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In celebration of Hallowe'en, I now prove I am no kind of poet, and present an updated version of Poe's The Raven - now made even scarier!
The Bushraven
Once upon a primetime dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, Over many a quaint and boring program of TV lore, While I nodded, nearly sleeping, on the screen there came a creeping, Our Great Leader, that awful crashing boor. `Not this shit again,' I muttered, `I’ve heard it all before - I should make a run to the store.'
On the screen he took the stage, he looked as if her were caged, And then he began to blather on and on just like before. My brow began to furrow. Into the cushions I wanted to burrow. For under the cushions in my burrow I could escape the media whore - I’ve known for years now he is rotten straight to the core - And will be forevermore.
Our Great Leader began his speech. “Nouting is out of reach! We will prevail in Iraq! We will stay, and we will win the war! Each day that passes brings many new exciting things `'Tis a great age to be an Iraqi, that’s for sure! And we will stay the course until the course is o’er” Quoth the moron “Evermore!”
I instinctively slapped my forehead so often these days it stayed red. Bush frustrates me so much that I almost want to roar! I cried “Why is he so obtuse?” And of course it was no use; Bush was building up some steam, he began to speak like in a dream, “We will prevail in the Middle East, we will conquer the Muslim Beast!” Quoth the dolt, “It’s total war!”
“Iran is causing us trouble. They want to turn Israel into nuclear rubble. We can’t let them get away with things like they did before.” The hackles on my neck rose. This was clearly an invasion pose. It won’t be long before Iran is brought into the war. “They threaten world peace. We won’t allow them to terrorize any more.” Quoth the idjit, “Nevermore!”.
To my chagrin he continued, “Iran is just the next venue We will pursue the evildoers like never before! North Korea will come next, Kim Jong Il has us vexed, He has shown himself to be an evil spore! If he continues on his path he asks for war!” Quoth the bonehead “Evermore!”
Then Our Great Leader started whining. Seems his tools needed refining. They didn’t generate nearly enough horror. “Americans must be safe,” he said. “We need methods filled with dread.” And so habeas corpus goes out the door - And add to that posse comitatus and some more! I’m now afraid to open my front door.
Then the question period began. “Mr. President, what about Japan? What do they think about your threat of war? North Korea is their neighbor,” asked a reporter now out of favor. Bush just frowned and shook his head. “The Japanese support our war Don’t ask questions like that anymore!” Quoth Rove’s puppet, `Nevermore.'
Someone asked about employment. Bush answered with enjoyment - “The economy is stronger than before!” I was stunned at what I’d just heard from that smirking little turd! I cried, “If that’s the case then why am I so poor?! With three college degrees I have, and more! Why is finding a job such a chore?!”
David Gregory was good; Bush looked frozen where he stood. “Mr. President, I want to ask about what you said before, Does the Military Commissions Act American freedoms retract?” Bush looked panicked and terrified like before, He said “Don’t you get it? We’re at WAR!” Quoth Dim Son, “We’re at WAR!”
Finally the headache was at an end. Good thing – I was going round the bend! Bush was getting questions he couldn’t ignore.. He had to cut the conference short before he seemed even more a wart On presidential American History’s décor. “No more press conferences,” muttered Bush, and walked out the door Quoth teh stupid, `Nevermore.'
I was staring at my screen in shock, when at the door I heard a knock. With rising fear and dread I went to open the door In flew a raven! He landed upon my still outstretched hand. I stared, and felt my premonitions soar, I remembered my studies of mystic lore. I tried to start a rapport.
The raven, it has been said, is the spirit of the dead. It can see into the future as it can the past before. My curiosity aroused. I asked a question of it now, “Dear bird, how long must we this idiot endure? Can we ever escape Bush and his love of war? Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
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