Monday, January 5, 2009

They Never Sleep

Just when I tell myself to look on the bright side, I read something like this:

WASHINGTON -- Former President George H.W. Bush said on Sunday he’d like to see his second son, Jeb, become President of the United States some day.

Interviewed on Fox News Sunday, Bush said his second son, a former Governor of Florida, had all the qualifications to serve in the White House.

Jeb Bush, 55, has said he was considering running for a U.S. Senate seat representing Florida in 2010. The current incumbent, Republican Mel Martinez, has announced he is stepping down.

“I’d like to see him run. I’d like to see him be president one day, or senator, whatever, yes I would,” said Bush, who served as president from 1989-1993.…

Sigh. We’ll never escape them. I suppose it won’t be long before terms like ‘Senator Jenna’ or ‘Governor Barbara’ make their debut on the compost heap of American political discourse. I can see the spittle flying out of Chris Matthew’s mouth even now: “Jenna’s party-girl reputation gives her the common touch.”

Oh, God. Gimme my passport.

What makes this all so terrifying is that it’s so plausible. If the Republicans can’t field a better batch of candidates in 2012 than the bumbling clowns on offer last year, why not Jeb? If he hits the Senate in 2010, he’ll have two years to massage the media and convince everyone that he’s not a hothead like W. We, the American people, will be coaxed into accepting another Bush as president as if it’s part of the natural, organic scheme of things, and the aristocratic principle will be permanently nailed into our national life.

My fears might be premature, but make no mistake about it: President Jeb is a working concept in its research and development phase. The only thing that could prevent this travesty from coming to fruition is a successful Obama presidency. But here W. may have done his family duty more effectively than we give him credit for: George W. has screwed everything up so completely beyond recognition that his successor can’t possibly succeed. It’s likely that the full extent of the damage won’t become apparent until the third of fourth year of Obama’s term, by which time Jeb, rested and ready, will be able to claim that the disasters just then coming into full bloom are Obama’s fault. You can bet they’ll get a noisy assist from Messrs. Limbaugh, Hannity, et al.

“Nicaragua is my farm,” said Anastasio Somoza, long time dictator of that country. The Bushes can say the same thing about the United States. America is their farm. Reasons of state require than an occasional plebian like Bill Clinton or Barack Obama be promoted to (temporary) overseer in order to keep the serfs quiet, which gives the true masters of the plantation time to regroup and conjure up better, more subtle strategies for funneling all of its remaining wealth into their bank accounts.

Ask yourself, what has any Bush ever produced? Where does their money and power come from? Where? Did a Bush invent the assembly line, or plastic, or aluminium foil, or, hell, even a better pair of golf shoes? Has a Bush ever solved an equation, written a poem, a novel, an essay, or filmed a movie, anything? What the fuck have the Bushes ever done to deserve their status and power? What? Even Howard Hughes, in between bouts of insanity, managed to design a freakin’ airplane (albeit one that didn’t fly, but that’s still more than any Bush ever did). The Bush’s contribution to humanity has been a big fat zero, unless you count corpses or debts, in which case the numbers rise into the billions. These parasites haven’t even bothered to learn how to speak our fucking language properly.

Yet their names keep popping up during election season, and all right-thinking Americans are enjoined to consider their wisdom and ‘experience’ as if they’re legitimate candidates or wise statesmen, instead of the head lice they truly are.

I’m still going to drink that bottle of champagne marked “20 January, 2009,” and so should you. Just remember that while normal people like us are are drifting off to happy sleep, our aristocracy is wide awake and waiting.

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