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This Banana Peel Called Life PDF Print E-mail
Written by Ed Naha   
Wednesday, 06 June 2007
by Ed Naha

So, after two months with a blown-out stomach, I decide to finally see my doctor. Two hours later, I find myself in the hospital – my first visit to such an institution since I was born. It turns out my digestive track resembled a Picasso and I had high blood pressure to boot. They took more blood during my first day there than Dracula scores in a month. I was given one of those sweet paper kimonos that highlights your hairy ass, wore one of those squid-like chest-clingers to monitor my heart and, via bloodletting, resembled a member of The Black and Blue Man group.

I learned two important facts whilst such engaged. First: the concept of sleep deprivation comes from hospitals, with lovely folks coming in every two hours to take blood samples, measure your blood pressure, rearrange your squid and give you handfuls of pills. Second: Bush and his political circus make more sense when you’re out of your gourd and semi-comatose.

My TV was always on news stations. I swear that during Bush’s farewell to Tony Blair, I saw Tony Blair drop trow and fart in Bush’s general direction, leaving Bush to sum up: “What I know is the world needs courage. And what I know is this good man is a courageous man. And his manly man farts have just a hint of cinnamon.”

The punditry shows were interesting, as well. Since all the of candidates were out on the stump, the lead pundits were left to interview other pundits. The results, in my drug-addled opinion, were amazing. Take “Hardball.”

Matthews: Who do you think could really beat down Hillary Clinton?

First Talking Head: Mike Tyson. No question. He has her in terms of height, weight and sheer ferocity.

Second Talking Head: Godzilla. If he could take down Tokyo, he certainly could take down Hillary.

Third Talking Head: I disagree. The most Tyson could do is bite off her ear. This would only increase her popularity with war veterans. Godzilla? Don’t make me laugh. Hillary’s shifty enough to avoid that clumsy lizard. Me? I’m thinking Gamera.That’s the giant Japanese turtle who spins through the sky and shoots flames out his ass. There’s no way she could touch him and, if she tried, she’d be toast.

Matthews: I love these lofty discussions!

“Tucker” was even more fun.

Tucker: Why do I think that Hillary is just too stiff and distant to be elected President?

First Talking Head: She’s smart?

Second Talking Head: She’s poised and doesn’t butcher the English language?

Third Talking Head: She doesn’t spit in public?

Tucker: I think she’s a bitch.

But it was George W. Bush who contaminated my hospital room the most. In my drug-induced half sleep, Bush seemed to dominate the airwaves in one long press conference from hell.

When asked why he ignored pre-invasion intel that warned Iraq would collapse should Saddam be removed, the President said: “Going into Iraq we were warned about a lot of things, some of which happened, some of which didn’t happen. And, obviously, as I made a decision as consequential as that, I weighed the risks and rewards of any decision. I firmly believe the world is better off without Saddam Hussein in power. I know the Iraqis are better off without Saddam Hussein in power. I think America is safer without Saddam Hussein in power.”

When it was pointed out that, because of his administration’s consistent bungling of just about everything, Bush was asked how could any American find him a credible messenger, Bush replied: “I’m credible because I read the intelligence, David, and make it abundantly clear in plain terms that if we let up, we’ll be attacked. And I firmly believe that…”

“Yesterday, in my speech, I quoted quotes from Osama bin Laden. And the reason I did was, is that I want the American people to hear what he has to say — not what I say, what he says. And in my judgment, we ought to be taking the words of the enemy seriously.

“And so, yes, it could be a bloody — it could be a very difficult August, and I fully understand …”

As to why Osama bin Laden is still at large, Bush theorized: “Why is he at large? Because we haven’t got him yet, Jim. That’s why. And he’s hiding, and we’re looking, and we will continue to look until we bring him to justice. We’ve brought a lot of his buddies to justice, but not him. That’s why he’s still at large. He’s not out there traipsing around, he’s not leading many parades, however. He’s not out feeding the hungry. He’s isolated, trying to kill people to achieve his objective.”

Dismissing the feelings of over 70% of Americans who want us to leave Iraq, Bush intoned: “ I recognize there are a handful there or some who just say, get out, it’s just not worth it, let’s just leave. I strongly disagree with that attitude. Most Americans do, as well.”

Now, normally, at this point, I’d be screaming at the TV screen but filled with drugs I shifted into another, nicer place. I swear I heard a reporter ask, “Are you nuts?”

Bush replied with a smirk and a “heh-heh” before continuing? “Nuts? No, just crafty.”

At that point, he dropped the twang and his voice took on that stiff, nasal quality of his father. “As most of you know, I wasn’t born in Texas, but Connecticut. When I first tried running for office in Texas I was totally ignored. It was Roverino who came up with a solution. I remember it clearly. I was listening to some of my groovy Herb Albert albums when he declared that I had to change my approach, get an accent that would appeal to the rubes. Something folksy.

“My first thought was ‘Gabby Hayes.’ Rove pointed out that I’d have to have my teeth removed and grow a gray beard. Plus, I’d have to say things like ‘dadgummit’ and ‘cornsarnit.’ We also eliminated “Deputy Dawg” for many of the same reasons. We both agreed they were too extreme, so we focused on both Gomer and Goober on “The Andy Griffith Show” as well as Andy himself on “Matlock.” Within months I was wearing jeans, flannel shirts and completely mangling the English language in a good ol’ boy fashion.

“We tried doing the same thing with Laura but the VCR malfunctioned and she wound up watching all the episodes of “Batman” wherein Caesar Romero played The Joker.”

At that point, one reporter asked: “When you say we’re fighting them over there so they don’t follow us home and we have to fight them over here…who is THEM?”

Bush shrugged: “Depends on how I feel. Right now, ‘them’ is al Qaeda, the Taliban, Hamas, suiciders, blower-uppers, execution squads, the Visigoths, the Philistines and Lindsay Lohan. Can you imagine the carnage that would occur if Lohan ever hijacked a bus?”

Another reporter asked: “Why exactly did we invade Iraq and why are we building permanent bases there? The entire country is imploding.”

“Oil and empire, dear boy. Iraq has an amazing amount of oil that Dick, I mean, Halliburton says can easily be pumped. Plus, it’s a way to extend the American Empire. You know, keep the other rag-headed countries in line. Like the Blues Brothers, I’m on a mission from God. I’ll never forget the first time I found Jesus. He was in the kitchen filching some chips and dip. We made a pact that night. I’d stop drinking if he’d help me rev up the concept of The Crusades. We then sat down and watched some TV. Little known fact. Jesus loves the Three Stooges. Adores Curly. He’s not too keen on Moe. Says he reminds him of his own Dad.”

Bush then slipped into his “yee-haw” mode, ending with a wave and a hearty: “It’s been great talkin’ to y’all. Now, I got some bidness to take care of. Y’all come back now, ya’ here?”

At that point, I fell asleep. At last, the truth was out there. By week’s end, I was on my way home sans IV and chest-squid but with hopeful visions of the future. I was given about ten pounds of pills to get me through recuperation.

Alas, without my psychedelic IV, I’ve heard Bush, in the last week moan about the Americans who oppose his Immigration plan “losing their soul.” I’ve heard him compare Iraq to our mission in Korea; a concept that makes factual sense only if you’ve just imbibed a peyote shake. I’ve heard him praise Alberto “Seedy” Gonzales as an “honorable man.” Argh!

And, now, he’s off to attend the G-8 summit. I feel it my civic duty to urge all the other participants to call their doctors and state that they’ve come down with rare cases of “Moko on the au-go-go” and are in dire need of painkillers and sleeping pills.

It will make Bush much more palatable and, besides, you guys at the G-8 never seem to accomplish anything, anyway.
 
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