Oh, GWB.
I caught some snippets of your interview with Matt Lauer (insert weird, inexplicable celebrity crush sigh here) this morning on NPR. And, along with the rest of most of society, I damn near stabbed myself in the sinus cavity with my toothbrush when you said that Kanye West's comment ("George Bush doesn't care about black people") was one of the worst days of your Presidency.
I feel for you, man; I really do.
No, actually, I don't. I'm totally lying.
You stood by and watched while thousands of people lost their homes, their sense of safety and security, and every shred of a right to the pursuit of happiness in a domestic national disaster that was one of the worst in documented history. You shrugged your shoulders and "Boy, is my face red!"-ed your way all over the press when it was revealed that not only were there no WMD's in existence in Iraq, but perhaps further documentation that perhaps this information was readily available to you much earlier then you let on. You sat there, shell-shocked and most likely leaking some sort of bodily fluid in front of a classroom of kindergartners when someone whispered in your ear the the US had just been the victim of a series of heinous, shocking, and axiom-shattering terrorist attacks. And these are only the big-ticket news items.
But yet you, strutting around claiming that the Lord has saved you and that you will do good in His name for the rest of your life, called someone's attack on your personal character "one of the worst days" of your Presidency. You can crush much of the middle class under your cowbooted heel with the power of policy, grind out entire lower-income neighborhoods after a hurricane with one sweeping gesture of highly inappropriate ennui, and you can point your finger and declare war and chase after imaginary WMD while families of 9-11 victims wring their hands and wonder how everything got suddenly so very frighteningly out of control. You can do all of these things and take criticism and deflect accusations, but GOD FORBID someone point out an aspect of your personal character in a way you find offensive. That, GWB, is apparently where your line of reason gets crossed.
Oh, really? Is it now? THAT was one of the worst days of your Presidency?
How DO you keep the inside of that bell jar in which you reside free of your skunk-smell?
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