Friday, February 6, 2004


ccording to the recent yawnfest -slash- impromptu-Q.&A. with Bush 43, he “slept through” the recent breast-baring Janet Jackson high jinks. Given that the whole country is talking about Miss Jackson (does she refer to herself as “Miss Jackson,” as she’s so nasty these days?) as a talking point, does it surprise anyone that Bush 43 was asleep at the—and as the—wheel (turned)?
         Certainly not Karl Rove. Or Condi and her magical legion of know-nothings, dishing it out with hunky Matt Lauer. Perhaps it’s just as well, lest we face the ignominy of realizing that our “faith-based” son of Bush 41 saw a “boobie” on television. Now we wouldn’t want that, would we? Especially when Dubya and his “evil-doer” Hang ’Em High posse try so diligently to eradicate any aspect whatsoever of openness and frankness about sexuality as his uncharismatic Christian fellows who long for the Rapture might pull funding around the upcoming Kerry-fest which will no doubt include Dubya’s intifada on partial-birth abortions.
         While Saddam wonders what the hell he did to coerce the al-Qaeda folks to take down the W.T.C. towers since he was being forcibly contained in a no-fly, no-trade, no-outgoing-calls, no-delivery, no-deposit-no-return, no-nothing zone; Dubya orders up himself a big slab o’ America-pie in the form of an “official” investigation into finding out what the President knew, and when he knew it, or if he knew what he thought he knew, when in fact, he might not have known what we thought he said he knew, ’cuz the bums downstairs at the C.I.A., which Bush 41 used to head up, might not have told him what he should have known or ought to have known before he knew that he didn’t know it. You know?
         I for one will rest easier knowing that Bush 43 has to get to bed early so he can get up early to begin taking away the rights of American citizens with his and Dick’s unpatriotic “Patriot Act”, which, while time is ebbing away at its statute of limitations, will keep us safe from all those people who want to hurt us over there in our American base in Communist Cuba. Thank God for Gitmo!
         And speaking of Castro, you would think the former owner of the Texas Rangers was at least a sports fan, wouldn’t you? Even if it’s only baseball, which has been a-berry-berry good to him, and that which he truly loves (outside of the Bible, which we assume he read before going to bed early and missing Miss Jackson’s boobie): what is he saying to his Republican tax-break voters in the U.S. of A? He doesn’t think THE SUPER BOWL IN HOUSTON is all that worth staying up for? Maybe it’s because the only people who got executed were the Panthers, and anyone in the American public who had to endure a Justin Timberlake “Surprise Appearance” with Miss Boobson?
         Whatever the case, America does not negotiate with terrorists; Bush 43 will “smoke ’em out”; and make no mistake, and do not misunderestimate him: unlike his two-term predecessor, Dubya will get to the bottom of this. Independent counsel or not.
         I, by the way, am a C-cup. Take that, Miss Jackson!


Mick Stingley is a freelance writer who lives in New York City. He is featured in Rock and Roll Cage Match, available from Three Rivers/Random House. He is 40 years old and refuses to cut his hair ’cuz he’s so fuckin’ metal.

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