Lame freaking excuses (Boston Globe):
''We're on a constant hunt for bin Laden. We're keeping the pressure on him, keeping him in hiding,' Bush said at a ceremonial swearing-in for Homeland Security Secretary Michael Chertoff.
Jesus H. Caramba! Where does he get the balls? These are the strides we're making in the war on terror? That bin Laden can no longer vacation openly on the Riviera or take a day off to take his kids to the Riyadh County Fair to ride the ferris wheel and judge the racing camels? It's like the Washington Generals saying they made the Globetrotters really work for every crushing victory.
Look, goddamnit, I'm a New Yorker. A handful of fanatics armed like penny-ante juvenile delinquents from the Bronx killed a ton of the people I rub elbows with every day and fucked up the local economy something fierce. Bazillions of my tax dollars--and I'm in a bracket that pays one of the highest rates--have gone down the black hole of the Pentagon budget since then.
If only we had a really bloodthirsty but ultimately scrupulous PR exec calling the shots here, the kind that knows that while constantly covering the client's ass as he constantly fucks up might generate more fees for him in the long run, the bang the client really needs for his buck is a whizbang PR extravaganza that'll make his brand for the next century: Put your entire resources into wiping out this bin Laden geezer within an eyeblink after that mess he put us through, look cool doing it, and turn every single opium farmer in Afghanistan into a Jeep-owning llama farmer, real estate broker and futures trader tooling down the gleaming autobahns, the circulatory system of the Afghan economic miracle.
Instead, we got a bigger narco-state in that place than ever and I not only still have to walk by this freaking hole in the ground every day, but I have to watch my tax dollars funding the costly production of lame, ad hoc excuses. Spreading freedom throughout the world. Yeah, right: Freedom to operate for terrorists who kill citizens of a city that doesn't vote Republican. Not that any Brooklynite with a conscience thinks the Dem pols running the rackets over there at Borough Hall are any prize pig. We just want results, unnerstand?
I seriously think we New Yorkers ought to secede from the Union, annex Long Island for our agricultural needs, maybe lease Iowa, hire the Brazilian Army, set up a financial paradise, let the Red States pay their own way for a change. Maybe we can convince Chicago and Toronto to join us in a sort of postmodern Hanseatic League. Why should we bust our asses for these Planet of the Apes rejects and the people who voted for 'em?
Bring me the head of Osama bin Laden. Not Saddam Hussein. Saddam Hussein is like the mermaid in the Barnum Museum: He's a pickled monkey with a fish-ass sewn on. Not Jose Padilla the gang-banging vato loco prison Muslim. Not Martha Stewart. Not Howard Stern. Not Janet Jackson's tit. Not Dan Rather. Not Pervez Musharraf uttering absurd excuses with a straight face. Not Hamid Karzai, handsome and sartorially splendid as he is. Not Ahmed Chalabi. Not the terror alert color-code system. Not Nicky Negroponte. Not the right-wing blogging cavalcade. Not the Swift Boat Veterans for Truth. Not a stream of coffins arriving home in the dead of night to avoid press photographers.
I just want some modest ROI: a single human head, suitable for preservation in formaldehyde, to be displayed in a museum celebrating New York City's spirit of "what, you wanna try an' fuck wid ME??"
This has been a totally irresponsible rant and I was drunk when I wrote it.