We’re moving to Canada

May 082003
Authors: Becky Waddingham, Yuri El Dorado

I feel it is my duty, as Yuri El Dorado, to bring a few things to the attention of all the mindless drones that seem to have taken up residence in our great country. I have precious little time, so let’s get going.

First up on the list of rants is the Republican National Convention, and the time and place in which it is set to occur. September, 2004 in NEW YORK CITY. Now, I am sure that most of you have not heard of this, as the liberal media is loathe to report such things. And for those of you that are not offended by this, please pull your heads out of W’s flight suit, and take this for what it really is.

The nominating convention (which is really just a “it’s-good-to-be-da-king” bash) for either party has never taken place after August. Which is when this one was originally scheduled. But the Republican Party is using the biggest tragedy of many of our lives as the centerpiece for to get the ball rolling on W’s reelection bid.

If this doesn’t sicken you to your very being, that the lives of nearly 3,000 Americans will be used as nothing more than a marketing ploy, then you really should put a coat on, as I bet it is chilly in your cold, soulless body.

And let’s take a minute to talk more about W’s flight suit. Or rather, what the hell he was doing in one to begin with? Well, you say, “The carrier would be too far from land to be reached by helicopter,” and besides, the President wanted “to see an aircraft landing the same way that the pilots saw an aircraft landing”(Thank you, Ari Fleischer). That is all well and good, but I am pretty sure that a helicopter can fly 30 miles (which is how far off the coast of San Diego the ship was during the speech). And if W. really wanted to experience landing on a carrier, maybe he wouldn’t have gone AWOL from the Air National Guard for a year while he was defending the skies over Texas and Alabama during Vietnam.

He was there for a great photo-op, one that we will no doubt see ad nauseam during his campaign. And that is the only reason he went. A Photo-OP. A ridiculously expensive photo-op that you and I paid for. Just think of how many jobless families could have been fed on the price of the jet fuel alone.

But that’s right, you forgot that you were jobless, or about to be. While W. was whooping it up with our boys on the USS Abraham Lincoln, he probably neglected to tell them they are coming home to the worst job market in nearly a decade. Unemployment is at a depression-smelling 6%. But who cares about that? We just won a war over a fourth-rate army. It’s Miller Time. Too bad we can only afford PBR.

Baby Bush probably didn’t bother to tell our troops about the tiny $25 billion dollar cut in VA benefits that they have coming, either. Oh well, it probably wouldn’t have been that big if W had gotten his $550 billion tax cut, instead of the “little bitty” (W’s words, not mine) $350 billion cut he got instead. Gee, how I love reverse logic.

With many of our soldiers already on food stamps (an absolute outrage), it seems like our stalwart leader had a knife in his hand as he was patting our brave boys and girls on the back. And what makes it worse is that at least Joe Sixpack and I are getting the common courtesy of being screwed where we can see it.

 Posted by at 5:00 pm

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