Sunday Mornin’ Coming Down

Sunday Russert Sunday: The Mostly Timmuh Edition.

On Fox Gnus – Brit Hume really doesn’t “speak” words any more so much as he flaccidly refluxes them painfully back up one bilious syllable at a time. As though conversing in the Tongues of Men is physically painful for him or, at least, very very gassy.

"Who was Preznit during the Johnstown Flood or the SF Earthquake?" Hume chuckles, as if this is some lost bit of arcane Anasazi tribal trivia instead of actual American History.

“No one will remember Bush for Katrina,” the evil Anti-Gumby rumbles.

“The Humans are Weak,” The Humeunculus chortles. “They shall forget who it was that destroyed them! Bwahahah!”

Sorry, oh Humebug, but memory is not formed that way. Instead, one needs to ask, “Who was President during Vietnam? When the Depression came? When the South attacked the North?”

Does anyone not know the answers to those questions?

In the future, Brit, people will instead ask, “Who was President during that awful Iraq Fuckup. You know, the lying drunk who bankrupted the country? Of yeah; it was that dopey Bush asshole! The other Bush. Hey didn’t he fuck up that big hurricane too? Jesus, what sort of lobotomized slunkmeat CHUDS would've given that boil on the ass of Democracy the keys to Air Force One and then let him fly it into a mountain? Repeatedly? And then re-elect him?!”

I believe the answer on that Future History Test Question #17 will be, “Lobotomized slunkmeat CHUDS like Brit Hume.”

So you’ve got that going for you.

Christ Wallace would like to know, if Nancy Pelosi was willing to give up Pork, why did Hastert blow off the idea? Why did DeLay rant on that there would be NO spending cuts.

Kristol: Because they’re the incumbent majority party.

A dash of sneering, White Russian honesty from the Kristol-man.

Meanwhile Hume pipes and whistles like teapot full of boiling bile.

On This Week. --

Sen. Kay Bailey Hutchison. Sorry, not interested.

And we move on, because all the effing shows all started at the same moment this morning just to piss me off.


Over on Meet The Press – Ivor van Heerden, about whom I have nothing to say good or bad, because he slipped softly and silently away and then came Aaron Broussard...

...and man am I glad I stayed awake for this.

Russert had a typically Punkin’ Haided fusspot focus on the political pedigree of Mr. Broussard. Timmuh heroically took on the task of hectoring an emotionally-flattened man about what he said during a period of peak emotional stress, while he was weeping.

What a shitbag.

Timmuh set his fat chin and many jaunty jowls firmly North by Northwest and went in for the kill. In hot pursuit of the Terrible Truth behind Aaron Broussard’s previous, exhausted emotional outburst and begging for help.

What did you really mean by that, Mr. Broussard?

What was your real agenda?

Come on Mrs. Lincoln: what the fuck did you really think of the play! Quit ducking and answer me, for I am Punkin’ Haid!!!

Like a wheezy little bulldog racing after his usual Sunday Morning bus-full of assorted George Allens', Mary Matlins' and other political jizzpistols, Timmuh leaped ferociously on the nice man who had previously used the Russert Clown Show to beg for help for his dying city as it literally fell apart around him.

Russert, nipping at the timeline of the death of Mr. Broussard’s boss' mother as if it were the Pentagon Papers, and this was his Final Shot at doing serious journalism instead of ass-shining his Big Sunday Chair, reading other people’s quotes back to them and saying, “Well!?”

Trouble was, this wasn’t a Streetcar Named Santorum trying desperately to trundle away from his own well-document stupidity while en route between a turgid episode of rote talking-point-hammering and a fundraiser.

No this was a fully up-armored, no-fucking-around, Mississippi Delta Troop Carrier. Parked and packed -- not trying to get away from or with anything –- and Timmuh slammed right, smack into it.

And since Aaron Broussard has been busy actually saving lives and trying to salvage his community instead of running his own comments back and forth like Oliver Stone jerking off to the Zapruder Film, Mr. Broussard had never actually seen his own videotape from that fateful Sunday.

And as Timmuh, sandbagging him like he was one of the cheap, political hacks that Russert cultivates and feeds off of -- as if he were waving nekkid pictures in the face of an alderman, shouting “J’accuse!” -- that nice man began to cry again.

Did I mention what a complete shitbag Russert is?

Of course the problem with coming on like on like Joe McCarthy after a fifth of JTS Brown is that Punkin’ Haid obviously never actually expected Aaron Broussard to punch back. So he leaned waaaaay out over his skis just to act like a complete prick.

But after he composed himself, Mr. Broussard popped off the ropes like Ali in the eight round in Zaire.

My rough transcription of just a LITTLE of what he said: (Memory abetted by on that first quote because I just up and took from your favorite videoblogger and mine. Go visit the nice gentlemen at Crooks and Liars for the whole thing):

"

Listen, sir, somebody wants to nitpick a man's tragic loss of a mother because she was abandoned in a nursing home? Are you kidding? What kind of sick mind, what kind of black-hearted people want to nitpick a man's mother's death? They just buried Eva last week. I was there at the wake. Are you kidding me? That wasn't a box of Cheerios they buried last week."

“She was the epitome of abandonment. “

“Are you kidding me?”

“Who are these people? What sort of sick agendas are people running here?”

Timmuh looked like he had just bitten into a sack of razor-sharp nickels expecting it to be a nice slice of rhubarb pie. And yet he kept licking the business end of the same taser: trying to back Broussard into saying that he was only blaming Bush and FEMA and letting local assholes off the hook.

Aaron Broussard was having none of it. He wants everyone who was responsible for this strung up. City, state, federal. The owners of the nursing home. All of them – regardless of party or position – swinging from the trees.

Eloquent as hell, he came down on the Puffy Fatuous One like a Bayou George Galloway and after he disassembled Russert’s straw men he pointed out the fact he had been a little fucking occupied lately, and wondered loudly about the kind of people who were busying themselves trying the play “Chinese Fire and Boat Drill” with the blame for the death of NOLA.

“Are you drinking your coffee?” he asked. “Are you at a place where toilets flush and with running water?”

Wow, wow and wow. Russert’s vast, flabby ass must tip the scale at damned near a metric ton these days, and Broussard deftly handed it to him, whole and in all its flaccid glory.

Wow.

Then came the NYT Op-Ed Page kick line. One cannot help but wonder if this has anything to do with the marketing geniuses at the Times figuring our another way to further alienate their readers, while at the same time making them look just plain stupid.

All I can say is, off camera, reflected off of David Brooks’ glasses, if you look very carefully, you can almost see the Times’ V. P. and Chief Financial Officer -- Liam J. Carlos -- mouthing, “Sell it bitches!””

Dowd whams Bush with a honey smile. Ouchy. Very very Ouchy. If Bush’s nerve-endings and conscience had not already been cauterized by a hollow, boozy, wastrel’s life, what MoDo said would probably have stung like a sonofaBush.

And yikes, Tom Friedman actually correctly identifies the problems. All the blindingly obvious problems, to be sure, but it’s a start. That 9/11 just froze all opposition (he doesn’t mention that this included him). There was massive projection – surely you want your leader to be masterful and decisive so you lard that on the chicken-wire frame of George Bush out of whole cloth (he again conspicuously omits mentioning that he is talking about himself) – and the Bush administration used the opening like gangrene uses a flesh wound.

The press and the opposition became respectful and deferential because rallying around the leader is what one does during a tragedy.

And the Bush Administration pimped out our grief like the soulless fucks we all knew they always were. Our failure was a lack of imagination: that many of us who know better still never dreamed that a President of the United States, whatever his many, many, many failing and corruptions, couldn’t really be this despicable. This contemptible. This low.

That while we were bleeding and broken, we could surely turn our backs on the Republicans – whatever our differences – because surely NO ONE would be vile enough to knife us in the kidneys while we were kneeling by the fresh graves of our loved ones.

How wrong we were: the GOP is just exactly that vile.

Timmuh Asks – But what about the Democrats? Why aren’t they blahblahblah.

Brooks – The haters are winning. The ones who think that the problem with the country is that we don’t hate Bush enough. I don’t know what the Dems stand for on Iraq, on spending...

There are a few good points in there somewhere, but right this minute that doesn't interest me. What interests me is...

Problem One BoBo: You fuckers run the government now, from stem to stern, and you worked really, really hard -- evenings and weekends -- to steal/extort/jimmy/terrorize yourself to the very pinnacle of power you now enjoy. So why is it now that you run the Candy Store – and are looting it at a pace that would make a Visigoth say, “Uh, dude,

maybe

you wanna save something for later?” – whenever you hit a patch of choppy water that you brought entirely on yourselves, one of the first things that comes sniveling out of you pie-holes is, “Well the Democrats...”, “Well the Liberals...”, “Well Clinton...”.

Well President Cuckoobanana-Daiquiri has been running the country into the ground now for half a decade, and you funny little monkeys have owned Congress for longer than that. You have everything you wanted, so why are you such craven little bitches when it comes to stepping up and taking charge?

Oh, yeah, I forgot; you’re Republicans. You don’t want to actually govern a Democracy; you want to rule a theocracy by decree and have the bad message bringers shot as heretics.

Problem Two: Maybe it’s just me getting dotty, but the Dems I remember did not support this war. The Dems I remember were very clear about exactly what they were doing and why. They had no stomach for invading Iraq whatsoever. As loyal but unbelievable gullible and pussified politicians, the Dems I remember wanted to deal Bush every card he asked for when he went to negotiate regarding Iraq. Putting that arrow in Bush’s quiver was supposed to be a show of solidarity; that we were serious people and would tolerate no nonsense.

With the wounds of our nation still fresh, Bush came to us and said that to keep us from dying, he must have a latitude to act that included war, but he would act only if it turned out to be absolutely necessary.

The Dems I remember very reluctantly agreed to give him that range of motion, on the condition that he only act if there were no other alternative, that the threat was imminent, and that Bush had a comprehensive strategy for winning any war, securing any peace and getting the hell out of there as soon as humanly possible.

Not surprisingly, Republicans that talk about, “Well, Democrats supported the war too...” always want to skip over that part. The part where Bush swears on the lives of our children that he will behave in the most cautious, conscientious and gravely responsible manner possible...

...right up until the Dems give him the cars keys.

Then he blows off every expert, flips off the UN, and roars drunk and reckless into downtown Baghdad. Irresponsibly, stupidly, thoughtlessly with not near enough troops to secure the peace that he promised, and with no sign of the exit strategy he promised beyond some opium-addled PNAC fantasies about American Liberators, and cake-walks and being greeted with flowers and kisses.

And now, after Downing Street, it’s evident that he wasn’t just lying about 70 or 80 percent of the pre-war kabuki...but 100%. Bush had this war wired up and ready to go since the day Fat Tony Scalia anointed him President: he was just looking for a bag man.

So now that this is all public knowledge, all the GOP have is the charge that, “Democrats supported the war too.”

Think about that for a minute.

Think about what that statement means in the context of what we now all know?

That the Republicans final “rebuttal” comes down to this: If Dems were stupid and foolish enough to actually take George Bush at his word, and believe for one minute that he wasn’t a traitorous, lying sack of shit, that’s their own damned fault. If they were actually sucker enough to try to put Country ahead of Party, and believe that the Bush Crime Family wouldn’t knife them in the back the first chance they got, well ha ha fucking ha!

Joke’s on you!

Well on this one point, I will agree with the implication of what BoBo and the rest of the Bush War Apologists are saying, even though the don’t have to balls to come right our and move their inferences explicitly into the foreground. And I for one will never mistake a Republican for anything other than a lying traitor ever again, so thanks for the head’s up guys!

Dowd – Some stuff about Hillary, which was well taken (despite what I just said.) MoDo says that Katrina and Iraq are shown on a split screen. Exactly the same problems with exactly same people. Katrina and Iraq showed that these people have ALWAYS been incompetent. Not enough troops committed to solve the problem. No bid contracts to Halliburton. Experts who warned you were blown off. Vital jobs at the top given to inept Bush Loyalists.

Brooks – Sometimes I think that he [Bush] is the Manchurian Candidate. Built specifically to discredit the ideas I believe in.

No BoBo -- Bush is the personification of the ideas you believe in. It's your ideology that sucks ass, and not just the empty suit it came wrapped in.

Dowd - Being a good third or fourth quarter player is NOT good enough for people that don’t have Daddy’s money to bail them out.

Dowd – Bush is running around like a Today Show weatherman. He’s running around looking for a photo-op.

MoDo, damn our differences! I must have you!

Brooks says he doesn’t believe in tax cuts during warfare, but he lays out the tired mantra of cut-n’-grow that the GOP uses to explain why clear-cutting taxes for billionaires who already have more than enough money to pour into any project or business they choose is good.

Friedman calls him out. The Chinese own our balls, and not in a happy fun way. They are fast approaching a trillion-dollar vice grip on our wizened beanbags thanks entirely to George W. Bush and the GOP. And in lieu of an actual plan, Republicans just keep repeating that, “It’ll all be fine.”

Until, of course, the bottom falls out.

That, in the end, will be the legacy of the Bush Administration. Over and over and over again, the Dry-drunk-in-Chief and the GOP say, “Trust us. We know what we’re doing.” with absolutely no record or justification in reality to back that claim up, right up until the car goes off the cliff.

Then, like all abusers and alcoholics do, they admonishes us all not to “look backwards”. Funny how drunks, junkies, wife-beaters and George W. Bush all have that trait in common: they are all violently allergic to looking behind them, and all for exactly the same reasons.

Then Bush jumps behind the wheel of another car, still bedewed with the blood of the victims of their last failure.

Then the Dry-drunk-in-Chief and the GOP again say, “Trust us. We know what we’re doing”...right up until the car goes...

And that’s when I passed out in my Count Chocula.

Serves me right for eating it with the cheap Scotch.