spin, spin (or spin, baby, spin, if you prefer.) A series of exit-interviews are underway, a final attempt from Team Bush to convince the public that eight years of pure bullshit is actually tasty Shinola--mmmm--a floor wax AND a dessert topping. No, really!

Except...there's just no way of hiding the innate shallowness of the little man. As I've said before, a perfect storm of New England blue blood arrogance and ugly Redneck aggressive ignorance. The kind of person, who, charged with making critical decisions during an severe economic crisis, focuses like a laser on...Ben Bernanke's tan socks.

Years ago, Shrub was tagged the Texas Souffle, another case of empty calories and mostly puffed air--but to me that implies, if not actual sweetness, a lightness that's incompatible with a legacy of torture, the stovepiping of intelligence to suit bloody, ugly aims, the subversion of the constitution, and a casual cruelty mixed with sheer incompetence when it came to actually governing. No, souffle is both too forgiving...and perhaps even too substantial.

I nominate the Cheeto. Salty, empty, dusty. The very essence of junk food, for the very essence of a junk presidency.