Thursday, December 15, 2005

Future Bush Script: Bush & Hitchens


Andy Card:
Xbox 360 ?

President Bush:
QUIET!!! Dweebacle- You're blocking the screen . Go get me cheeseburgers - oh, by the way, clean your shirt - you have ketchup stains all over it. 'Murican pee-pol want White House discipline, honor and dignity.

Andy Card:
Yes Mr. President. Sorry Mr. President

President Bush:
Stop apologizing - No wonder your lonely. When you're no longer staff, you'll wanna get out and meet someone, maybe settle down. Women sense weakness. You know - instinct and intuition - it's in their hormoney; the experts call it hydrogen. Chemistry. Makes 'em moody, but powerful.

Andy Card:
Uh, ... I'm married, Mr. President. My wife is a Minister. You've known ....


President Bush:
Yeah, Yeah,Yeah - Then confess to her, not to me, A.C.... (President tosses a Doritio and half a Fig Newton at Card)

Andy Card:
Ok Mr. President, Yes Mr. President, I'll be back soon. Medium? Medium rare?

President Bush:
What are you doing?

Andy Card:
Cleaning my shirt - getting the ketchup stains out, looking professional, respecting the office. Standards. You asked me to, Mr. President. I'll get those burgers.

President Bush:
You're shirt was clean, Half-Deck. There was no Ketchup stain. Don't shift blame. Accountability. Why didn't you just say, "Mr. President, my shirt is spotless, there are no stains." You see Andy, sometimes you're weak - I'm here to help. You gotta learn to overcome that weakness. Now- go get us some cheeseburgers.

Andy Card:
Yes sir - Right to it sir. Thanks for the advice, Mr. President.

President Bush:
Hey - did you just come in here to just bust my chops and break my PlayStation chill? I'm in my wet spot right now. What's the matter with you? Xbox 360? Are you kidding? I'm old school, if it were up to me, I'd be back in the day - putting my quarters on the Asteroids machine, rather than collecting my quarters to buy hemorrhoids cream, beyotch.

Andy Card:
Oh yes, sorry Mr. President - I came to tell you that Christopher Hitchens is here to see you and discuss Kurdistan and the Iraq war.

President Bush:
Hitchens? Do I know him? Is he cool?

Andy Card:
Pretty cool - sort of, sometimes. Karl thinks he's useful

President Bush:
Karl's dweeby, but I've taken him under my wing - Maybe it's time to , you know, remind him of his place in the Dubyaverse.

Andy Card:
Yes sir - couldn't agree more. Time to remind. Time to remind. Maybe let him know. I'll let Hitchens in and get the cheeseburgers.

President Bush:
Watch yourself, Half. You're not exactly Delta material yourself. Don't get too far ahead of yourself. Capicey Cooly? One medium. One medium rare. One with pickle. One without. Mustard on the side. Bring in this Hitchens. Remember, details are important. Keep those ketchup stains out, you shoes clean, your hair combed, check your fly, your tie, and never let 'em see you lose your cool.

Card adjusts his tie, which was fine to begin with.Then he checks his fly, notices it fine, but in an abundance of obsequious caution, pretends to zip it anyway. As he goes to dust off his shoes, which are spotless, the President commands his attention.


President Bush:
What are you doing? Everything is fine. Why pretend otherwise? Life is tough enough as it is.

Andy Card:
Yes sir. As you say, it's the details that count sir. Standards.

President Bush:
Don't shift blame. It's not what I said that's at issue here. Better be carefull; you don't wanna be demoted; you don't wanna be a QUARTER-Deck.

Andy Card:
Yes sir. No, please don't demote. Sorry sir. Hitchens and cheeseburgers - gotta go get them.

----------------------------------------

Card exits the scene as Hitchens walks in. At the last second, The President calls out to Card by his diminutive 'Half-Deck.' Bush throws Card a football jersey in what seems like, to Card, slow motion. On the back of the jersey, the name "Mean Joe Dubya," is printed in bold letters. Card catches the jersey, smiles, then leaves.

The original inspiration for this managerial morale booster was the President's favorite old TV commerical, which he watches when he wants to "get psyched." In the commercial, one of the President's role models, legendary pro football tough guy "Mean Joe Greene," refreshes himself post-game with a Coca-Cola. "Mean Joe" then shows his compassionate side by tossing a used jersey to a young fan. Hoping to leverage these kind of sentiments, Karen Hughes had thousands of "Mean Joe Dubya" jerseys printed up. When they failed to win over many voter blocs, Hughes decided to re-deploy the high quality jerseys by giving them to favored staff, big donors, key diplomats and visiting heads of state.

A mini-scandal ensued, when a discarded jersey was found in a dumpster outside the French embassy, one night after a Christmas party. This led to a boycott of Euro-Disney by some Steelers fans, a boycott of Paris by three counties in West Texas, and rumors of a boycott targeted at Cote d'Azure, by the O'Reilly show.

-----------------------------------------

President Bush:
Who are you?

C. Hitchens:
I am Hitchens. Who, pray tell, did you think I was? Frere Peter? Brer Rabbitt? Uncle Remus? Mister Dooley?

President Bush:
You are Hooch. That is your name - Hooch! Say it! (The President, inverts his forearm, then snaps a bottle cap toward Hitchens, just missing his face.)

C. Hitchens:
I am not Hooch, I am Hitch. My nickname is Hitch. Let's be clear. Mr. President. I am sorry to say, this one time, you have been pre-empted ....

President Bush:
Not Hitch, bumble bee-otch!!! You're Hooch. I no longer drink, but Karl says you like a drop. No big deal. My staff hears so much gossip, they should be wearing hairdriers. Maybe Karl or Scooter heard that from someone in the liberalmedia. Maybe it was Judy Miller, or Matt Cooper, or Russert? Who cares? So you are my Hooch, my drink, not my pooch. Blair is my poodle. Poodle is a pooch, but you are my hooch. Blair and Hitch. You're both My Slimey Limeys! Ha Ha! Poodle and Hooch, Starsky and Hutch or whatever - just accept it bimbo. Don't be uncool. What can I do for ya? I'll tell ya what you can do for me, keep your shadow and your I-have-A-Coupon-For-A-Roy-Rogers-Bacon-Burger body from blocking Da PlayStation game screen - this ain't yo mamma's Space Invaders I'm playing, playa!

C. Hitchens:

Holy Mary, Mother of Modernism ...

President Bush:
Waooooossss, you saaaaaaayin, superfly?

C. Hitchens:
Nothing really - basically just talking to myself, trying to recall why I'm here, ahh - Look, you're a very busy man, as I can see. So am I. Let's get down to business.


President Bush:
Hey, I'm busy. I'm a busy bee! Work, Work, Work, Heeeeelllllllloooo Boys, I missed, Ya. Hahahahhaha. You now what movie that's from? I've seen Blazing Saddles more than I care to admit. Hahahhahahahah. I understand you support E-rack-ee Freedom. You support my war? Good for you.


C. Hitchens:
Support your war? Look closely, Mr. President. Do your see these crenellations on my frontal lobe? See these embrasures below my eyelids?

President Bush:
Maybe, if I looked. I'm busy. What's your point, Englishman.

C. Hitchens:
You said "my war." Who do think is doing the fighting? While the military deserves its share of credit, 'tis Hitch who keeps the Free Iraq flag flying high, above the ramparts, at least in most upscale publications. Mr. President, I have been the one, manning the ideological Battlements, enduring the seige, the relentless seige, as it pounds and pounds and pounds. This is my war, Mr. President, my soul is slashed, as if by porcupine quills.

President Bush:
Let me ask you a question.

C. Hitchens:
Let me give you an answer.

President Bush:
Do you have an Xbox or a PlayStation?

C. Hitchens:
Frankly, Mr. President, I'm hear to talk about Kurdistan. Do you mind of I smoke?

President Bush:
Um, ah..smoke? (President Bush looks around, and down the hall) I dunno if it's safe.

C. Hitchens:
Is smoking safe? Say it ain't so, Jellicoe. You kept that sinister smoking ban? Instituted by that Hoary Hecate, Hillary ...

President Bush:
Hillary who? Hillary Clinton? What whores? What cats? You love Hillary, right? Half-Deck says you're a commie, just like her.

C. Hitchens:
Love her? Love her? Hillary - the face that launched a thousand sh*ts? I'd let the Trojans capture and keep her, while we feast about our fast ships. I loath Hillery with all of my sinews. Molecules, formerly in extremely pleasant places, within my being, run in rampant madness when ever I hear her name. I fear she is a most dreaded witch. I speak my piece, not peace.

President Bush:
Trojans? Sorry pal, we are officially 'absintence only' - you know, the "base" and Karl's advice and stuff. Interesting idea though. I don't care if you smoke. However, I gotta tell you, I'm Mr. Clean, just like that guy on the deoderant bottle. I have no pipe in here. The wife and kids are out of town, so maybe you can have a looksee around, see what you find. Maybe some old bottles, flasks, tin foil, or even an apple, Mr. handyman? The candyman can. The candyman can. Anyway, nothing wrong with witches Hooch. Witches can be hot. Remember that TV show with the witch, Samantha? She lived in a lantern or a treehouse or shoe or something. She was hot. What's your fantasy wish, from a witch, Hooch? You want a Dorito?


C. Hitchens:
Good God. I only want to smoke a Rothman's cig. I left the Gauloises's at home, out of respect.

President Bush:
Whatever your into, Hooch. I just want it on the record - Dubya don't party no more. Not sayin, I ever did, you know I mean (wink, wink). Family values. The base. Word. You mentioned Kurdistan?

C. Hitchens:
Gracious of you to notice. Yes. Kurdistan. You do know that I love her so! . She is like a Hectic in my blood; Indeed, I am sick with love. Shouldn' t the whole world be so ill? Very well then. I am concerned. There are hints of trouble. Our relationship is strained. She fears abandonment. She is very worried. She has been betrayed before. She has "commitment issues." I am at a loss, trying to re-assure. Alas, I am just a man.

President Bush:
Maybe this sounds harsh, but you know what I think you should do?

C. Hitchens:
Wither wilt thou lead me? Speak : I will follow thee.


President Bush:
Dump her, Hooch. Dump her like a cold stack of pancakes. It does no good ...

C. Hitchens:
Mr. President, you miss my point, er....

President Bush:
Hey, did you just me cut me off? Before you even think about interrupting me again - have a look at England's GNP and their missle budget. Then take a look at mine. Poochy Tony don't mouth off, neither should Hoochy pony. BAMBOZZLE! Where were we. Kurdistan. Look, women are emotional. She will cry. Ultimately though, it's for her good. Don't string her along. Dump her. Vamose. Gone. Bye-bye! Look, your're British. You have stiff lips and sh*t. You ever heard of Winston Churchill? He was before your time.

C. Hitchens:
Churchill? Indeed, I have.

President Bush:
Well look, Churchill never met me, cause I'm basically your age, but Walter Churchill, or was it Winston, once said - Now, don't quote me precise and all- I have it written down on pizza box upstairs -From memory , he said, basically, no one is indispensible. Churchill said the graves of England are piled high with indispensible women. Jeez - That sounds harsh even though I am pro death penalty. In other words, Churchill, even with a name that was part Church, thought the indispensible were dispensibile. Yikes. Do the math, Egghead. Now, maybe unlike Churchill, I'm not implying it may be ok to harm anyone. I'm just saying you should dump her for her own good, as well as your own chill-osity. You ain't getting younger. Time to get your groove back, Hooch. Time to find your wet spot, your comfort level. What was her name again? I forgot. I'm busy as a bumble bee.


C. Hitchens:
Uh, Kurdistan

President Bush:
Yeah , Kurdistan. Parents hippies? Hey! There's also city in E-Rack with that name, I think. Hooch, you dating an Oriental from E-rack? Ha! - Whatever. Bottomline, still the same. Ya gotta dump her, like a cold stack of pancakes. Do you think Harriet is a pretty name? I could set you up. Womb has some single friends too.

C. Hitchens:
Womb?

President Bush:
Womb - Sorry, that's the First Lady's nickname. She's my wife, Laura. Don't touch. Double Womb is my Mom, who was also First Lady for my Dad. Double don't touch, Hooch. Hey, America ain't wombded with three wombs. I mean 'Murica. Ha!

C. Hitchens:
Mr. President, to be clear, Charles de Gaulle once noted, in reference to his own indispensible role, that "the cemetaries are full of indispensible men." In other words, De Gaulle was being modest, perhaps falsely, suggesting France will make do with or without him. Now, I assure you, I am not familiar with Churchill saying what you said he said. It's s
o similar, yet so different. Very well then, where were we? Kurdistan. My concern is not with any woman named Kurdistan. Does such a woman exist? I doubt. I doubt. My concern is with the Kurdish area of Iraq, along with all the women in it, not any woman in particular. I am concerned that problems may develop. What if Turkey invades when the Kurds say, "'tis time to part" from Iraq, the nation you and I so gallantly liberated . Cyprus redux? Regarding our oil in Kirkuk, does not Kudistan deserves fair play? Further, it is not too late to seek a newer world. A newer world is coming, whether you wish to seek it or not. Find her first, I say, before she finds you. The dialectic is moving. A good nudge from you is needed to prevent the dialectic from heading off in the wrong direction.

President Bush:
Ah yes, that Kurdistan. That's what I thought. You wus. Don't worry about E-rack. All the women in Kurdistan? Ha! You know what they say, "dialectics are a girls best friend," you dirty dog. Woof Woof Woof!! Forget about the rest of E-rack. 'Murican pee-pol gave me a mandate. God told me to invade, so I invaded. That's my story, and I'm stickin' with it, sometimes. It's in God's hands now. Say your prayers. You worry about stuff you cannot control, like these Oriental girlfriends of yours. Don't worry about E-rack. Be nice to the ladies, though. PlayStation?


C. Hitchens:
Pray? Who prays? Iraq is in your hands. What are you saying? - By the way, I am married- I have no "Oriental" girl friend, much less girlfriends. However, I am touched by your thoughts, not to mention your Anglophilic...


President Bush:
I ain't no Albino fogie. Thats what the liberalmedia tried to pin of Forty-One, just cause he was from New England and not poor. I'm a Texan. Thank God, Dad, and Yale for that. Old times. You're getting all nostralogic. Do you recall the old days, when those old Space Invader machines were still the most popular games. Lots of change spent. Way back when, that is. Where were we, you got us all sidetracked. Iran? Syria?


C. Hitchens:
Pardon? Ah, nostalgia. We go back from whence we came. Let us talk of that, but let us talk of many other things. Let us discuss Iraq, history, and memory. You called me "Englishman." Let us stipulate, just for now, that you are correct about that. Is not England playing Greece to your Rome? If so, indulge my Attic babble. Afterall, it is for your pleasure, not mine. This is your Court. This weary old Hellene, was not once, but is so now, your servent, albeit not very humble. Whilst I now praise famous men, if not the fathers who begat them, I am aware, as are you, that your father was once, where you are now. Do you recall? We were so young. We are so much older now. Much we have seen. More we have learned. Though we pause to reflect, fate remains our clock. Time has strengthened us still. What your father began, you shall finish. You have become greater than your father. As a modern Roman, you are playing Titus to your father's Vaspasian. Complete your father's work, I say, as Titus completed Vaspasian's. The Bush dynasty's conquest of Iraq may be as profound and world-historical as the ancient Roman triumph in Judea, about which we still hear much chatter. Will there be an Arch of Dubya erected in Crawford, just as the Arch of Titus was erected in Rome? Do note, this is a rather piquant allusion. Politically problematic historical allusions, should not be referenced in public; they should be whispered about coyly, among the esteemed Philosophers. For you, I counsel some quietism. Incidentally, other than to see a triumphant Arch, why would anyone ever wish to visit a terra-furnace like Crawford, Texas? Help to visualize Gehenna? Some things are just beyond me, fortunately. I do say, your rhetorical flourish - labeling everyone East of Suez, as "Oriental," triggered in me, a Proustian moment. Your talk of the Orient, my earlier reading of Kipling, add in some plum pudding, rather than madelaines, and it all reminds me of my father, my British heritage, and my family's service to the Empire. Incidentally, my father, served in Her Majesty's Royal Navy....


President Bush:
I accept your apology. You don't like Crawford? Hmm. There actually is a MickeyDees Arch pretty nearby. Anyhoo, you think I'm better than Dad? That's Interesting. Hey, does Silvio Burlesconi know about this Titus? Titus is a funny name. If he had a sister, I bet she was teased. Hehe. Wait a sec. Does the name Susie Titus ring a bell? Way back when. Skidmore? Vasser, maybe? Might be confusing someone. Like you said, we're getting older, but oh boy, we were young once. Ha. I'll have Karen check. Six degrees and roads leading to Rome and stuff? Anyway, we all have fathers. But we don't pray to them, we may use their houses as crash pads and we use their boats and stuff and get their pals to buy stuff and all. However. We don't pray to those fathers. We only pray to the Father. The Big Guy In The Sky!


C. Hitchens:
Hmm, Dick Cheney in a jumbo jet? Otherwise, I'm not a Godist. I'm an anti-theist.


President Bush:
Woooooooo - Mr. Complicated, are you the anti-Christ? Like in that movie ...

C. Hitchens:
Uh no, but I do oppose many of the policy positions attributed to the distinguished gentleman from Nazareth. Compared to you, He seemed a bit soft on crime. Was he not prematurely postmodern, what with his eclectic relativism? I'm puzzled many conservative stalwarts claim to support him. He would probably be to the left of Sen. Feingold on Pentagon spending. Would He have supported last years highway bill in the GOP controlled Congress? With all that pork? Not if he was observant. That's just my humble opinion. Also, with regard to Roman Imperial strategy, Jesus's main cell, the Apostles, failed to grasp the ...


President Bush:
Stop. So you don't really believe in Jesus. What about the Holy Spirit?


C. Hitchens:
Aqua Vitae? Can blended whiskey be called Holy ? If not, neither can the smoke from my Rothman's. Maybe I believe in some unholy spirits. Maybe I believe in aspects of Jesus's platform. Jesus's economic views, though inchoate, seem to have been heading in my direction. Pragmatic market-based socialism? Also, since I'm against the death penalty, if I lived back then, obviously I would have sat on panel discussions in opposition to all that Golgatha madness. Calvary in ancient Judea? Count me against. Cavalry in modern Iraq? You know where I stand.


President Bush:
I'll have to get back you on the death penalty. What about God? You said you don't believe in God? OK, If there is no God, why not just play PlayStation all day? If there is no God to say that's wrong, then what? Think about it. Ok -- I'll give you 50 percent score on Jesus, a 50 percent score on the Holy Spirit, but you get a zero score on God. That's one outta three. 1/3. You fail. Hey - you know what, I once failed a class, but I still graduated Yale, Ha! Since Blair is my Poodle Pooch and Putin is my Pooty-Poot, I need you around, Hooch. You get a pardon from me. Guess who God talks to? You're lucky. I'm glad to help you with your chickie problems. No Oriental girlfriend, you say? No problem. Do you like Afro- American women or African-American maybe, I think. It changes, you know it was black, then whateve. Anyway. Condi is single, upscale, pro-war, well-educated...


C. Hitchens:
No thanks, I'm married, Mr. President - I think I better quit while I'm ahead - or while I still have a head.


President Bush:
Ok... bimbo. You don't believe in God, but you do believe in ME right? In Moi? Go on, say it, say Moi-uncle or Moiuncle. Haha.


C. Hitchens:
Car c'est à toi qu'appartiennent le règne, la puissance et la gloire, pour les siècles des siècles.

President Bush:
Que pasa, Lumpy?


C. Hitchens:
Yes, I believe in you. Do I have a choice? Thine is the Kingdom, the power, and the glory, for ever and ever, or at least I until patch things up with old lefty friends and maintain my green card status and ...


President Bush:
Why speak French? Don't be a Snobby Slimey Limey Hoochy - an SSLH?


C. Hitchens:
Habit, maybe. You used the French word "moi," so I decided to engage. In any event, you may find a measure of French to be quite useful in your Court, if for no other reason than to protect many simple ears from hearing your complicated thoughts, such as they are. Sometimes leadership compells one to protect the rabble in the marketplace from itself. Also, speaking French pisses off all the right people.


President Bush:
What marketplace? Barney Rubble? Whatchoo talkin' 'bout, Mr. Flintstone? Ha, so "Moi" is French? Gotta stop using that one. No wonder Jackass Chiracass was confused when I kept calling him Mister Moi. Anyway, your excuse sounds cool, Dweebacle. You can go now. Game time. Glad to help.


C. Hitchens:
Dweebacle? That's ghastly.


President Bush:
Ghastly? Not me pal. He who smelt it, dealt it. Watch what you eat Hooch. Don't you know there's a war on???



Picture Credit : Seen in many places around the blogosphere. Not aware of its origin, but probably came out when it was reported Bush enjoyed video games during the campaign. Since the President has a sense of humor, as does Hitchens.They both get the last laugh.

31 Comments:

At 5:09 AM, Blogger Pragmatician said...

Quite amusing, these lines could've come straight from Mad magazine.

 
At 8:06 AM, Blogger Tara said...

Hilarious...what a visual :)

 
At 2:44 PM, Blogger Kate said...

LOL. I love Hitchen's dialogue especially. :-) Cute satire. You're right, we do need to laugh.

 
At 3:34 PM, Blogger Eshet Chayil said...

What exactly is a Dweebacle anyway?

 
At 3:53 PM, Blogger Me said...

The sad thing is, part of me is convinced that you didn't make this up, but have a camera in the Oval Office...

 
At 4:24 PM, Blogger Catnapping said...

This is hilarious! Bravo.

 
At 9:24 PM, Blogger Gothamimage said...

Thanks for the kind word - as our "Dubya" would say, it maximizes our chill-osity.

Eshet - Dweebacle is our neologism - It came about as we were trying to tap into a Dubs mind or maybe his Id after we wrote just "dweeb." So we just thought of "debacle," and combined the words in a way that we imagine our imaginary Dubya would when he was hazing an underling.

In real life, even Bush's big fans would probably admit one of the President's least attractive qualities is his habit of nicknaming people with unflattering diminutives, and forcing them to pretend they enjoy it.

Dweebacle takes on a nounish quality if you see and say it over and over again. If we can add a new word to standard Slanglish, then great. Dubya was the inspiration

 
At 10:35 PM, Blogger John said...

Okay. I'll play along. There was "Brownie," and "Rummy," and "Dick" (!), and "Mom" (Mrs. Sheehan).

Any more?

 
At 12:28 AM, Blogger enigma4ever said...

Too funny...you really did get Hitch (Hootch) and Dubya down pat, and I can picture him yelling at Andy demanding burgers ( actually I think in On'Neil's book he does do that)
and he does susposedly play games..scary...that maybe our Military strategy comes from an Xbox or gamecube....great satire...and the nicknames dead on...( and the MAD magazine thing- not true- you are MUCH better than MAD...)excellent- keep us laughing anytime....

 
At 2:41 AM, Blogger Gothamimage said...

Thanks much - Always found MAD to be funny - though it has been long time since we read it. Never one to not appreciate any compliment - Meant to draw charactures, not really accurate - bottom line- does it get a laugh.

John - thanks for your comment - Surprise by your lack of pleasure at some of the anti-Hillery lines we gave "Hitch>" We think those other nicknames have been taken. We'll spare Mrs. Sheehan - We want to make fun of people in power, not at the receiving end. Losing one's son is a pain we don't want to get in the middle of. That goes for all families of Vets - We took great expecption to the President joking about WMD at that Radio dinner in the presence of a war widow. Mrs. Tillman and Mrs. Sheehan are famous , but there are many who are not. Gothamimage alligns itself, by default with those who follow orders, more than those who give orders, no matter which party is in power.

The burger thing was a funny ancdote that I did read and decide to mix in with some others.

The idea of the Bush-Hitch is an allianc made for easy laughs.

 
At 3:28 AM, Blogger John said...

Absolutely. The acerbic, iconoclastic Englishman coupled with "All-Amurican" Dubya makes for strange bedfellows indeed.

But what's stranger (or funnier): Dubya playing footsies with The Hitch on the pro-war side, or Katrina Vanden Heuvel holding hands with Pat Buchanan in the anti-war camp?

Can you write a sketch of a luncheon at the Four Seasons with those two?

Pitchforks and broomsticks?

Go for it!

 
At 4:03 AM, Blogger Gothamimage said...

That's a pretty good match - up . Ball's in your court - Pat and Katrina are good fodder - no doubt about that. They both have huge subtexts. Broomstick? Haha. What is funny, in my opinion, is that Pat and Katrina, differen as they are, share much more in common with each other, as do all elite pundits, than they do, on whose behalf, they presume to speak.
Maybe, we are wrong, but Katrina is more of an editor than someone know for her unique opinions. She is incredible an elite left archetype, in that her politics, while authentic, seem aesthetic too. Pat Buchanan is such a piece a work, that we have been working on piece about him, but we can't figure it out yet.

 
At 4:13 AM, Blogger Gothamimage said...

Just want to clarify - these are caricatures, for laughs. Bits of truth are exaggerated, for fun. Don't know the Four Seasons's well enough, but can imagine Pat and Katrina locked in TV studio elavtor for a weekend, because of a blackout.

We're trying to figure out Laura Bush - No one on the outside knows her, so the left and the right, each draw on their own imagination and craft their own version. Obviously, they are all wrong. So we're trying to make up a new one.

 
At 6:40 AM, Blogger marie curie said...

who is pat morita?! he was mr. miyagi in the karate kid films. oh my. on the plus- great post. you never cease to amaze me

 
At 10:54 AM, Blogger Stacy said...

Excellent. And Hitchens actually seems, ummm...sober.

 
At 12:20 PM, Blogger Richard said...

Ha! Glad I made the trip over. You really should be writing scripts, gotham.

Btw, if you're serious about 'doing requests' -- what about the Blood Brothers ? Bush and Bliar? You know, something like 'When Georgie met Tony'. ;^)

 
At 6:39 PM, Blogger Dem Soldier said...

Gothamimage; Hilarious.....yeah I second that....Bush and Bliar take?

Hitchens what a rat!!! Absolutely fantastic the way U have him down...he and bus(h)sy can't stop drinking....

 
At 7:36 PM, Blogger John said...

"Don't know the Four Seasons's well enough, but can imagine Pat and Katrina locked in TV studio elavtor for a weekend, because of a blackout..."

lol And the wheels are whirring...

Bless you, my subversive Friend of the ABC.

 
At 7:43 PM, Blogger Global Paradigms said...

Thanks for your very kind words. I loved the the exchange which is clever and funny. Leon

 
At 5:47 AM, Blogger Alicia said...

Woo hoo! Brill-yunt! I can see the 'Secret Bush Scripts' becoming a series. Thanks for bringing it to my attention, Gotham - I love it!

 
At 8:01 PM, Blogger Robot Buddha said...

Philip Seymore Hoffman should play Hitchens.

 
At 6:02 PM, Blogger The Liberal Avenger said...

GI is pretty goddamn talented.

I'm jealous.

 
At 9:14 PM, Blogger Drew said...

Good stuff.

Ah lahk toahst...

Yummy, Rummy...

 
At 6:24 PM, Blogger Gothamimage said...

Thanks all. Hope to get laughs. Glad. Blair will be tough. Don't know if I can do. We'll see.

 
At 8:17 PM, Blogger Richard said...

The bones of the Bliar --- lots of exagerated [but controlled] exaspiration ---- and lots of lying lines ---- all begining with "Look!"

The fixed [obviously insincere] ear to ear, tombstone-teeth grin IS tough to put into words though.

;^)

 
At 9:03 PM, Blogger Gothamimage said...

See what you mean - maybe we're wrong, but Blair, though now allied with Dubs on the key issue, seems opposite in some key respects. Bush is unique in politics in that he never reconciles x with y, yet unlike other pols, he always manages to prevail against more exacting critics. Blair also prevails, but he does so with the incredible ability, which Clinton sort of shared a bit - Blair tries to reconcile or tie all sorts of lose ends and old arguments together into whatever he happens to be saying at the time. It doesn't matter if it makes sense. Blair makes it seem like sense, if only for a while. So they compliment each other, in this paradoxical way because they can always cite one another or note each others problems or concerns, as a reason why they do something. Even though oridinary mortals can poke holes thru their arguments, or show inconsitancies, they have the whole schema so muddled that a coherent critique rarely becomes solid enough for enough people to grasp on to.

For ex: Bush can say something in direct contradiction to something he said previously. People note this, but he just plows on. Even if Bush adopted the critique of the Dems, his supporters would probably just shrug. Blair, on the other hand will make complete opposite statements or take positions that only sound completely consistant, though they are no. Blair does this so cleverly that it always seems to mesh with whatever task he has at hand. It's an opposite skill, so Duns can cite him, Blair can cite Dubd, on the record or off. It doesn't seem to matter that the footnotes are all hot air. It's funny, sometimes.

 
At 4:37 PM, Blogger Richard said...

eggs-hactly!

With these two twits, content means nothing. It ain't what they say, but the way that they say it -- as far as their fawning fans see it. When they 'take to the pulpit,' they might as well simply recite the alphabet to their ardent followers -- they'd cheer and applaud in agreement equally as enthusiasticaly, as if their heoroes had actualy spoken sense.

Let's say something like ......

George:

And now a few words from my good friend, Pritish Brime Minister .... erm.... Baloney Tair.

Tony:

F*ck you very much, Mr Pretzeldent. You are honoured to be called a friend, and let me manure you - it is an enormous underprivilege. And rightly so.

Therefore, or perhaps five, it gives me great pleasure - and it will continue to do so - that you consider me to be a fiend. And I shall continue to appear to be so. Let me clear about that, Pepsodent Sush.

It is not for nothing - nor has it ever been the case, nor will it ever be in the future - that I am happy for you to, enormously erroniously, continue to believe that to, indeed, be the chase.

And I can spray here and now, to any terrapinists who still fail to understand, or completely comprehend or perhaps misunderestimate the true stench of our shared fiendship and mutual depth of our joint detergentation, degeneracy and concerted mutual depredation. That Little Briton still stands shudder to shudder with Amerigo ... er ... Vespuci ... erm ... rather, America, that is.

Finally, I'd add this too, Hitler Resident.

Our common or garden joints & anemones should be left in no doubt that we are determined with absolute insincerity and total contradiction that they shall never abseil .......
============================

& so on, ad nauseum ............ untill the gibberish-fest eventually ends ..... with all smiles and back-slapping .... amid wild applause ... followed by rave reviews in the msm, next day.

Er, am I painting a picture, setting a scene, making sense? ( Heh, of course, I mean am I ? ;^)

 
At 6:46 PM, Blogger BarbaraFromCalifornia said...

I love your blog...At first I thought GWB was donning a black and white uniform with stripes!

Wishful thinking on my part.

 
At 12:30 PM, Blogger Dr Leo Strauss said...

Pitch perfect on both ends. There is a screen play in here. Terry Southern would approve! Two Imperial Thumbs Up!

Leo Strauss

 
At 1:29 PM, Blogger Dr Leo Strauss said...

Hi -

Screwed up an earlier post, apparently. It didn't register.

This is brilliant stuff. The voice of both is pitch perfect. Terry Southern would definitely approve.

Happy Festivus!

Leo

 
At 12:18 PM, Blogger PoliShifter said...

Anarchy Burger, hold the government please!

Cheeseburgers, ha!

 

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