This is good!

Hello, God? It's Me, Dubya
Lord? Bush here. I'm confused. Why won't you crush Kerry and smite the
heathens? Hello?

By Mark Morford, SF Gate Columnist
Wednesday, July 14, 2004


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Are you there, God? It's me, George W. Come in, Almighty. Do you read
me?
It's about 8:00 pm and it's just after my last bubble bath of the day
and here I am again, kneeling here in the Oval Office all by myself in
my most favoritest PJs, the funny ones with the little M-1 tanks and
baseball players all over them. I gots some problems, Lord.

Look, I've done everything you asked. I've been good. Haven't I?

I take the message to the people, don't I? I spout that evangelical
born-again crap in ****water Podunk conservative churches across this
burned-out fear-drunk nation like I was emceeing a freakin' rodeo in
Crawford. And they eat it up, Lord. They eat that stuff up. Hell, I
even believe a lot of that fire-breathin' Second Comin'
evildoer-hatin' stuff myself.


And looky here! Look how much dough I induce those evangelical suckers
to cough up into the coffers of the GOP (that's God's Own Party --
just for you, Lord!). Doesn't that cut me a little slack fer when I
skip over the part where Jesus says "Blessed are the peacemakers?"

Or when he says to turn the other cheek? Or love thy enemies? Or when
the Bible says, "The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace,
patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and
self-control"? Or any of that other pointless pacifist hippie junk?

I mean, forgive me 'cuz I know your boy Jesus was great and all, but
did he have the Carlysle Group breathing down his neck, screaming for
more war profits? Did he have a million neat-o bombs at his instant
disposal? Did he have Rummy scowling down his hawkish nose at him
during naptime? No, he did not.

Look. I behave. I never have sex and I hate that sicko porno gay pagan
naked sexual stuff, and to this day I'm damn proud that those
disgustin' dildo thingies are still illegal in Texas.

Heck, I even want to change the freakin' U.S. Constitution to prevent
them icky gays from ever gettin' legally married and thus soiling the
precious institution of uptight heterosexual man-woman Christian
marriage counseling. I want to codify right-wing homophobia, Lord!
Don't that count for somethin'?

Hell, I'm a former raging alcoholic who stopped binge drinking years
ago (I attributed it to you! Remember?) 'cuz I got so drunk I fell
into a fever dream wherein I coulda swore I saw Jesus chattin' with
Buddha and Shiva and Allah and Isis, and they was all sighing and
shaking their heads and agreein' to send me back in the next life as a
smelly tree fungus. And that can't be good.

Remember, Lord, back in the '00 debates when they asked me to name my
favorite philosopher, and I said, "Jesus"? Remember how cheesy and
obnoxious and cop-outy that was, given how Jesus was actually the
Original Liberal and given how everyone knows I haven't read a single
"real" philosopher of any note since they made me stand up in
Philosophy 1A back at Yale and read a passage from that pagan homo
Plato guy when I could barely focus due to all the gin? Wasn't that
good?

We bombed them nasty Iraqis in Your name, Lord! Afghanis, too! Hell,
I've even gone so far as to tell anyone who'll listen that it was your
very will that we invade those countries, that you were pretty much
speaking to me, through me, when I told General Whatshisname to go
ahead and bomb the living crap outta them evil evildoers and never you
mind the women and babies you just git me some war on terror,
beeyatch! Whoops, sorry.

Oh, I know what them liberals say, that your son Jesus Christ was a
card-carrying pacifist, hated war and hated bloodletting and hated
hate. But damn, your boy certainly didn't know about the price of
crude, you know? I mean, a Christian's gotta do what a Christian's
gotta do to fuel up the SUV and keep the Saudis happy and keep the
Lockheed stock from steppin' in a financial cow pie, am I right, Lord?
Can I get a "Hell yeah"? Whoops, sorry again.

Lord, I just don't understand. I know I'm not much of a businessman,
or a leader, or a public speaker, or a humanitarian, or a
foreign-policy expert, or a lover of nuance, or a deep thinker, or
much of anything positive or life affirming that anyone can name,
really. But I'm a darned nice guy. A "decent man." This is what
everyone says. And I thought we had a deal.

I thought we had an understanding that if I took my narrow
hypocritical bloody misinterpretations of the Good Book's teachings
and spread them all over this planet like Johnny Ashcroft anoints
himself in Crisco every night, I thought if I mocked the separation of
church and state at every turn and brought a twisted version of your
Word to the huddled masses who weren't blessed enough to be in me and
my daddy's tax bracket, you'd sorta, you know, help me out a little.

Like, maybe you'd finally get this ugly Iraq quagmire thing taken care
of for me. Maybe get those scary godless Islamic peoples to see the
born-again light. And maybe in the process guarantee me a first-class
seat on the glory train to salvation? Or at least a friggin' second
term?

Hello? Lord? You still there? God's Own Party, remember? We're all
about you, baby. Except for the blood and the tortures and the
warmongering and the homophobia and the misogyny and the raping of
Your glorious planet on a daily basis. Besides that, you rock!

So, again, before I rush off to bed so Laura can read me another page
of "Goodnight Moon," I just gotta ask: What gives, Sir? I pray every
night that you'll smite my enemies and hold back the heathen liberals
and Democrats and also them idiot environmentalists, the ones who want
to protect the forests and clean up the air and save the freakin'
whales, when, hellfire, I ain't seen a whale here in D.C. since Teddy
Kennedy cannonballed in Senator Leahy's pool. Haw! See? I still got my
God-given sense o' humor! People love that hokey Texas crap! Bless me,
Jesus!

But nothing seems to be working anymore. S'cuze my French, Lord, but
dammit, why you lettin' that cheap Catholic wanna-be Kerry hone in on
me? Why is that commie Michael Moore's 9/11 movie so damn successful,
despite all of Uncle Dick's promises that the party would shut it
down? Why is my "easy" little war only getting worse, and bloodier,
and more confusing, and why is it giving me rashy itches in my nether
parts? Why are my approval ratings slipping down lower'n a altar boy's
pants in a Catholic rectory?

Don't you approve of my religious zealotry? Of how we slam Islam every
day? Didn't you like it when I let Gen. William Boykin say, when
talkin' about hammering them nasty Iraqis, that "my God is much bigger
than their Allah," and it got splashed all over the Arab media? Two
million Muslims hate me like a cancer, Lord! If that don't get me some
bonus points in your book, I don't know what does.

And yet you're still lettin' scandal after scandal stain my pure, holy
name. Rummy and his rape and torture, Wolfie and his Chalabi, Cheney
and his Halliburton, Ashcroft and his Guantánamo Bay, Powell and his
vial of anthrax, Rove and his very existence. Why, it's a gul-dang
rogue's gallery of beady-eyed mean-ass misprision! Hey! Check it out!
I said a neat word! Misprision! I wish I knew what it meant.


You hafta save me, Lord. You have to pump up my poll ratings, get the
damned liberal media off my back (but not Fox News! Never them), make
the people believe again.

See, they're not falling for the fear crap quite so much anymore. The
bogus Orange Alerts and terror warnings ain't having the same effect.
They're seein' through the dumb-guy schtick. They ain't buying any of
the 1,001 reasons we made up to launch war on Iraq. Seems most
'Murkins don't really like being internationally loathed,
disrespected, mocked, being made into a sad global joke. Go figger.

Maybe it'll help when we "capture" Osama bin Laden just before
election time, when we finally "discover" him in a remote hilltop cave
deep in Afghanistan -- a.k.a., a secret basement somewhere in Jersey
where we've had him stashed for months for just this occasion. You
think that'll help? Rove says it's a lock. I ain't so sure.

I guess that's it for now, Lord. I'm getting' sleepy from all this
hard thinkin'. Thank you for listening, Lord. I know you're up there,
right now, waving a little American flag and admiring your NRA
lifetime membership plaque and voting Republican and givin' them icky
gay people some nasty STDs and completely ignoring the rest of this
big scary unpronounceable planet. Gul-dang heathens!

You're the best, Lord. Bless me, one more time, OK? I'm gonna need it.

basskisser wrote:

This is good!

Hello, God? It's Me, Dubya
Lord? Bush here. I'm confused. Why won't you crush Kerry and smite the
heathens? Hello?

By Mark Morford, SF Gate Columnist
Wednesday, July 14, 2004


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Are you there, God? It's me, George W. Come in, Almighty. Do you read
me?
It's about 8:00 pm and it's just after my last bubble bath of the day
and here I am again, kneeling here in the Oval Office all by myself in
my most favoritest PJs, the funny ones with the little M-1 tanks and
baseball players all over them. I gots some problems, Lord.

Look, I've done everything you asked. I've been good. Haven't I?

I take the message to the people, don't I? I spout that evangelical
born-again crap in ****water Podunk conservative churches across this
burned-out fear-drunk nation like I was emceeing a freakin' rodeo in
Crawford. And they eat it up, Lord. They eat that stuff up. Hell, I
even believe a lot of that fire-breathin' Second Comin'
evildoer-hatin' stuff myself.


And looky here! Look how much dough I induce those evangelical suckers
to cough up into the coffers of the GOP (that's God's Own Party --
just for you, Lord!). Doesn't that cut me a little slack fer when I
skip over the part where Jesus says "Blessed are the peacemakers?"

Or when he says to turn the other cheek? Or love thy enemies? Or when
the Bible says, "The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace,
patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and
self-control"? Or any of that other pointless pacifist hippie junk?

I mean, forgive me 'cuz I know your boy Jesus was great and all, but
did he have the Carlysle Group breathing down his neck, screaming for
more war profits? Did he have a million neat-o bombs at his instant
disposal? Did he have Rummy scowling down his hawkish nose at him
during naptime? No, he did not.

Look. I behave. I never have sex and I hate that sicko porno gay pagan
naked sexual stuff, and to this day I'm damn proud that those
disgustin' dildo thingies are still illegal in Texas.

Heck, I even want to change the freakin' U.S. Constitution to prevent
them icky gays from ever gettin' legally married and thus soiling the
precious institution of uptight heterosexual man-woman Christian
marriage counseling. I want to codify right-wing homophobia, Lord!
Don't that count for somethin'?

Hell, I'm a former raging alcoholic who stopped binge drinking years
ago (I attributed it to you! Remember?) 'cuz I got so drunk I fell
into a fever dream wherein I coulda swore I saw Jesus chattin' with
Buddha and Shiva and Allah and Isis, and they was all sighing and
shaking their heads and agreein' to send me back in the next life as a
smelly tree fungus. And that can't be good.

Remember, Lord, back in the '00 debates when they asked me to name my
favorite philosopher, and I said, "Jesus"? Remember how cheesy and
obnoxious and cop-outy that was, given how Jesus was actually the
Original Liberal and given how everyone knows I haven't read a single
"real" philosopher of any note since they made me stand up in
Philosophy 1A back at Yale and read a passage from that pagan homo
Plato guy when I could barely focus due to all the gin? Wasn't that
good?

We bombed them nasty Iraqis in Your name, Lord! Afghanis, too! Hell,
I've even gone so far as to tell anyone who'll listen that it was your
very will that we invade those countries, that you were pretty much
speaking to me, through me, when I told General Whatshisname to go
ahead and bomb the living crap outta them evil evildoers and never you
mind the women and babies you just git me some war on terror,
beeyatch! Whoops, sorry.

Oh, I know what them liberals say, that your son Jesus Christ was a
card-carrying pacifist, hated war and hated bloodletting and hated
hate. But damn, your boy certainly didn't know about the price of
crude, you know? I mean, a Christian's gotta do what a Christian's
gotta do to fuel up the SUV and keep the Saudis happy and keep the
Lockheed stock from steppin' in a financial cow pie, am I right, Lord?
Can I get a "Hell yeah"? Whoops, sorry again.

Lord, I just don't understand. I know I'm not much of a businessman,
or a leader, or a public speaker, or a humanitarian, or a
foreign-policy expert, or a lover of nuance, or a deep thinker, or
much of anything positive or life affirming that anyone can name,
really. But I'm a darned nice guy. A "decent man." This is what
everyone says. And I thought we had a deal.

I thought we had an understanding that if I took my narrow
hypocritical bloody misinterpretations of the Good Book's teachings
and spread them all over this planet like Johnny Ashcroft anoints
himself in Crisco every night, I thought if I mocked the separation of
church and state at every turn and brought a twisted version of your
Word to the huddled masses who weren't blessed enough to be in me and
my daddy's tax bracket, you'd sorta, you know, help me out a little.

Like, maybe you'd finally get this ugly Iraq quagmire thing taken care
of for me. Maybe get those scary godless Islamic peoples to see the
born-again light. And maybe in the process guarantee me a first-class
seat on the glory train to salvation? Or at least a friggin' second
term?

Hello? Lord? You still there? God's Own Party, remember? We're all
about you, baby. Except for the blood and the tortures and the
warmongering and the homophobia and the misogyny and the raping of
Your glorious planet on a daily basis. Besides that, you rock!

So, again, before I rush off to bed so Laura can read me another page
of "Goodnight Moon," I just gotta ask: What gives, Sir? I pray every
night that you'll smite my enemies and hold back the heathen liberals
and Democrats and also them idiot environmentalists, the ones who want
to protect the forests and clean up the air and save the freakin'
whales, when, hellfire, I ain't seen a whale here in D.C. since Teddy
Kennedy cannonballed in Senator Leahy's pool. Haw! See? I still got my
God-given sense o' humor! People love that hokey Texas crap! Bless me,
Jesus!

But nothing seems to be working anymore. S'cuze my French, Lord, but
dammit, why you lettin' that cheap Catholic wanna-be Kerry hone in on
me? Why is that commie Michael Moore's 9/11 movie so damn successful,
despite all of Uncle Dick's promises that the party would shut it
down? Why is my "easy" little war only getting worse, and bloodier,
and more confusing, and why is it giving me rashy itches in my nether
parts? Why are my approval ratings slipping down lower'n a altar boy's
pants in a Catholic rectory?

Don't you approve of my religious zealotry? Of how we slam Islam every
day? Didn't you like it when I let Gen. William Boykin say, when
talkin' about hammering them nasty Iraqis, that "my God is much bigger
than their Allah," and it got splashed all over the Arab media? Two
million Muslims hate me like a cancer, Lord! If that don't get me some
bonus points in your book, I don't know what does.

And yet you're still lettin' scandal after scandal stain my pure, holy
name. Rummy and his rape and torture, Wolfie and his Chalabi, Cheney
and his Halliburton, Ashcroft and his Guantánamo Bay, Powell and his
vial of anthrax, Rove and his very existence. Why, it's a gul-dang
rogue's gallery of beady-eyed mean-ass misprision! Hey! Check it out!
I said a neat word! Misprision! I wish I knew what it meant.


You hafta save me, Lord. You have to pump up my poll ratings, get the
damned liberal media off my back (but not Fox News! Never them), make
the people believe again.

See, they're not falling for the fear crap quite so much anymore. The
bogus Orange Alerts and terror warnings ain't having the same effect.
They're seein' through the dumb-guy schtick. They ain't buying any of
the 1,001 reasons we made up to launch war on Iraq. Seems most
'Murkins don't really like being internationally loathed,
disrespected, mocked, being made into a sad global joke. Go figger.

Maybe it'll help when we "capture" Osama bin Laden just before
election time, when we finally "discover" him in a remote hilltop cave
deep in Afghanistan -- a.k.a., a secret basement somewhere in Jersey
where we've had him stashed for months for just this occasion. You
think that'll help? Rove says it's a lock. I ain't so sure.

I guess that's it for now, Lord. I'm getting' sleepy from all this
hard thinkin'. Thank you for listening, Lord. I know you're up there,
right now, waving a little American flag and admiring your NRA
lifetime membership plaque and voting Republican and givin' them icky
gay people some nasty STDs and completely ignoring the rest of this
big scary unpronounceable planet. Gul-dang heathens!

You're the best, Lord. Bless me, one more time, OK? I'm gonna need it.



This is wonderful...hehehe.

I think Bush's oft-proclaimed "religious-osity" is a fraud. But, then, I
believe the kind of religion Bush claims to follow is a fraud and no, I
don't mean Christianity.

"basskisser" wrote in message

This is good!

Yes, you would think so.

"John Gaquin" wrote in message ...
"basskisser" wrote in message

This is good!

Yes, you would think so.

And why don't YOU like it? It's poignant, and honestly, quite truthful, and funny.

"basskisser" wrote in message

This is good!

Yes, you would think so.

And why don't YOU like it? It's poignant,

poignant?


and honestly, quite truthful,

Consider it truthful if that makes you feel better. It's naught more than a
rehash of all the old canards floated in 2000 by the Dems and their
blow-boys. I have no doubt that all the kool-aid drinkers in Jamestown
thought Father Jim was being truthfull, too. And all those Heaven's Gate
whack-jobs who offed themselves in California really did believe they were
going for a ride on Hale-Bopp.


and funny.

Humor, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. I don't know why anyone
from the South would find that style anything but insulting.

John Gaquin wrote:

"basskisser" wrote in message

This is good!

Yes, you would think so.

And why don't YOU like it? It's poignant,

poignant?


and honestly, quite truthful,

Consider it truthful if that makes you feel better. It's naught more than a
rehash of all the old canards floated in 2000 by the Dems and their
blow-boys. I have no doubt that all the kool-aid drinkers in Jamestown
thought Father Jim was being truthfull, too.

You guys...didn't any of you ever study anything?

It was Jonestown. In Guyana. Jamestown, at least the most famous one, is
the Jamestown settlement in Virgina.




And all those Heaven's Gate
whack-jobs who offed themselves in California really did believe they were
going for a ride on Hale-Bopp.

And George W. Bush thinks same-gender marriage is the most serious issue
facing America.

"Harry Krause" wrote in message

It was Jonestown. In Guyana. Jamestown, at least the most famous one, is
the Jamestown settlement in Virgina.

Yup, you're right. Slip of the memory pad. But you knew the reference --
that's what's important.

John Gaquin wrote:

"Harry Krause" wrote in message

It was Jonestown. In Guyana. Jamestown, at least the most famous one, is
the Jamestown settlement in Virgina.

Yup, you're right. Slip of the memory pad. But you knew the reference --
that's what's important.



A result of my liberal arts education.

"Harry Krause" wrote in message

A result of my liberal arts education.

More likely a result of the fact that you read the newspaper. Jamestown,
Jonestown -- I just grabbed the wrong name. His name was James Jones.

"Harry Krause" wrote in message

Well, of course, but the fact that I read so much is a result of my
liberal arts education,

No doubt true, but I suspect there are a large number of folk with
engineering degrees who also keep up with world events.