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Those Elusive Weapons of Mass Destruction We
here at the Emerging Majority want to do our part help find the elusive weapons
of mass destruction which the President is having so much trouble locating. In
the interest of restoring the credibility of the United States, we have a few
ideas. My
first suggestion would be to ask the Iraqis where they last saw them. That
always works when I'm looking for my keys. You know: "I got my cup of
coffee, I picked up my keys, I let the dog out, I picked up the newspaper, I saw
that story about the judiciary committee approving Pryor, I started screaming
and swearing about Orrin Hatch…Oh here they are, where I dropped them when I
kicked the dog." Who
exactly is looking? Is it someone who's really good at finding things, like,
say, the FBI? After all, they found Jimmy Hoffa, I mean, Whitey Bolger, no
wait…weren't they the ones who found Eric Rudolph? No? The Lindbergh baby?
Well, they did find Hannibal Lecter, which is perfect, because he was fictional,
too. I
think the Army should get some of the scientists who must have been working on
the weapons (they're probably down in the unemployment line, or maybe working at
the Baghdad Dunkin Donuts) and just get them to retrace their steps. Maybe one
of them has an old pay stub from the Weapons of Mass Destruction Department that
might have an address. For that matter, before we invaded looking for the
weapons of mass destruction, we used to sell Saddam a lot of weapons of regular
destruction. Maybe we have an old packing slip with a "SHIP TO" address on it. I'd look for something
like, "Secret Hideout, Saddam Hussein Plaza, Tikrit." Remember
when the Republicans were using the Homeland Security people and the FAA to look
for Democrats on the run from the Texas Legislature? I think the whole thing was
a smokescreen and Tom Delay was actually looking for the WMDs in Ardmore,
Okalahoma. The governor of Oklahoma is a Democrat, after all. Since, as Orrin
Hatch has pointed out, Democrats hate Catholics, it's only a small step from
Democratic Governor of Oklahoma to Islamic terrorist. When the Republicans spool
up that recall effort against him, since he too was inaugurated last January,
don't be surprised if "possibly hoarding bioweapons for Saddam
Hussein" is on the recall petition, right after "possibly
French." If
they were really crafty, the Iraqis would pick a place that they know no one is
allowed to go poking around in, like Dick Cheney's office. Vice President Cheney
gets really agitated if anyone official-looking comes by looking for, say,
records of which future felons he met with to craft the administration energy
policy. He's kind of a scary guy, but maybe when he's heading in to work in the
morning someone could quick sneak a peek through the open door, just to catch a
glimpse of any big metal drums or anything with a skull and crossbones on it.
Just don't send anyone from the General Accounting Office, because I hear
there's a 'shoot-to-kill' policy about those guys around the VP's office. I'm
sure the WMDs will turn up eventually. I believe the administration when they
say the invasion wasn't about oil. Sure, it doesn't hurt that the US has, let's
just say, a strategic interest in the region. I hear the administration is ready
to begin aggressively searching in other countries that are, you know,
interesting strategically. It would be nice if we could get the price of
strategy down to about a buck a gallon again. Maybe we could just sweep through
all the other strategically interesting countries, just to make sure they don't
have any WMDs, either. You know, Saudi Arabia, Venezuela, Alaska. Hey, maybe the
WMD's are in the Alaskan National Wildlife Refuge. I'm sure there's a bunch of
Haliburton guys up there setting up drilling equipment. Maybe we could ask them
to look around.
Why I'm Not Going to Run for President Of course, people have been asking me if I'm going to run. The press never stops with that endless speculation, and I have to admit I've been a little cagey. You know the stuff I've been saying on Nightline and Meet the Press, 'I'm not not running.' 'I'm keeping my options open,' that sort of thing. My favorite stall is, of course, 'I'm having discussions with my family.' As if I'd trust a decision like that to those lunkheads. Well, I've made a list of the big problems I see for my candidacy, which I feel is my responsibility to present to you, my potential constituents, in the interests of fair play. I have a Hispanic surname. My natural tendency would be to pursue the democratic nomination, but as Boyden Gray has pointed out, Democrats have a traditional prejudice against Hispanics. How many times have we all watched with admiration as the Republicans championed civil rights and affirmative action, with their strident demands for full political participation by all? Who can forget the simple bravery of Richard Nixon as he championed the cause of Cesar Chavez and the Farm Workers, taking on the democratic political establishment, or that shining moment in the Senate when Strom Thurmond and Jesse Helms stood arm in arm with Geraldo Rivera and demanded that the Clinton administration appoint more Hispanics to cabinet level positions? It still gives me chills. As Democrats, we have a long way to go till we get that place where, to paraphrase Trent Lott, a man can be judged not by the color of his skin, but by the content of his character. I pronounce nuclear the way it's spelled. I recognize that it makes people uncomfortable to entertain the possibility of a president who uses a lot of highfalutin pronunciations and subject/object agreement, but I am the victim of the eastern liberal establishment and their stranglehold on grammar. I will endeavor to improve, to show that perhaps I have been misunderestimated in this area, and that it is my uninalienable right to believe that what I believe is right, because I believe what I believe, even for children in the dark dungeons of the internet, and families, where our wings take dream and where the human and the fish can coexist peacefully. I just haven't done the hard work of preparing to be the leader of the free world. For instance, I've never been a millionaire businessman. Nothing, it's clear now, qualifies one for high office like having your father's wealthy cronies set you up as the titular head of some kind of get-rich quick boondoggle the details of which you can't explain with a straight face. As a young man, I foolishly got bogged down in those joe jobs where I got coffee for everyone and made copies for $5.50 an hour. If only I had had the kind of steely determination and initiative that would have launched me into the big time world of getting everyone coffee and making copies for $600,000 dollars a year. If I had had the combination of acumen and managerial brilliance to, say, shepherd a baseball franchise from third place in the western division to fourth place in the western division. Then I might rightfully deserve the chance to helm the mighty ship of state. I've never worked for an oil company. Clearly, given the constitution of the current administration, it's unlikely that anyone could work in the white house unless they're somehow affiliated with Haliburton. Lately, I've tried to make myself appear more in sync with the needs of the oil cartel. I oppose taxes, use fees for federal lands, and even the most rudimentary clean air protections, advocating instead the airing of public service announcements that encourage the belief that coughing is a sign of vigor. I advocate drilling not just in Alaskan Wildlife Refuges, but in National Parks, zoos, the Everglades, day care centers and playgrounds. My dad wasn't president. Many's the time of course, that I tried to interest him in running for president, and I frequently would form exploratory committees on his behalf in my tree fort, conducting push polls of the neighborhood children and holding fundraisers, which were frequently misinterpreted as lunch money shakedowns by the local constabulary. I often tried without success to explain the American system of presidential succession to my parents, but they were simple old world people who naively believed that hard work and talent could lead to success. I never served in the National Guard. Sure, now it's recognized as the royal road to political achievement, but when I was young it looked like a place where draft dodgers and the semi-retarded children of politicos hid from dangerous military service. Sadly, the Vietnam war was over before I had a chance to defend West Mifflin, PA from the Viet Cong, but I do feel my "Support Our Troops" bumper sticker more than makes up for my lack of military experience. And even though I've never heard a shot fired in anger I stand ready to send our mighty armies around the world to crush our enemies and take their oil. I mean, disarm their weapons of mass destruction. Finally, I'm just not smart enough. The American people would never stand for a president who doesn't have an encyclopedic knowledge of American history, government and current events. Imagine if some smart-alecky newsman were to ask me, for instance, who the heads of various countries around the world were, and I didn't know the answers, or suppose I was unable to, say, identify Medicare as a federal program. It would be so shameful I couldn't continue my campaign. The crack Washington press corps would hound me out of politics. My name would become synonymous with the sort of dimwitted provincialism the American people could never countenance in a head of state. Disgraced and humiliated, I would fade from the public scene and wither in mortified anonymity. When I infrequently emerged from my pitiful cave-like dwelling, the neighborhood children would pelt me with eggs, and I would shrivel and fade in penury and shame.
Top Ten Things You Can Do With Your Tax Return I
know you're asking yourself, 'If the president was nice enough to give me this
whopping tax return, how can I help speed the mighty engine of our economy?'
Here are our suggestions for how to put that money to work. Check out our ideas,
before you end up squandering it on food and shelter. Buy
more lottery tickets, the 'scratch off 401K.' Or patronize your local casino or
race track. Bookies have to eat, too, you know. As my good friend Bill Bennett
likes to say: 'Hey, if I have to gamble with my retirement money, I at least
want to be comped to the buffet.' Supersize
your freedom fries. What could be more American? These patriotic names for
frivolous or unpleasant things are great - I was thinking they should start
calling it Homeland Security Unemployment. And how could anyone be against The
USA Patriot Deficit? Get
some crayons and stickers to replace the arts program at your kid's school. You
better do something, cause thanks to the religious right she's not going to
learn any science. Creationists think Evolution is just a theory, and having
seen some of them, I think they may be right. Somewhere along the line we
decided we'd rather have snakehandlers decide questions of science curriculum
rather than actual scientists. Do you think Bush signed the No Child Left Behind
Act because he thought it had something to do with that nutty apocalyptic book
series they sell at Walmart? Jesus loves me, this I know, but I'm still having
trouble with fractions. Get
the really good duct tape to fortify your home against bioweapons. Extra sticky.
Super anthrax repellent. Of course, I don't know what you're supposed to do when
your neighbor gets dosed with some stolen Russian supervirus and mutates into a
half man/half scorpion and comes over to your house in search of protein. Your
own your own there. Buy
your boss a classy box of truffles for letting you keep your job, even though he
keeps pointing out that he's got PhDs applying for jobs in the stockroom and you
spend a lot of time crying in the supply closet. Contribute
to a political campaign. It's the best possible investment you can make. It pays
like ten to one. Credit companies gave millions to the Bush campaign so they
could make sure you can't hide from them even if you declare bankruptcy.
I think the way it works now, even if you die you have to keep paying
that interest charge from beyond the grave. Now they can dig you up and go
through your pockets. I think Citibank is allowed by law now to turn your
lifeless body into a zombie and put you to work in a 7-11 till that Visa card is
paid off. Luxuriate
in the plus-sized help wanted ads while you look for that second job. Who needs
eight hours of sleep, anyway? Pamper
yourself with an upscale day spa experience at home. You can do a mud facial
using, you know, mud. And I'll bet a chickweed wrap is every bit as good as a
seaweed wrap. Just put on your John Tesh CDs and float away on a tranquil wave
of frantic denial. Splurge
on the gigantic bottle of aspirin to replace the health insurance benefits you
lost when your company sent its manufacturing to Swaziland. My question is, do
they have corporate scouts out looking for the most miserable, god-forsaken
places on earth, so they build a sneaker factory there and only pay people in
betel nuts? Villages in Africa are trying to underbid each other now.
"Okay, three betel nuts a day, plus you can ride the mayor of our town like
a donkey. And no unions. If anyone even rents 'Matewan' from Blockbuster we'll
have the secret police burn down their house.'
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