A ritual that I follow every morning is to open up my Hotmail account. Invariably when I sign out of the account I am dutifully forwarded to the MSN homepage.
This page for the last year or so has been filled with casualty lists from the war in Iraq.
The average joe that I am, I do my best to ignore the article lists and go straight to the article which lists Jessica Simpson’s transplants or Brad Pitt’s body odor or how Julia Roberts finally stopped becoming the runaway bride .
Anyway coming back to the topic, as to why I say’yes’ to the war in Iraq is because I am tearful everytime I need to fill my car. Also because if I raise a question there is a very good chance that I will be sent to Gitmo under the provision of the Patriot Act for vaguely looking Arab and for conspiring against the American people. I am ready to put on my dunce cap and watch Fox news to show how patriotic I am.
There was never a doubt about the existence of Weapons of Mass Destruction in Iraq. Sean Hannity convinced me of the truthfulness of the documents and Rush Limbaugh made up my mind about the only good Arab being a dead arab. Can’t remember if he was high on Oxycontin at that time.
Also the leggy blonde from Fox news Monica Crowley smiled her million watt smile and analysed as to why Iraq must be invaded to make the Middle East democratic. Don’t remember what exactly she said cause most male viewers of my age watch her show for only one reason and like that chick in’When Harry met Sally’ all I remember is saying’Yes, yes, yes’.
So here I am utterly convinced by the veracity of their statements and disappointed by how the peaceniks could produce only Janeane Garofalo to say no to the war. Maybe if they brought on atleast Shania Twain, some of the cowboys could be swayed.
It is very tough to argue against a President who says ’everything I do, I do for you’, like that soppy Bryan Adams song. I, as an average joe, can identify with him as my kind of guy, especially since he seems to make the same grammatical errors that I make. The only difference being he’s a Harvard grad and I am a high school dropout. Also I don’t really care about a country which I can neither find on a map nor spell.
With my hand on my heart, I sing’Amazing Grace’, even though the flavor of the season seems to be’Redneck Woman’.I ride into the glorious Texas sunset to join my compadres who are leaving on the B-52 transport to’blood replace’ the soldiers who have laid down their lives for a’glorious cause’.
Maybe they will leave some of the guys at Abu Ghraib for me. Nothing in the Geneva convention says that I can’t tie a leash around the neck of that gorgeous Arab chick and become famous. Nice story to tell around the campfire with beer and buddies.
So I sail with hope in my heart and the President’s picture in my wallet. His grim visage reminds me of John Wayne and his unwavering stand on the ideal that oil is worth blood brings tears to my eyes. I can’t help wondering how much joy I will bring to those suburban soccer moms with their big SUVs when they can finally spend the extra bucks they save on that new hairdo.
I have willed my vote in 2004 to President Bush in case I don’t return from Iraq. My lawyer Bubba will execute my will and Bubba as a caution, no screwups like last time. Make sure that the ballot paper reads Bush.
Finally why do I say yes, because like Mr. L’Amour I want to write a book on’How the Middle East was won’ and become rich.