Hating Bush Forever

Mikaela:

I've been so tied up in fury at the continuing audacity of the Bush administration that I can't even let myself think about it much.

I can't even think too much about the Presidential campaign, because frankly, I don't really care who wins. I mean, okay, I care. But ... I don't really care. I do think McCain looks like a velociraptor when he smiles, and his voice grates on me, but man, he'll be like an aloe salve compared to the Bush-grating my ears have received! I don't even listen to his voice anymore if I can help it.

Which is all to say, that I've been happily whiling away the hours ticking by on his Presidential clock, fingers firmly in ears, la-la-la-ing myself into calm, when last week, I suddenly had this horrifying thought that's stayed with me ever since, like Hepatitis yellowing.

The G.W. personality piece. I don't know why this never occurred to me before, but this is a YOUNG GUY. We have years and years and years of special interest coverage of this doofus on his ranch, going to fundraising dinners, looking intensely into cameras, thumbing his thumbs-up when things either go his way or go wrong in a way he finds validating of his misguided policies.

Can you picture the stories, one a year or more? What do you like best about life after being the President? Can you imagine anything he can possibly say that won't absolutely torture us?

I ... have no answer and no hope. I'm just looking into the future at years of horror. I know the media will never be able to stop themselves. They will never leave him alone.

Oh. My.