MDC re:"Bush is a real leader looking out for America's interests and not just his own!"
Michael, this is what much of America thinks of your real leader!!!!
nytimes.com
How Green Is Their Valley
By MAUREEN DOWD
ASHINGTON — Dick and
Rummy are in the lemon-
and-raspberry-striped wing chairs
in the Oval Office.
They like to kick back at the end of
the day, down a Johnny Walker
Red and kick around how they will
organize the country and the world to their liking.
Junior is out on the South Lawn, practicing placing the ball on
the batting tee for the opening day of White House T-ball on
Sunday.
The president is very, very excited because the San Diego
Chicken is coming.
He is also puffed up because he has learned a new word:
"counter-pro- lif-er-A-tion."
At one point, W. runs up to the French doors to pester the two
older men: "Is it up yet? Can I see it?"
"No, son," Dick says in that slow, deliberate voice. "We're still
working on it."
W. grins and races back to the diamond.
"He thinks the missile shield really exists?" Rummy smirks,
sipping his Scotch. "So did Reagan. Probably better that way.
Keeps the Commies guessing when the president sounds so
sincere."
"Yup."
"We can stick it to the Russians, the Chinese and the North
Koreans — to say nothing of Daschle, Biden and Kerry. And
think of all our buddies at Boeing! Think of the billions that will
go to Lockheed, TRW, General Dynamics! Can you believe
those pointy heads on the ethics board want us to divest our
portfolios?
"Missile defense may be pie in the sky, but our defense budget
pie is, as the Kid likes to say, growing taller. Here's to the
private sector — we'll be back there some day. O'Neill wants
us to make sure a lot of aluminum goes into the Emperor's New
Shield."
"Yup."
"It's just a matter of months before we have the arms race
seething again, no matter what that flower child at the State
Department thinks. Nothing like a race with only one runner. No
fun being a sole superpower if you can't blow up the other guys'
arsenals with imaginary airborne lasers.
"Dick, did you listen to that speech Junior gave at Fort McNair
today? We've got to teach him how to pronounce `nuclear.' Tell
him it rhymes with `avuncular.' On second thought, maybe not.
And keep the details on the shield out of his speeches. It will
only confuse him and enrage Chirac, Blair and Koizumi. The
boy is still lost in space on who's a `strategic competitor,' who's
a `strategic partner' and who's a `strategic adversary.' "
"Yup."
"How's Project Blackened Skies going?" Rummy asks. "Baby,
the acid rain must fall. The canary in the coal mine must croak.
It's payback time for West Virginia and our brothers in oil, gas,
nuclear power, mining and chemicals. By the time we're through
ramming coal down the public's throats, that grimy Welsh town
in `How Green Was My Valley' will look like Aspen. We'll
probably have to add gas masks to the prescription drug benefit.
Soot, smog, tobacco smoke, arsenic, carbon dioxide, toxic
garbage from nuclear power plants, vertical drilling, horizontal
drilling and loop-de-loop drilling. It's a good start, Dick, a very
good start. Is that muzzle tight on Christie?"
"Yup."
"I can't believe all that whining about arsenic hasn't died down.
Those babies who think we're uncaring and we base too many
of our policies on cost-benefit analysis. Let's just hope the
public doesn't realize the true beauty of this formula. They bear
the cost; we and our cronies get the benefit."
"Yup."
John Ashcroft pops his head in. "Is this a prayer meeting? Over
at Justice, we have ours in the morning. You guys aren't
drinking, are you?"
Dick's mouth curls down on one side and the attorney general
scurries away. He almost bumps into W., who is scampering
back, out of breath.
"Hey, Uncle Dick, is it launched yet? Does it really look like a
bunch of little colored paper umbrellas in the sky?"
"Bedtime, bigtime, son."
"I talked to Ostrich Legs Putin on the hot line today," W.
proudly tells Rummy as he leaves. "I told him we shouldn't
counter-pro-lif-er-ATE each other!"
There is silence for many minutes. Finally, Rummy barks:
"Dick, speak up! What are you thinking about?"
"Steak." |
