by Chris Floyd

SONYA: Don't, Boris; sex without love is a meaningless experience.
BORIS: Yes, but as meaningless experiences go, it's one of the best.

— Love and Death, Woody Allen

That pretty well sums up my thoughts on the resignation of Alberto Gonzales. It's a real hoot to see one of Bush's most loathsome toadies humiliated in public, but in the end, it is a meaningless experience.

It will change nothing politically; Gonzales will simply be replaced by someone who will dance on the end of the same strings that jerked him across the national stage for a time. It will not shorten the Iraq war by a single day. It will not stop the now-inevitable attack on Iran, and the hideous murder that will follow. It will not close the concentration camps at Guantanamo Bay, won't empty the "secret prisons" of the CIA or eliminate the tortures practiced there. It will not change by one iota the Bush Administration's odious authoritarianism under the fascist doctrine of the "unitary executive," which exalts the president (and by extension, his minions) above any legal or legislative restraints.

The tens of thousands of refugees remaining from the deliberate destruction of New Orleans will not suddenly be returned to suddenly rebuilt homes. The old, sick, weak, poor and vulnerable now suffering and dying beneath the boot heel of the kleptocracy will not be relieved. The air will not be clearer or the waters more pure. The rule of the Lie will go on as before. And the dead — oh, the many thousands and thousands and thousands of innocent dead — will still be dead.

To be sure, there will be "much throwing about of brains" on the subject of this puppet's discarding. There will be much earnest cogitating on the implications of it all, how it will "play," who "won" and who "lost," who's "in" and who's "out." But it means nothing, because it involves nothing that has any abiding significance. Alberto Gonzales was a human being who made himself into a nobody, made himself into a tool, a b lunt instrument in the hands of vicious, greedy thugs. They bashed heads with him, they broke down doors with him, they smashed windows with him, and now they're done with him. Why would anyone waste their time with weighty disquisitions on the fate of a rusty crowbar thrown aside by a gang of killers — especially when the killers are still on the loose?

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