So, with Karl "I'm-the-President's-Brain" Rove leaving the White House at the end of the month (can I get a "Hallelujah!" for that, please?), I suppose this could officially make George W. "I'm-the-Decider" Bush a lame (ass) duck.
It's as if a breath of fresh air blew into Washington yesterday, leaving behind blue skies and a feeling of hope again. Granted, unless the Dems win in '08, the hope may be short-lived. But hope, nonetheless, has descended on this sultry, swampy, sinister, cynical, southern town.
Of course, Bush II only has 17 months to tidy up his worldwide mess and improve his legacy. I'm not holding my breath, though. And by the way--is it possible that years from now, historians will look back and label the period from Sept. 11, 2001 to whenever-it-is-we-get-out-of-Iraq as "World War III"? It's not all that far-fetched, you know.
To steal a phrase from Eugene Robinson in today's Washington Post, "Hey Karl, don't let the door hit you where the dog should have bit you!"
Yep. It's a happy day in Washington. As fellow blogger Cele pointed out in a comment elsewhere, Texas is slowing getting back its village idiots. Somewhere in Crawford the breezes are blowing, the tumbleweed are tumbling, and if you hold George's head up to your ear, you can hear the sound of...
Photo copyright: Thomas Hawks' Digital Connection