Hey look - a political post!
What with all the recent sex scandals and donut dust-ups, there's been plenty to go on about, but I just haven't been able to muster the energy to write about stuff, especially seeing as how the world is going to end and there's nothing we can do it about.
Anyway - I saw
this item about Scotty Mac and his man-crush on Obama, and I've been sort of tracking reaction to his new book, wherein he belatedly critiques the old company he used to work for (you know, that little Haliburton-BushCo joint venture up in DC), and I'm thinking, you know what? Too little, too late, Fat Head. You want to atone, to make nice? Here's an idea:
Take the money you make off this book, buy a Greyhound pass, and go across the USA visiting every family who's lost someone in this godforsaken Iraq fiasco, and look them all straight in the face and tell them you're sorry. Apologize to them for helping sell this steaming pile to the American people, to the press, to us. You were the Wilford Brimley of Gulf War 2.0; you played a doctor on TeeVee. Smoking gun mushroom cloud yellow cake bullshit. You stood up in front of the press every day and did your little song and dance, and demeaned Richard Clarke for doing what you have now done, and helped sell out Valerie Plame, and ran interference for Karl Rove (you were Bandit to his Snowman).
Yeah, that was you. Own that.
