Thinking of George Bush the other day -- which I'm required to do from time to time, a downside of this gig -- reminded me of one of the greatest of all American movies: Billy Wilder's “Sunset Boulevard,” a dark, elegant story of decadence, naked ambition and faded glory played out on the crumbling edges of Hollywood. It begins with a lingering shot of a corpse floating facedown in a swimming pool while an unseen narrator provides a voice-over. Astonishingly, you soon realize that the narrator (begin ital) is (end ital) the corpse. We are listening to a tale told by a dead man.
The scene is a perfect metaphor for the Bush Iraq policy. It too is floating facedown in the pool while Mr. Bush, its author, prattles on about victory, unmindful of the fact that it's dead, as is his presidency....
I'm not even going to mention that while all this was going on the Bush daughters, those beguiling twins Jenna and Barbara, were cavorting in Argentina, behaving so outrageously that the Argentine government asked them to leave.
I don't mention it because picking on politicians because of their dimwit children seems to me the second-last refuge of scoundrels, right before Fox News. I will pass on, however, Jon Stewart's observation that while Argentina welcomed fugitive Nazi war criminals with open arms after World War II, the Bush twins were more than it could take. Makes you wonder what they were doing and whether we can get pictures, doesn't it?
It's no wonder Mr. Bush doesn't read newspapers. After all, what's reality ever done for him?
http://www.highlandnews.net/articles/2006/12/21/opinion/07kaul.txt