Well, tonight is the night. Dubya’s final State of the
Union. An event I’ve been dreaming about since 2001. The final report from the most corrupt presidential administration in American history. The coda, if you will, on seven years of conflicting stories, fabricated scenarios and outrageous lies that have quite possibly done irreparable harm to the Constitution and the future of the rule of law and its role in helping to govern our “great” nation. This administration managed to smash the mirror in which we as Americans see ourselves in relation to the world and we’ve been sitting shiva ever since. But today my friends, the seven year streak of bad luck has ended.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about those who didn’t live to relish this moment, those who would share my sense of relief and giddy apprehensive joy like Molly Ivins and Hunter S. Thompson. Voices of reason in an increasingly unreasonable world. But there are new voices and a sense of hope that has begun to seep into the country’s wounded psyche. We’re teetering on that brink of possibility. Of course, we can just as easily fall over the edge into an abyss of shit beyond our wildest dreams. But I think the Kool Aid is starting to wear off and folks are more lucid and balanced. It was all those meditation and yoga sessions we collectively took to take our minds off the pending apocalypse of the last seven years.
As the nation cautiously registers what will hopefully be an insignificant speech, we can all take solace in the fact that we will never again have to hear about the state or our country through the medium of this bumbling lunatic. Pray that he finishes up without another “axis of evil” sound bite or worse, having planted the seeds for a new declaration of war. Perhaps we’ll have a bird’s eye view of Bush’s farewell kiss to Joe Lieberman. Ahh, I’m all warm and fuzzy.
Speaker Pelosi, make sure they lock the doors – don’t let Rove get in – he has a mental connection with the president and can make him say anything! Senator Dodd, always stay in the President’s line of sight, especially when he starts rambling on about FISA. And for God’s sake, don’t look Cheney directly in the eye, his gaze will render you powerless. Fixate on George, he doesn’t know how to look anyone in the eye. You know your mission. You've been preparing for this moment for years. Don't blow it. We're counting on you. Make us proud, or at the very least, keep my nausea at bay.