Cork, sandbags, prayer and the invisible dartboard

I am anticipating the announcement of Osama Bin Laden’s death, expecting it to be the biggest news story of the day as I wake up every morning. Bombing campaigns near the Durand Line, an arbitrary border line separating Afghanistan and Pakistan imposed in 1893 by the British, are in my opinion the potential key needed to unlock the “October Surprise” treasure chest to see once and for all whether there’s anything left inside. Confirming Osama’s death would be impossible, but a mere glimmer of hope and some battle-tested propagandists being told to believe it,would be enough to transform the final 72 hours of campaigning into a one-topic nightmare for Democrats in close races. Our national press would not have the time or the cahones to do the right thing, and as long as the story could hold past election day, the truth behind it wouldn’t even matter. It would end up in the pile along with memos from Downing Street, the NIE on Iraq’s impact on global terrorism and any piece of consensus science dealing with stem cell research or climate change.

Because as it looks right now, the voting machines are all that’s left between tranquility and the imminent skull fucking about to take place once Democrats gain the power to issue suponeas up and down the President’s org chart. Foolish isn’t even a strong enough word to describe the decisions being made at the White House these past couple weeks, with the man campaigning across the country for candidates who cannot be seen with him, some “we do not torture” oldies and the bungled discarding of “Stay the Course” thrown in for good measure. The wheels are already flat, but he intends to put the pedal to the metal regardless, like a car being chased on the highway in an episode of Cops, sparks flying all over the place as metal grinds on pavement every second the suspect remains ignorant of his own futility, perhaps too stoned or hopped up on speed to give a shit…just enjoying the buzz and feeling relevant and powerfull for as long as it lasts. Sometimes in these situations the brain becomes so addled and delusional that it seems like nothing can stop it, and with reality being what it is today, that’s certainly the case here.

Mark Foley and Bob Ney going out like they did, Dennis Hassert playing out the Christopher Guest meets Pink Floyd’s ‘Animals’ role of a Pig to perfection, and now we’ve got even more shame in the form of George Allen’s campaign turning violent to keep a constituent from asking a couple questions, Congressman Jim Gibbons running for Governor of Nevada being accused of drunken sexual assault (wait for it…”alcoholism yada yada yada I love Jesus”), Congressman John Sweeney knocking around his wife last December, Rush Limbaugh’s embarassingly ugly attack on Michael J. Fox, the consistent contradicting of what Bush himself says concerning torture and stay the course by Cheney and Rumsfeld, complete with some scattered jerky bullshit about how the right thing to do now is to preemptively strike Iran and Korea, courtesy of Bill Kristol (the Drew Bledsoe of geopolitical punditry) and Brit Hume…”it’s hard work”.

Amen to that! And watch out for cluster bombs if you’re going to be traveling through the Pashtun and Baluch regions around the Pakistan/Afghanistan border in the next few days. Don’t forget to bring along a first aid kit, plenty of clean underwear, at least ten pints of blood in a cooler and of course your pre-paid legal card in case someone tries to steer you towards Guantanamo along the way.