Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Draft Karl Rove's Son

Yeah, like that'll happen. When we're dodging gravitationally induced descending aviating porcine excreta. Bill Robinson lays out the case for all supporters of the present imperialistic pipe dream.

Our president calls Karl Rove his "architect." The powers that be genuflect to him in a way unprecedented. But if this genius has had anything to do with the defining act of the Bush II administration, surely he is, as they say, "in it... to win it." Well I say, if you wanna surge baby, put your money where your mouth is.

Send your son.

Shouldn't there be some gesture of authenticity in this latest round of bloody cheerleading? Where's the conviction that this escalation-- I mean, "surge"-- can triumph? I know, I know, we can't send the Bush twins, they're drunk. And Condi has no offspring to offer up. She's married to her, um, job. But Karl Rove, the man all too happy to take credit for the Decider-in-Chief, has the perfect candidate to show us what he really believes in. Why not send Andrew? He's not exactly curing cancer. Last I heard, he was volunteering for the Governor of Texas. And we all know where that can lead.

Maybe Karl doesn't want to risk losing another family member. It's understandable. His mother killed herself, his gay father left the family. Maybe he wants Andrew to follow his own example: In December 1969, Karl's number was drawn for the Vietnam War draft. Yet, on February 17, 1970, he was deferred because he enrolled at the University of Utah. Even though he quickly withdrew from classes, he maintained the deferment until Dec. 14, 1971. Maybe it all runs in the family.

Still, one can't help but wonder... how can Karl Rove deny his son the chance to march in the victory parade-- after the surge-- when the troops return triumphant? That, truly, will be an unbelievable day.

Oh, Bill - how quaint. The scions of the rich and politically influential are groomed from birth to ascend to positions where they can send the less fortunate off to die so they can maintain their grip on power and wealth. Go themselves? Heavens, no! They are the chosen. By themselves. That's what the peasants are for.

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