Question:
Wars, hurricanes and death -- it's all part of 'God's' master plan
Mark Morford
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Scene: White House, night, not long ago. President Bush present in his most favoritest guns 'n' bunnies pj's. Laura asleep, knocked out by a combination of too much Good Housekeeping and excessive hairspray fumes. Suddenly, a burst of black smoke. A deep, resonant voice speaks:
Psst! George! God here, taking a break from supervising the well-being of 8 billion troubled souls along with infinite galaxies of unimaginable vastness to speak with you directly one more time because, well, you're special, aren't you, George? Yes, you are! Yes, you are! OK, stop giggling. I have more commands. Get off the damn hobbyhorse, George, and get a pen and a notepad. No, not a crayon. I don't care if blue is your favori -- George! Get a pen! OK? Good. Here we go:
As you know, I'm not quite what everyone thinks. I am not all benevolence and love and light. In fact, I have a downright dark side, mean and nasty and cunning, and I want you, George, to continue to be my special right-hand man. My special little guy. In fact, you shall help enact my wrath, Dubya. Doesn't that sound fun?
There are three things I love, George: war, revenge and suffering. Oh, and smiting the heathens. OK, four things. And kickboxing. Five things. There are five things I love, Dubya. You with me? And you and your demon monkeys are enacting the first four admirably, George. Don't be shy, go ahead and tell those Palestinian officials you were commanded by God to restore peace in the Middle East by bombing nearly defenseless, pip-squeak Iraq and Afghanistan to smithereens. They love that stuff.
But let's put the delicious war stuff aside for a moment. I need to round out my oeuvre. Here's the plan: I'm gonna wreak some major havoc on one of your poorest, most racially mixed, underfunded cities by hurling a huge hurricane at them, flooding the place and killing hundreds of poor people you don't even know exist because you thought they all lived somewhere in Africa. It's all right, the biggest city, New Orleans, will be full of Kerry-loving Democrats. Yeah, I thought you'd like that.
Here's where you come in, George: When those rains come, I want you to sit back for a few days, stay in the hammock in Crawford, have a lemonade, OK? Let those dead bodies float around New Orleans like it was some remote village in Nigeria. Then look completely baffled when everyone blames you for your administration's miserable response.
You'll take some flak for it, but did I ever say serving me would be easy? Besides, people need to know I'm still here, still angry, getting angrier. Don't worry, I'll make it up to you. How does eternal damnati -- er, blessed sainthood sound? Good.
OK, moving on. I have a secret, George. Here it is: I hate this me-forsaken planet. All this so-called beauty, nature and the magic of science and the poetry of cells -- you know what Earth is to me? High maintenance, that's what. A massive pain in my hallowed butt. Growing all that food, blowing the wind, churning the oceans -- it's exhausting. Plus my energy bills are skyrocketing. Heating India and Turkey cost me $87 trillion last month alone. What am I, made of money?
Well, yes, of course I am. But no matter. I'm sick of it.
Here's the plan, George: I want you to despoil, 'K? Rivers and air and lakes, wildlife preserves and pristine forests and salmon runs and bird sanctuaries. Screw 'em, Dubya. Screw 'em all. I want you to be the worst environmental president in 50 years, OK? Hell, make it 100. I want you to roll back more environmental protections and do more damage to the place in eight months than Ronnie Reagan did in eight years. Rape the joint clean. Sell it all off to your cronies in big industry and help me hasten Armageddon. Deal? Here's the truth, Dubya: Earth's a giant liver-flavored Kong toy, and you're a rabid terrier.
Now, go get it, boy!
Damn kids these days. Who needs so many? Why not send tens of thousands of them off to fight your two brutal, unwinnable wars? Why not Vietnam 2.0? Because if there's one thing I love more than useless war, George, it's thousands of mutilated soldiers coming home in body bags, all draped in the pretty American flag. Twenty-one gun salute! For God and country! Righteous.
Speaking of uppity kids, I know my own brat Jesus came down here once and mumbled some flower-child gibberish about turning the other cheek and not killing anyone and doing unto others as you would have done unto you and yadda yadda yadda. That's what happens when you give the kids the car keys and an unsupervised weekend, am I right? It's all complete bubkes, but I don't have to tell you that, now do I?
So, here's what I want you to do, George. I want your demoralized military zhlubs to capture as many swarthy types as possible, whenever they raid an Iraqi home or school or Afghan farm, and throw them all straight into a military prison and let 'em rot and wait for months, years for a fair hearing. Got it?
Strip them naked! Stick electrodes on their genitals! Smear blood on their faces! Beat 'em senseless! I don't care if they're innocent. I sayeth unto you, innocence is overrated. Rape the boys, too. Then cover it all up and blame it all on a poor, dim-witted female soldier from Kentucky and shove her into prison for three years while all the honchos who sanctioned the torture (hi, Rummy!) merely smirk and walk away. God sayeth unto you all, rock on!
I know, everyone says I'm made of pure love. Ha. Truth is, I'm made of aluminum chloride and coal cinders and something I'm not quite sure what, but I think might be MSG. Oh yeah, and money. Fifties, mostly.
I gotta run, George. But rest assured, I'll be back soon, with more ideas. But there's one more thing you need to know, one thing you absolutely cannot forget. Remember our Super Triple Secret, George? Pinky swear? Spit handshake? Atta boy.
Here it is: We both know who I really am, don't we? I know you secretly admire my scaly red flesh, my shining black eyes, these horns, the breath worse than Rove's after his morning meal of seared panda hearts. Of course you know the real God is more than a little disgusted by you and your administration, right?
Well, screw her. Typical woman, all benevolent and chthonic and compassionate. We know who's really in charge of your nasty administration, don't we, Dubya? Damned right. And I mean that literally. Keep your hands in the fire, if you know what I mean. Now c'mere and give me a kiss. Sorry about charring the carpet.
Sweet dreams.
Mark Morford's column appears Wednesdays and Fridays on SFGate.com and in Datebook. E-mail him at mmorford@sfgate.com.
Answer:
this is probably the most tasteless and humourless thing I've ever read on the forum. Way to go, congrats.
Don't be shy, go ahead and tell those Palestinian officials you were commanded by God to restore peace in the Middle East by bombing nearly defenseless, pip-squeak Iraq and Afghanistan to smithereens. They love that stuff.
Damn kids these days. Who needs so many? Why not send tens of thousands of them off to fight your two brutal, unwinnable wars? Why not Vietnam 2.0? Because if there's one thing I love more than useless war, George, it's thousands of mutilated soldiers coming home in body bags, all draped in the pretty American flag. Twenty-one gun salute! For God and country! Righteous.
So, here's what I want you to do, George. I want your demoralized military zhlubs to capture as many swarthy types as possible, whenever they raid an Iraqi home or school or Afghan farm, and throw them all straight into a military prison and let 'em rot and wait for months, years for a fair hearing. Got it?
Strip them naked! Stick electrodes on their genitals! Smear blood on their faces! Beat 'em senseless! I don't care if they're innocent. I sayeth unto you, innocence is overrated. Rape the boys, too. Then cover it all up and blame it all on a poor, dim-witted female soldier from Kentucky and shove her into prison for three years while all the honchos who sanctioned the torture (hi, Rummy!) merely smirk and walk away. God sayeth unto you all, rock on!
That guy needs to be taken out back and beaten up/mugged by saying such things. Honestly, 21 gun salute! For God and Country! Righteous. That's a grave very grave insult to all those who served and or are serving and making a mockery at the expense of their life and sacrifice.
I've never been so ashamed of being a soompi-member until reading this topic. Sure you didn't write it, you may not be advocating it, but if you aren't, why post it in barebones? I'm going to get every military person I know to read this, and when they get outraged, give the website and email address of that guy.
Answer:
wow, how much extreme simplistic rhetoric can be packed into one column? each point could have taken up one column all by itself, but maybe it would be too much for the author to actually support each point
do I need to amend the rules about editorials and commentaries passing a certain level of intellectual maturity?
Answer:
how bout yes. some ppl say it's the end of thw world...the apocolypsis is comming! im not sure though...but it IS scary...sheesh...
Answer:
What the heck is this heathenistic, pharisee sinner thing talking about?!! its not even funnyyy....O_O
hahah (IMG:style_emoticons/default/tongue.gif)
Answer:
It's not God' master plan, or the apocalypse, it's our fault. we pollute the earth too darn much, and we're screwing up the environment. i'm not surprised that we're getting so many natural disasters.
war, well, that's all just bushie's plan.
perhaps this is all part of dismal science, as they say. maybe it's just to regulate population. it makes sense, the more people, the more screwed up the planet gets.
Answer:
Gave me a chuckle, but eh.
Answer:
double yoo
tee
eff
Answer:
I've never been so ashamed of being a soompi-member until reading this topic. Sure you didn't write it, you may not be advocating it, but if you aren't, why post it in barebones? I'm going to get every military person I know to read this, and when they get outraged, give the website and email address of that guy.
why should i add a disclaimer to the article? my opinion shouldn't mean that much to you on this. read it and form your own judgements.
if you're so upset about the article, then i hope you actually do something about it like you say you will. nothing will come out of just whining and complaining on an internet forum. be active socio-politically if something bothers you. as the saying goes, fight for it or shutup.
Answer:
wow, how much extreme simplistic rhetoric can be packed into one column? each point could have taken up one column all by itself, but maybe it would be too much for the author to actually support each point
do I need to amend the rules about editorials and commentaries passing a certain level of intellectual maturity?
Please do so.. dafleur always posts stupid things like that (IMG:style_emoticons/default/sad.gif)
Answer:
it's true isnt it?
Answer:
Wow...it was a weeny teeny tiny eensy itty bitty bit funny at first, then it gets stupid reaaaaaaaaal fast.
I feel like my IQ has been cut down 1/3 after raegind hist atirlce.....
Answer:
Please do so.. dafleur always posts stupid things like that (IMG:style_emoticons/default/sad.gif)
seconded
Answer:
wut the effer...
