Part VI of a continuing series chronicling the life and times of President George Walker Bush.
Click here for Part I.
Click here for Part II.
Click here for Part III.
Click here for Part IV.
Click here for Part V.Part VI: Austin's PowersOne morning early in 1994, George W. Bush's phone rang, waking him from a deep liquor-induced sleep. "This better be good, whoever you are, or I will fuck you up," muttered Bush, and a familiar voice responded, "It's Turdblossom, sir. Karl Turdblossom." He was calling with news that George's brother Jeb was running for governor of Florida.
"I was some pissed off," Bush recalls. "I thought if my dickwad brother got his own state to run, then I should too. Me and Turdblossom talked about it and I asked him which state he thought I should run for governor in. He said why not Texas, seeing as how I lived there and all. I knew then that this was a real smart guy I had to have on my team. So that's why I decidered to throw my cat in the ring."
The decision could not have come at a more dire time for Texas. Under the radical socialist tyranny of Governor Ann Richards, the state had witnessed decent economic growth even as the rest of the nation suffered through a harsh recession. Richards had saved Texas $6 billion by rationalizing government bureaucracy. Her "Robin Hood" initiative ensured more funding for schools in poor minority districts. Her reforms of the prison system kept more violent offenders behind bars longer, and reduced inmate substance abuse. Clearly, Richards represented a grave threat to Texas and had to be stopped before she could do further damage. But how?
Rove came up with a multi-pronged strategy. While his team push-polled voters about important issues like the number of lesbians on Richards' staff, Bush began intensive sessions with private tutors, who drilled into the candidate the fine points of being the kind of guy voters would want to have a beer with. Don't sneak sips of the voter's beer, they counseled. Pay for a round now and then yourself, they advised. Don't vomit on the voter, they warned. Don't leer at or paw the voter's spouse, they noted. If the voter is bald, don't rub his head without asking first, they cautioned. Don't pass out at the bar, they insisted.
The lessons were contrary to his life experience and ran counter to every instinct he had, but he persevered, week after week, beer after beer.
Rove's diligent smear campaign against Richards, meanwhile, was gaining traction. Throughout the summer, polls showed increasing numbers of voters variously convinced that Richards was an African-American male, a Russian spy, the Antichrist, the reincarnation of Hitler, an exotic dancer named Brandi, or a woodland vole.
As summer turned to fall, Texas was gradually becoming Bush country.
On election night, Bush received two pieces of glad news. First, that he had beaten Richards, and second, that his brother Jeb had lost the Florida race to incumbent Lawton Chiles. "Served the little bastard right," Bush recollects fondly.
Jeb would go on to become Florida governor in 1998, earning an affectionate new sobriquet from his older brother, "Governor Stinky Little Copycat".
Once settled in the Governor's Mansion, Bush immediately pivoted from politics to policy. On learning that Texas was a state with a "weak governor" constitution, he declared war on Oklahoma as a show of strength. Within days, units of the Texas National Guard reached Oklahoma City, staging daring panty raids in coed dorms at Oklahoma Baptist University. Air support for the invasion was commanded by Governor Bush himself, though he failed to reach Oklahoma when his plane ran out of fuel over Gainesville.
He ejected safely and hitchhiked back to Austin. In front of the state house, under a tastefully gigantic red, white and blue "Mission Accomplished" banner, he addressed the troops:
"My fellow badass Texan warriors, major combat operations in Oklahoma have ended. In the battle of Oklahoma, Texas and our allies in the oil industry have prevailed. And now our coalition is engaged in securing and reconstructing that state.
In this battle, we have fought for the cause of liberty and the end of 'weak governor' status for Texas. Your courage, your willingness to face danger for your state and for each other made this day possible. Because of you our state is more secure. Because of you Oklahoma is free. Because of you I'm the big cheese, the enchilada supremo.
Operation Okie Freedom was carried out with a combination of precision and speed and boldness the enemy did not expect and the world had not seen before. In the images of celebrating Okies we have also seen the ageless appeal of human freedom. Decades of lies and intimidation could not make the people of Oklahoma love their oppressors or desire their own enslavement.
We have difficult work to do in Oklahoma. We're bringing order to parts of that state that remain dangerous. We're pursuing and finding leaders of the old regime who will be held to account for their crimes. We've begun the search for hidden chemical and biological weapons, and already know of hundreds of sites that will be investigated.
And we will stand with the new leaders of Oklahoma as they establish a government of, by and for the Okie people. The transition from dictatorship to democracy will take time, but it is worth every effort even if we have to break the bank to achieve it. Our coalition will stay until our work is done and then we will leave and we will leave behind a free Oklahoma.
The use of force has been and remains our last resort. Yet all can know, friend and foe alike, that our state has a mission: We will answer threats to our security, and we will defend the peace.
We are mindful as well that some good men and women are not making the journey home, having decided that the weather in Oklahoma is better. I disagree, and they can go straight to hell for their treason.
To those of you who returned to Texas, thank you for serving our state and our cause. May God bless you all. And may God continue to bless Texas."With the war behind him, he turned his attention to domestic matters. The budget surplus bequeathed by Richards provided a perfect opportunity to enact a $2 billion tax cut for people who didn't need it, ensuring that fiscal solvency would not soon threaten the state again. More revenues were diverted to faith-based initiatives. He also devoted a lot of time to environmental issues, undoing the shameful downward spiral toward cleanliness that Richards and her leftist followers had initiated.
It was in essence a warm-up drill for his eventual appointment to the Presidency, though many innocent Americans didn't realize it at the time.
As an exodus of horrified liberals began fleeing the state, grateful voters rewarded Bush with a second term in 1998. There was still much to be done, and the agenda was made even tougher by his habit of taking several months of vacation time annually.
Highlights of his second term included rehashing everything from his first term, but he was bolder than ever in funneling public money to faith-based organizations and slashing taxes for the rich. The transparency of his crony appointments and obscene giveaways to the private sector impressed even Rove.
As his second term neared an end, Bush declared June 10, 2000 Jesus Day in Texas. "Lots of folks thought Jesus Day was my idea," Bush remembers. "Well, I wish it had been. It was really thought up by some British guy, I think. Maybe Tony Blair, but I'm not sure." Original or not, Jesus Day cemented Bush's reputation as a devout pseudo-Christian.
By 2000, Texas had slipped significantly in national education rankings, environmental standards, fiscal health, infrastructure soundness and a myriad of other areas. Bush's work there was done.
His next career move would take the nation by storm.
Next Thursday, Part VII: A Square Peg In An Oval Office.