I like to listen for what the Crawford Coward has to say in response to each new reversal, each fresh indictment of a political ally, each revelation of his government's arrogant incompetence.
So put yourself in his sweaty socks for a moment: how would you publicly react at the end of a week in which the body count from Iraq passed 2,000; where the polls continued to show that two-thirds of Americans had openly noted your tyrannical incompetence; when you were forced by leaders of your own Congressional hegemony to accept the defeat of your Supreme Court nominee, and at the moment you had learned that FBI agents were at your house, the people's house, to deliver an arrest warrant on one of your senior staffers? Here's how our boy did it:
Bush referred to Libby as someone who worked tirelessly for Americans. “He served the vice president and me through extraordinary times in our nation’s history,” Bush said.
When you are this far removed from reality, to lie and to defame others is to serve. When you are thoroughly disconnected from the remotest sense of truth, then falsehood becomes your staff, the only virtue known to you. This is the psychology of President George, Vice President Dick, Secretary Don, and Spinmeister Karl. As destructive as his actions were (remember that 2,000 figure from earlier in the week) the Scooter is a bit player in all this, and that's something we'll all have to remember as this develops further.
Another supporting character in this tale of criminal deceit and murderous manipulation is National Security Advisor Stephen Hadley, who was the NSA's Deputy at the time all these skeletons were first put into the closet (hey, it's Halloween weekend). The Center for American Progress today notes an interesting coincidence between a Hadley meeting with an Italian spy and the subsequent "revelation"—eventually given in Bush's State of the Union address—about Niger selling yellowcake uranium to Saddam. The problem is that the CIA wasn't fooled for a moment:
Prior to the 2003 State of the Union, Hadley was warned three separate times by the CIA not to push the claim that Iraq sought to purchase uranium from Niger.
When the cover began to come off this story, the reaction of Hadley and other Bush moles was to pass the blame, as Progress further notes:
Hadley also headed up the administration effort to pin the blame on the CIA. The Washington Post reported, "Behind the scenes, the White House responded with twin attacks: one on Wilson and the other on the CIA, which it wanted to take the blame for allowing the 16 words to remain in Bush’s speech.
There's more on this sub-plot in The American Prospect, which is well worth reading. For our purposes, I hope it is clear by now that we are witnessing the slow tipping of a massive rock of Neronian decadance, which is revealing such a labyrinthine nest of vermin beneath it as to rival any impossibly corrupt scenario available on reality TV. It is disturbing, and (as Joseph Wilson pointed out again today), tragic. Yesterday, I remarked in detail on this extraordinary man's wisdom, but it bears another look. Here's part of what he had to say today:
Today, however, is not the time to analyze or to debate. And it is certainly not a day to celebrate. Today is a sad day for America. When an indictment is delivered at the front door of the White House, the Office of the President is defiled. No citizen can take pleasure from that.
Yet Duhbya has nothing more to say about it all than to praise his subordinate criminal's loyalty and to assure us that he is back to business as usual. What business, you may ask?
"We’ve got a job to protect the American people, and that’s what we’ll continue to do,” the President said.
If this is protection, then maybe I'd rather handle that job on my own, or else I can try this. But if I want to be protected by criminals, I'd opt for the Mafia.
Good News Dept.: Congratulations to New York's The Village Voice on its 50th anniversary, which has been appropriately observed by Nat Hentoff's celebration of personal journalism.
And as we prepare to walk in the Halloween Parade, let's pay a cyber-visit to the man who wrote the song and made so much great music: Lou Reed (the hilarious Lawrence Welk video alone at the top right of Lou's home page is worth the click).
The past keeps knock-knock knocking on my door
And I don't want to hear it anymore
No consolations please for feelin' funky
I got to get my head above my knees
But it makes me mad and mad, makes me sad
and then I start to freeze
In the back of my mind
I was afraid it might be true
In the back of my mind
I was afraid that they meant you
The Halloween Parade
At the Halloween Parade