PERSONALS: SEEKING THE IMPOSSIBLE
I was forwarded this actual entry in a Salon article on the odd allure of British personal ads:
"Shy, ugly man, fond of extended periods of self-pity, middle-aged, flatulent and overweight, seeks the impossible. Box no. 8623."
In traditional understated style, this Brit is marketing his attributes. Even if he attracts only one mate, at least she'll not be disappointed.
It calls to mind one president of an un-united kingdom. His personals ad, addressed to God, should read:
"Arrogant, simple man, fond of delusional escapades, decider of decisions, wildcatter, dry hole, CFO, bankrupt, CEO, Katrina, US Commander, Iraq, looking for 40,000 recruits, seeks the impossible. Box no. 1600 Pennsylvania Ave."
Instead, in traditional overstated style, this American is disappointed our victory in Iraq isn't coming sooner. Unable to admit defeat, our Clown-In-Chief is now poking the Baker/Hamilton Report in the eye and calling for a larger fighting force, doubling down on a terrible hand.
And never is heard, a discouraging word, though the regional war clouds are gathering every day. Also never heard, is the "impeachment" word. Unabated, our clown-in-chief is throwing personnel at his egotistical war. Imagine the personals ads recruiters will need to run to increase the size of the armed forces:
"Uncle Sam wants you, suicidal fools willing to stand between armed Shiites and Sunnis, all expenses paid tour of Baghdad, serve under Commander George W. Bush, be the last to die for a mistake, seeking the impossible. Box 1907 Pentagon."
Where does the line form for that appeal? Meanwhile, Homeland Defense, in the President's words, is not succeeding as fast as he would like. The Los Angeles Times reported that a woman recently put her 1-month-old grandson through an X-ray machine at Los Angeles International Airport. A security worker noticed the shape of a child on the carry-on screening monitor and, after searching for sidearms and stools, declared the baby clean.
It was an innocent mistake by an inexperienced traveler -- compounded by an innocent mistake by an inexperienced security screener. The baby was taken to the hospital where doctors said the infant had avoided a dangerous dose of radiation, though he was nicely tanned.
In 1988, back before 19 terrorists caught our President with his pants down, an infant in an approved car seat went through an X-ray machine at the Los Angeles airport. The parents were cited for not affixing the buckle properly. Eight years later, we are still irradiating babies.
It's hard to see the progress. Had we lost two major American urban centers (not counting Washington) with every president, we'd have 86 fewer cities today. At this rate, Crawford Texas could be the largest American metropolis by the year 2060.
When it comes to homeland security, we are being sold a bill of goods. Personally, the only security measures we really need are impeachment, sanity, and of course, love. For the latter, I know of a "Shy, ugly man, fond of extended periods of self-pity, middle-aged, flatulent and overweight, seeking the impossible. Contact Karl Rove, PO Box 94130."
I was forwarded this actual entry in a Salon article on the odd allure of British personal ads:
"Shy, ugly man, fond of extended periods of self-pity, middle-aged, flatulent and overweight, seeks the impossible. Box no. 8623."
In traditional understated style, this Brit is marketing his attributes. Even if he attracts only one mate, at least she'll not be disappointed.
It calls to mind one president of an un-united kingdom. His personals ad, addressed to God, should read:
"Arrogant, simple man, fond of delusional escapades, decider of decisions, wildcatter, dry hole, CFO, bankrupt, CEO, Katrina, US Commander, Iraq, looking for 40,000 recruits, seeks the impossible. Box no. 1600 Pennsylvania Ave."
Instead, in traditional overstated style, this American is disappointed our victory in Iraq isn't coming sooner. Unable to admit defeat, our Clown-In-Chief is now poking the Baker/Hamilton Report in the eye and calling for a larger fighting force, doubling down on a terrible hand.
And never is heard, a discouraging word, though the regional war clouds are gathering every day. Also never heard, is the "impeachment" word. Unabated, our clown-in-chief is throwing personnel at his egotistical war. Imagine the personals ads recruiters will need to run to increase the size of the armed forces:
"Uncle Sam wants you, suicidal fools willing to stand between armed Shiites and Sunnis, all expenses paid tour of Baghdad, serve under Commander George W. Bush, be the last to die for a mistake, seeking the impossible. Box 1907 Pentagon."
Where does the line form for that appeal? Meanwhile, Homeland Defense, in the President's words, is not succeeding as fast as he would like. The Los Angeles Times reported that a woman recently put her 1-month-old grandson through an X-ray machine at Los Angeles International Airport. A security worker noticed the shape of a child on the carry-on screening monitor and, after searching for sidearms and stools, declared the baby clean.
It was an innocent mistake by an inexperienced traveler -- compounded by an innocent mistake by an inexperienced security screener. The baby was taken to the hospital where doctors said the infant had avoided a dangerous dose of radiation, though he was nicely tanned.
In 1988, back before 19 terrorists caught our President with his pants down, an infant in an approved car seat went through an X-ray machine at the Los Angeles airport. The parents were cited for not affixing the buckle properly. Eight years later, we are still irradiating babies.
It's hard to see the progress. Had we lost two major American urban centers (not counting Washington) with every president, we'd have 86 fewer cities today. At this rate, Crawford Texas could be the largest American metropolis by the year 2060.
When it comes to homeland security, we are being sold a bill of goods. Personally, the only security measures we really need are impeachment, sanity, and of course, love. For the latter, I know of a "Shy, ugly man, fond of extended periods of self-pity, middle-aged, flatulent and overweight, seeking the impossible. Contact Karl Rove, PO Box 94130."
posted by R. Reynolds at 8:43 AM
9 comments
