The Day Before Al Fest

Make no mistake; Usama bin Laden was terminated with extreme prejudice.   Initial reports claiming that the terrorist mastermind was tapped while engaging in armed resistance were walked back; same for using the cutest Mrs. bin Laden as a human shield.  Not that the grainy details matter.  From the moment SEAL Team Six hit the ground, Usama’s ass was grass.  Two hours later the corpse was dumped into the Arabian Sea -- all in all, a well-planned and executed assassination.
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Former President GW Bush, arguably the worst president in American History, declined President Obama’s invitation to appear with him in NYC.  It appears Bush Junior is having a sad because Obama failed to thank him for killing bin Laden.  After all, everybody who watches Fox “News” knows it was torture and near-heroic incompetence that finally put the rabid Saudi Arabian dog down.   Who can deny that Operation Headshot’s surgical success was not directly related to the tragic invasion of Iraq or policy of torturing detainees?   

And then again, perhaps the linguistically-challenged ex-Decider was upset he couldn’t wear his manly action hero combat flight suit.  He has a point.  Nothing hollers “Mission Accomplished” better than hitching a harrowing one mile ride to an awaiting aircraft carrier.  Its amazing evil-doers everywhere didn’t give up after Bush combined Texas Ranger machismo with arousing Village People homoeroticism:  Stroking the shaft of ‘American Exceptionalism’ always has a happy ending when the commander-in-chief is wearing a Johnny Wad-sized cod piece.   Television talking heads were turned on watching the Rove orchestrated photo op.  Chris Matthews, among others, staged a three day circle jerk celebrating the moment G.I. Joe finally avenged the Carter presidency.   Even though congenital locker room heterosexuality makes wearing  pink physically impossible, I’ll admit my impressive todger tingled when Dead Eye Dick emerged from the cockpit in 21st century gladiator garb. 

I listened to Rush Limbaugh for about twenty minutes this morning.  You’d think that a draft dodging OxiContin freak -- otherwise known as “The Doctor of Democracy” -- would be thrilled Usama was toast. Let’s face it, the guy had a fucking military color guard at his last wedding.  In fairness,  Elton John’s paid presence always lowers any ballroom’s testosterone level, so hiring extras to march around with flags elevated the spectacle up to what Christian traditionalists consider an appropriate pre-connubial bliss sperm count.  But I’m at a loss trying to understand why such a hardcore patriot wouldn’t cast partisan politics aside and salute the successful mission.  Surely “America’s Anchorman” isn’t just another talk radio hack.   That’s the type of behavior I’d expect from anti-Obama hating racists, not someone who peddles LifeLock.
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The Donald will not be participating in the Indy 500.  He had to decline pace car duties because an unplanned food fight between  Lil John and Meatloaf required his mediation skills.  I’m impressed that his devotion to reality television trumped another free publicity opportunity.  And I’m disappointed.  Although I usually pass on anything to do with internal combustion engines, I would have checked out The Donald’s participation -- especially if there was the chance he’d remove his crash helmet on camera.