Yet another blast from the past

More stuff from old blog pages. But cool stuff, nonetheless. Holla!

A DRAMATIZATION FOR OUR VIEWING AUDIENCE AT HOME

George Bush, Jr., boy genius, stood proudly next to his latest amazing invention. He could barely contain himself, he was so excited!

“So, what’s all this then, Junior?” George Sr., one time All-American international espionage hero asked, beaming proudly at his brilliant son.

George Bush, Jr., whisked aside the drape covering his latest discovery with a showmanlike flourish! “Look, Dad!” the boy crowed proudly. “It’s my newest Model America!”

George Sr. bent over the table, staring in frank admiration at the intricate clockwork mechanism as it quietly purred away, gears and cogs and belts all churning smoothly together, a quietly prosperous hum suffusing his genius son’s lab-chamber. “Well, golly, son,” George Sr. exclaimed, “it’s a humdinger! What does it do?”

“It does everything, Pop!” George Jr. declared. “Look! Look at the domestic economic indices! Virtually no inflation! Stable prices! Jobs for every hard working man at high enough wages to allow every decent wife and mom to stay home and raise a family in the comfort and safety that God fearing working class Americans deserve! And low taxes too, because with those good, well paid jobs for everyone, there’s no need for wasteful social services like Welfare or Unemployment! And we won’t need any sort of health care plan, either…”

George Sr.’s eyes narrowed. “Damned socialized medicine!” he growled, his voice an authoritative bark.

“Yes sir, darned socialized medicine, we won’t need it!” George Jr. exulted. “Look at the GNP!” He waved to a bank of pistons pumping away smoothly and powerfully. “Everyone will have more than enough wages coming in to afford their own health care coverage!”

George Sr. tapped his pipe against his teeth thoughtfully. “But son,” he said, “you haven’t re-enabled that old Labor Union impulse engine, have you? Because while it does drive wages up, believe me, an organized work force is more trouble than it’s worth! And it cuts into corporate profits and management incentive bonuses – and without those, you don’t have an American Dream!”


“I knew you’d think that, Pop,” George Jr. allowed, “but no sir, if you check the circular file –“ Here the boy inventor kicked a metal wastecan beneath his workbench – “you’ll find that Labor Union impulse engine right where obsolete socialist ideas like that belong! No, there’s so much capital flowing through my Model America, we have high wage jobs for labor with no need for unionization, and plenty of money left over for management incentives! Plenty of profit! Why, there’s even more than enough to shift the entire tax burden to the shoulders of the working class where it belongs –“

“The heroic working class!” George Sr. said, eyes gleaming.

“Absolutely, Dad!” George Jr. agreed fervently. “And see?” He gestured to one entire section of obviously well lubricated, free spinning gearing. “That lets us put back in all the special loopholes in the tax code, to provide incentives for the wealthy tycoons and speculators that are so essential to the financial inspiration that keeps the stock market afloat!”

“Holy shit, son!” George Sr declared. “I mean, Great Scott! This is astonishing! But what in the world –“


“But that’s not all, Dad!” George Jr. said, waving his arms excitedly. “By golly, that’s not the half of it! Take a look at the foreign policy mechanisms!”

George Sr. narrowed his crafty eyes and fixed his gaze – the gaze of a seasoned Cold Warrior – on the section of gears and driving shafts his brilliant son was pointing out now. Then he blinked, his mouth falling open in astonishment!

“Great Leaping Laertes, son! That’s… that’s impossible!” The father’s eyes opened wide as he took it in. “Those compliance levels on the part of every other industrialized nation on the face of the Earth – how could that ever happen? Of course we know that America is always right, but you’d never get all those foreigners to agree!” George Sr. scowled suspiciously. “You’re not planning on using a military engine for this, are you? America has the finest military drivers in history but in a modern environment it’s not enough –“

“We only need the military at the start, dad,” George Jr. opined modestly, “just to give the whole thing its initial push start! And it’s a very minor investment – nothing a few companies of Special Forces can’t handle! In and out, easy as pie!”

“Well, by jingo, son, I have to say, it’s a good looking device!” George Sr said, whistling in admiration. “But I can’t imagine what your power source is. Some sort of strange X material? What could possibly run something as huge as this so smoothly? And for how long?”

“That’s just it, Dad,” George Jr said, growing serious. “We do need a big supply of the special power source this model requires. But as it turns out, one of your old enemies happens to be sitting on a huge stockpile of it! Enough to last forever! Or at least through my second and third and fourth terms, and then Li’l Jeb’s four terms, and by then the twins will be old enough --!”

George Jr took a deep breath and wiped his brow, visibly taking a grip on himself. “But never mind that right now, Dad, there’s enough there to last forever! And it’s my intention to take it away from that evil prick who is currently sitting on it, and put it to the service of freedom and democracy!”

George Sr. grew serious as well, his hawklike gaze hooded, his features brooding. “Good heavens, son, you can’t mean –“

George Jr. nodded grimly. “I sure do, Dad! It’s time America paid a call on the Butcher of Baghdad! The resources we need to maintain truth, justice and the American way – and to spread those values across the globe – are all right there! He’s standing in the way of freedom! He’s jeopardizing our entire way of life! And he can’t be allowed to continue!”

-- from George Bush Jr. and his Petroleum Powered Panacea, Boy’s Adventure Books, 2002