2003/12/30
Watergate 2
BUSH RESIGNS! WARNER MADE PRESIDENT! RUMMY GETS REALITY SHOW!
It happened today, the first clink of the floodgate that's been holding back the next Watergate.
On the scandal scale, the Agent Outing is bigger than Watergate and more than enough to topple Saddubya.
Today John Ashcroft recused himself from prosecuting his own people in the hunt for the traitor who leaked the identity of a CIA agent to columnist Robert Novak.
And John, thank you, we're used to swifter justice from you, but nice to see you all the same. Just wondering, John: you guys found Saddam, but you couldn't find the leak in your own administration? Have you looked in all the holes? How aggressive we are when it comes to the affairs of others. Tsk.
Ah, no big deal, according the mainstream press, apparently. Except that the public revelation of an agent's identity jeopardizes the safety of not only the agent and all her associates and family, it compromises the safety of entire nations, which is why this prank falls under the heading Treason, the very thing the Bushies want all power to stop as they see fit.
It is alleged by the agent, her spouse, and most informed observers that she was purposely "outted" either by a member of the Bush administration or by the Bush administration itself, in punishment for the couple's criticism of Bush's so-called "proof" of Saddam's WMD--a receipt for suspicious parts that proved phony long before Bush offered it as the nail in the coffin in his State of the Union address.
False as it was, speculation about the mystery receipt kept it in play, like a fluffball under the always-moving cups at a carnival. Tony Blair had it for a while, then Bush, then Congress. Proof. Right under... this cup. Poof.
George lied, people died -- but this won't be the lie that brings him down. Americans are too impatient for anything complex or legalistic -- they'll ignore anything until there's dish.
What will bring down George Bush will be George Bush being George Bush on videotape. Many Americans won't like what they see.
This story has had very short legs but many of them. Now that an outside prosecutor has been named and Ashcroft is getting out of the way, expect this centipede to move fast.
Expect that many in the Bush administration will prove to have been directly involved in the development of the ways and means of shutting up vast constituancies of rival agencies, each with something to lose.
Many more within the Bush administration will be fingered by their fellows in plea bargain until it is eventually revealed that the majority of the senior administration members had direct knowledge of the double character murder.
Everyone involved will admit everything they know while announcing their book deals. Even people who were remotely involved, such as Princess Di's butler, will be writing books confessing their role in Bushes Tissue of Lies (which is not a bad title--look for it soon on a used bookshelf).
Expect a new John Dean to step forward and spill. His name will be... (count your money, folks) ...Ari Fleischer.
The administration, in partnership with the Republican Party, will enter slug mode, wherein they withdraw to the bottom of tank and curl into their shells, hiding among pebbles of their exact size and shape. Hiding, hiding, why are the bad guys always hiding? Don't they have any self respect?
What I do not predict is the emergence of one honest human being who is capable of telling the truth so we can move on as a nation and put this time behind us. Before this is over we will long as a nation for Monica Lewinsky.
The Democratic Convention will be a mess -- I'll explain more later -- horses, smoke bombs, Hubert Humphrey will actual appear out of the fog, but he'll be shoved into a paddywagon so fast the miracle will all but go unnoticed.
The Congressional Hearing will eventually become the most watched event since the Nuremberg trials or the Mars invasion or the Watergate hearings. But it will take Americans time to locate C-Span.
Listen carefully and place your money here. All King George's trials will hardly earn mention at the Democrat's rally, so caught up will they be in the time-honored tradition of "political infighting," which is a dignified way of saying "acting like babies." The democrats will miss so many opportunities pick on George that some will wonder if the blue team was bought off.
Once the convention is over, the Mystery Candidate will hit the road to yammer and point, but his pumped-out sound bites will have the impact of "Welcome to Wal-Mart" and 80% of the nation will not know the Mystery Candidate's name by November.
Even after the Democratic convention, the treason story will remain quiet in the mainstream press -- leading to much curiosity by bloggers, some of whom will point out that Bush owns the press. Rupert Murdock has no interest in losing his Republican friends. Same for Time-Warner. Even little General Electric over at NBC has little to gain in losing Bush. They'll be silent until the bloggers make it news.
Sadly, my final prediction for the day is something I see quite clearly, and I'm afraid it's irreversible. George Bush -- even as the shocking truth about the level of his personal involvement in the destruction of two American patriots who are married to each other, one a U.S. ambassador, the other a newly naked agent of the CIA -- that George Bush, smuggest heirhead ever, will be ordered by Congress to hand over his videotapes of the entire Oval Office, West Wing and State Department archives for the period in question.
He'll refuse (a gimme) but Rupert Murdock gets the materials, creates a smash hit series worldwide! George Bush, drunk and disorderly, throws a stapler at Colin Powell! Condi Rice playing piano joined by George and Chopsticks! Dubya drop-kicking the dog!
This is after the election.... yes.
Despite the fact that everybody pretty much knows what George has done, he will sweep the nation in a Texas sized mudslide and win a second term.
The decisiveness of the vote will astonish and alarm the whole world, momentarily. But by February 2004, a mere month after his second inauguration, the "smoking gun" will be found and it will bear the prints of the whole enchilada, the entire armada of Bushies, from little Scooter to Dickie the AA sponsor to Johnny Ashcroft who's a better songwriter than prosecutor really -- you know he lost an election for governor to a dead guy?
Cheney will leave office first, whisked out of the way for literally hundreds of millions of reasons, replaced as Vice President by the unlikely but likeable compromise candidate, Republican Sen. John Warner.
Bush resigns in disgrace, waving drunk from the helicopter, this close to giving us all the bird.
Back on the ground, President Warner announces he will retain Colin Powell and Condi Rice as well as the severely depressed Donald Rumsfeld, whose squint will have become so intense that his eyes will be permanently semi-sealed, rendering such ordinary items as flush handles on urinals reminiscent of microphones. Donald will be discovered on a nature walk through State, his inhibitions and his clothes missing in action.
Donny won't resign, he won't be fired, he'll be embraced by the American public, held up as an example of courage in the face of sudden personality reversal. His sense of humor will return, as will his suavity. His hair will go black overnight. His face, instead of looking like a moldy loaf of bread will again resemble cowhide chaps. He'll say the darnest things. Best of all, he'll no longer be Secretary of Defense. He'll take over Karl Rove's spongy position as President's Best Friend.
Donald Rumsfeld will eventually enter the private sector, executive producing reality television beginning with what becomes his signature classic: Rummy Go LaLoony.
That's it. That's what's going to happen. So far.
If I'm wrong, flog me. If you're wrong, flog you.
It happened today, the first clink of the floodgate that's been holding back the next Watergate.
On the scandal scale, the Agent Outing is bigger than Watergate and more than enough to topple Saddubya.
Today John Ashcroft recused himself from prosecuting his own people in the hunt for the traitor who leaked the identity of a CIA agent to columnist Robert Novak.
And John, thank you, we're used to swifter justice from you, but nice to see you all the same. Just wondering, John: you guys found Saddam, but you couldn't find the leak in your own administration? Have you looked in all the holes? How aggressive we are when it comes to the affairs of others. Tsk.
Ah, no big deal, according the mainstream press, apparently. Except that the public revelation of an agent's identity jeopardizes the safety of not only the agent and all her associates and family, it compromises the safety of entire nations, which is why this prank falls under the heading Treason, the very thing the Bushies want all power to stop as they see fit.
It is alleged by the agent, her spouse, and most informed observers that she was purposely "outted" either by a member of the Bush administration or by the Bush administration itself, in punishment for the couple's criticism of Bush's so-called "proof" of Saddam's WMD--a receipt for suspicious parts that proved phony long before Bush offered it as the nail in the coffin in his State of the Union address.
False as it was, speculation about the mystery receipt kept it in play, like a fluffball under the always-moving cups at a carnival. Tony Blair had it for a while, then Bush, then Congress. Proof. Right under... this cup. Poof.
George lied, people died -- but this won't be the lie that brings him down. Americans are too impatient for anything complex or legalistic -- they'll ignore anything until there's dish.
What will bring down George Bush will be George Bush being George Bush on videotape. Many Americans won't like what they see.
This story has had very short legs but many of them. Now that an outside prosecutor has been named and Ashcroft is getting out of the way, expect this centipede to move fast.
Expect that many in the Bush administration will prove to have been directly involved in the development of the ways and means of shutting up vast constituancies of rival agencies, each with something to lose.
Many more within the Bush administration will be fingered by their fellows in plea bargain until it is eventually revealed that the majority of the senior administration members had direct knowledge of the double character murder.
Everyone involved will admit everything they know while announcing their book deals. Even people who were remotely involved, such as Princess Di's butler, will be writing books confessing their role in Bushes Tissue of Lies (which is not a bad title--look for it soon on a used bookshelf).
Expect a new John Dean to step forward and spill. His name will be... (count your money, folks) ...Ari Fleischer.
The administration, in partnership with the Republican Party, will enter slug mode, wherein they withdraw to the bottom of tank and curl into their shells, hiding among pebbles of their exact size and shape. Hiding, hiding, why are the bad guys always hiding? Don't they have any self respect?
What I do not predict is the emergence of one honest human being who is capable of telling the truth so we can move on as a nation and put this time behind us. Before this is over we will long as a nation for Monica Lewinsky.
The Democratic Convention will be a mess -- I'll explain more later -- horses, smoke bombs, Hubert Humphrey will actual appear out of the fog, but he'll be shoved into a paddywagon so fast the miracle will all but go unnoticed.
The Congressional Hearing will eventually become the most watched event since the Nuremberg trials or the Mars invasion or the Watergate hearings. But it will take Americans time to locate C-Span.
Listen carefully and place your money here. All King George's trials will hardly earn mention at the Democrat's rally, so caught up will they be in the time-honored tradition of "political infighting," which is a dignified way of saying "acting like babies." The democrats will miss so many opportunities pick on George that some will wonder if the blue team was bought off.
Once the convention is over, the Mystery Candidate will hit the road to yammer and point, but his pumped-out sound bites will have the impact of "Welcome to Wal-Mart" and 80% of the nation will not know the Mystery Candidate's name by November.
Even after the Democratic convention, the treason story will remain quiet in the mainstream press -- leading to much curiosity by bloggers, some of whom will point out that Bush owns the press. Rupert Murdock has no interest in losing his Republican friends. Same for Time-Warner. Even little General Electric over at NBC has little to gain in losing Bush. They'll be silent until the bloggers make it news.
Sadly, my final prediction for the day is something I see quite clearly, and I'm afraid it's irreversible. George Bush -- even as the shocking truth about the level of his personal involvement in the destruction of two American patriots who are married to each other, one a U.S. ambassador, the other a newly naked agent of the CIA -- that George Bush, smuggest heirhead ever, will be ordered by Congress to hand over his videotapes of the entire Oval Office, West Wing and State Department archives for the period in question.
He'll refuse (a gimme) but Rupert Murdock gets the materials, creates a smash hit series worldwide! George Bush, drunk and disorderly, throws a stapler at Colin Powell! Condi Rice playing piano joined by George and Chopsticks! Dubya drop-kicking the dog!
This is after the election.... yes.
Despite the fact that everybody pretty much knows what George has done, he will sweep the nation in a Texas sized mudslide and win a second term.
The decisiveness of the vote will astonish and alarm the whole world, momentarily. But by February 2004, a mere month after his second inauguration, the "smoking gun" will be found and it will bear the prints of the whole enchilada, the entire armada of Bushies, from little Scooter to Dickie the AA sponsor to Johnny Ashcroft who's a better songwriter than prosecutor really -- you know he lost an election for governor to a dead guy?
Cheney will leave office first, whisked out of the way for literally hundreds of millions of reasons, replaced as Vice President by the unlikely but likeable compromise candidate, Republican Sen. John Warner.
Bush resigns in disgrace, waving drunk from the helicopter, this close to giving us all the bird.
Back on the ground, President Warner announces he will retain Colin Powell and Condi Rice as well as the severely depressed Donald Rumsfeld, whose squint will have become so intense that his eyes will be permanently semi-sealed, rendering such ordinary items as flush handles on urinals reminiscent of microphones. Donald will be discovered on a nature walk through State, his inhibitions and his clothes missing in action.
Donny won't resign, he won't be fired, he'll be embraced by the American public, held up as an example of courage in the face of sudden personality reversal. His sense of humor will return, as will his suavity. His hair will go black overnight. His face, instead of looking like a moldy loaf of bread will again resemble cowhide chaps. He'll say the darnest things. Best of all, he'll no longer be Secretary of Defense. He'll take over Karl Rove's spongy position as President's Best Friend.
Donald Rumsfeld will eventually enter the private sector, executive producing reality television beginning with what becomes his signature classic: Rummy Go LaLoony.
That's it. That's what's going to happen. So far.
If I'm wrong, flog me. If you're wrong, flog you.
Howard Dean to spontaneously explode
You heard it here first. The political career of presidential candidate Howard Dean -- beloved by a few thousand webbies and millions of sheep who still haven't heard him say anything out loud -- will end abruptly during a debate with... what appears to be ...seven... dwarfs? Could that be right? Oh, these visions! You know how weird they can be. CW thinks Dr. Dean will be debating fellow democrats when he sadly blows. He will get all over everybody.
This being a prediction, I'm under no obligation to explain my vision -- which is metaphorical, thank God -- except to say it's a strong vision, and I'd put money on it if I had any. Stuck as I am in the middle of this miraculous economic recovery we're all experiencing has me busy making room for all the cash I will no doubt soon have.
I have nothing against Dr. Dean. Dukakis. I just don't know him very well. Dukakis. I'm against spontaneous blow-ups. I don't even know if the doctor has a temper, Dukakis.
The fact that Dr. Dean is a medical doctor is an intriguing first. Lawyers usually want the job. Lawyers get a natural surge from brushing up against other minds, but doctors get their power elsewhere, generally from the appreciation of satified customers, an appreciation that, in many communities, crosses into sycophantic worship (which is the active ingredient in the drug called Presidenxi , available soon as generic Summa) at a time when drug abuse among doctors is already pandemic. Imagine doctors pouring themselves into the political septic system as the result of watching Dean succeed. Think of the surge in the number of sponges left in body cavities, along with a rise in lost keys, sunglasses, morals. I predict the loss of more than one SUV, in a parking lot, not a cavity, by doctors high on Summa, dragging dozens of spongy ass-kissers.
Look. Doctors are cool. But the problem is they know it. Some of them think they're right up there with you know Who.
Dukakis. The only thing I don't like about Dr. Dean, aside from what to call him if he wins (Dr. President?), is his wardrobe. Seven white shirts, a red-striped tie. It would be nice to see him in a jacket once. Then we wonder. Hmmm. Can he can fill out a tux? Or would the jacket just make him look even shorter?
Now we're getting closer to the real problem.
Howard Dean is short. This is why he will not be elected president.
His dramatic ending will occur before the Democratic convention and after the media play enough Dr. Dean bites for the American public to realize he's just too damn short. Then he'll say something really dumb, I mean dumb dumb, dumber than Ford saying there's no communism in Eastern Europe, and poof!
Question is, then what? Then who?
Fortunately it won't be Alec Baldwin, although while I'm at it I sense him seething to run for something, he and literally every actor working and not working today, thanks to Arnold. And Ronald.
Lawyers, doctors, actors. What about anchors? Where's Cronkite and Koppel?
Look. I don't know who the Democrats are going to nominate. It hasn't come to me yet. Can you live with that? Because that's how it is. But it won't be Dean and it won't be any of the current candidates. That much I'll say I know.
And if I'm right? Please send money.
This being a prediction, I'm under no obligation to explain my vision -- which is metaphorical, thank God -- except to say it's a strong vision, and I'd put money on it if I had any. Stuck as I am in the middle of this miraculous economic recovery we're all experiencing has me busy making room for all the cash I will no doubt soon have.
I have nothing against Dr. Dean. Dukakis. I just don't know him very well. Dukakis. I'm against spontaneous blow-ups. I don't even know if the doctor has a temper, Dukakis.
The fact that Dr. Dean is a medical doctor is an intriguing first. Lawyers usually want the job. Lawyers get a natural surge from brushing up against other minds, but doctors get their power elsewhere, generally from the appreciation of satified customers, an appreciation that, in many communities, crosses into sycophantic worship (which is the active ingredient in the drug called Presidenxi , available soon as generic Summa) at a time when drug abuse among doctors is already pandemic. Imagine doctors pouring themselves into the political septic system as the result of watching Dean succeed. Think of the surge in the number of sponges left in body cavities, along with a rise in lost keys, sunglasses, morals. I predict the loss of more than one SUV, in a parking lot, not a cavity, by doctors high on Summa, dragging dozens of spongy ass-kissers.
Look. Doctors are cool. But the problem is they know it. Some of them think they're right up there with you know Who.
Dukakis. The only thing I don't like about Dr. Dean, aside from what to call him if he wins (Dr. President?), is his wardrobe. Seven white shirts, a red-striped tie. It would be nice to see him in a jacket once. Then we wonder. Hmmm. Can he can fill out a tux? Or would the jacket just make him look even shorter?
Now we're getting closer to the real problem.
Howard Dean is short. This is why he will not be elected president.
His dramatic ending will occur before the Democratic convention and after the media play enough Dr. Dean bites for the American public to realize he's just too damn short. Then he'll say something really dumb, I mean dumb dumb, dumber than Ford saying there's no communism in Eastern Europe, and poof!
Question is, then what? Then who?
Fortunately it won't be Alec Baldwin, although while I'm at it I sense him seething to run for something, he and literally every actor working and not working today, thanks to Arnold. And Ronald.
Lawyers, doctors, actors. What about anchors? Where's Cronkite and Koppel?
Look. I don't know who the Democrats are going to nominate. It hasn't come to me yet. Can you live with that? Because that's how it is. But it won't be Dean and it won't be any of the current candidates. That much I'll say I know.
And if I'm right? Please send money.
