Elwood Bush: It's 106 miles to Chicago, we've got a full
tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark and we're
wearing sunglasses!
Jake Blair: Hit it!
Elwood Bush: They're not gonna catch us! We're on a mission
from God!
It
was bizarre at first; even amusing in a hideous little way. When
George "Elwood" Bush and Tony "Jake" Blair scrambled up on the
international stage shortly after 9-11 and broke into their
frenzied Blues Brothers routine, I fully expected the US Congress,
the UK Parliament and citizens on both sides of the Atlantic to
snort in derision and get up and walk out of the theater. I mean,
c'mon...
"Saddam's comin' after us! He's a
grave and gathering danger -- a horror like we've never known
before!" Elwood Bush yelled, while gandy-dancing across the stage.
"Saddam's the evilest evildoer in the world. He's got smokin' guns
'n mushroom clouds 'n torture chambers 'n rape rooms 'n he hates
our freedom! He has stacks and piles of WMD! They're scattered all
over the desert -- Colin's got pictures of 'em. They --"
"--They'll be here in 45 minutes if we don't attack!" Jake Blair
screeched, his knees hitting his chin. "Stand back! Stand back!"
he cried, shaking a sheaf of papers at the audience. "I have a
dossier -- and I'm not afraid to use it!"
"Yes! Yes!! Fuck Saddam! We're takin' him out! Remember September
the 11th!" Bush roared before leaping high in the air, making a
perfect "split" landing then, with one hand on the floor,
skittered around in circles, smirking at the cheering mob.
"JESUS H. TAP-DANCING CHRIST!!!" Blair screamed as he rolled his
eyes and moon-walked around the twirling Bush -- "I have seen The
Light!! Let's do it!"
And so they did it. Spurred by hyper-imagination and carried aloft
on the shoulders of a corporate media war machine, they thundered
off on their great adventure -- a two-headed, modern-day Orson
Welles -- whipping up mass psychological terror by relentlessly
shrieking that a new, more horrible "War of the Worlds" is upon
us. They did it by trashing legislative bodies, trampling legions
of anti-war protesters, and twisting facts to fit a tangle of
lies.
They did it because fear foments chaos and disorder. People either
streaming into the streets in terror or cowering under their beds
in anticipation of impending disaster are easily manipulated into
a dysfunctional public mass which accepts death and destruction as
the new norm. As Hermann Goering said, it is a simple matter to
control the people in any country. "All you have to do is tell
them they are being attacked, and denounce the peacemakers for
lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger..."
Who knows what the truth is anymore? Each time the truth threatens
to emerge, the dancing duo whomps it back into the shadows with a
false-flag terror alert and, with the help of a treasonous media,
we soon forget what it was that "almost" penetrated our
consciousness. No truth has fought more valiantly to break free
nor sent Bush and Blair into more strenuous dancing spasms than
what actually happened on 9-11. We know the truth, but cannot, or
will not, wrap our minds around it lest we be forced to stare
aghast at ourselves in the mirror.
But the truth of that disastrous day will out, because anybody
with half sense and one eye who has seen video of the WTC
buildings imploding knows their miraculous freefall could be
nothing short of a controlled demolition. Truth is, controlled
demolitions all look alike -- if you've seen one of those suckers,
you've seen 'em all. That's the truth. Forget the bouncing
Bushball tale that jet fuel turned massive chunks of concrete to
powder and brought towering buildings to earth at the speed of
light, including one that wasn't even hit by an airplane.
The truth is out there in plain sight, and we must come to grips
with it or Bush is correct -- we're not gonna catch them. Bush
believes he is on a
genocidal mission from God, and Blair makes his political
decisions only after channeling
"The Light," and cleansing himself by journeying to Mexico's
fake Aztec pyramid, stripping down to swim trunks, gazing at
"phantom animals" in a stream before slathering melon, papaya and
mud over his body and emitting a
"primal scream of psychic rebirth."
What could be more terrifying than suddenly realizing these two
madmen, driven by arrogance, lust for power and insatiable greed
are waging war on anything that moves, including their own
citizens, in order to achieve the unachievable goal of seizing
control of the world and all its resources? One is a bloodthirsty
bully who would rather destroy the world rather than admit he's
wrong. The other, an ambitious fop -- in over his head -- has no
recourse but to cling to their "special relationship"*
and hope for the best.
The best they have to distract our attention from the truth and to
whip us back into submission -- one of the two options left on the
table -- is the false-flag terror weapon, which has evolved from
startling announcements of terrorists moving freely among us with
bombs in their shoes, to absurd calls for plastic sheets and duct
tape, to more deadly attacks wherein many innocents are maimed and
killed. To succeed, this option depends on the final one -- the
willingness of a dishonorable and treasonous media to roil the
bloody disinformation waters until truth is lost in chaos.
Later we will be asked -- will ask ourselves -- how two such
raging mad, desperately absurd fools managed to get away with such
carnage. The only possible answer is they did it -- because
they could. Because we allowed it. They cannot turn back
because they know, as do we, that invading Iraq was the mother of
all war crimes, and they are the terrorists who will be brought to
justice in the International Criminal Court.
The truth has them cornered and, unless they are stopped, they
will keep doing their ghoulish dance of death until the mushroom
cloud that so fascinates them covers planet Earth like an
umbrella. The skulls and bones of the innocent will continue to
pile up unless we shake free of the evil spell cast across this
land.
We can combat the two-pronged onslaught of Bush and Blair's War on
the World by waking up and paying attention to what they are
doing, by remembering the lies and deceit of the warmongers that
catapulted us into this bloody mess. We can stop them if we resist
as individuals -- a vast, outraged sea of individuals who are mad
as hell and flatly refuse to take any more. As Samuel Adams once
said, "It does not require a majority to prevail, but rather an
irate, tireless minority keen to set brush-fires in people's
minds."
And that's the truth.
* The Special Relationship
The bombs go off
The legs go off
The heads go off
The arms go off
The feet go off
The light goes out
The heads go off
The legs go off
The lust is up
The dead are dirt
The lights go out
The dead are dust
A man bows down before another man
And sucks his lust
Harold
Pinter
August 2004
Sheila Samples is an Oklahoma
writer and a former civilian US Army Public Information Officer.
She is a regular contributor for a variety of Internet sites.
Contact her at:
rsamples@sirinet.net. © 2005 Sheila Samples
Other Articles by
Sheila Samples
*
Bobcats in a Brave New World
*
Hey Harkavy!
* A
Horrid Reality
*
George Bush -- The Man With a SNAFU Plan
*
Suddenly This Summer...
*
The Revolution is NOW
*
Are the Good Times Really Over For Good?
*
The Fantastical World of Studley McMuffin
* A
Matter of Education
*
Who Will Save the Children?
*
John Bolton: The Wrong Man
* We
Are Very Good Drivers
*
They Were Young Once, and Fit
* A
Pornographic Celebration of Death
*
Super Duper George Bush
*
Three Women -- The Roads They Travel
*
Butt Prints in the Sand
* A
Kick in the Pants
* Oh
Lord, Ain't it Hard...
*
The Last Man to Concede
*
Bring Them Home . . . Sooner Rather Than Later
*
Best Way to "Support the Troops" is to Bring Them Home
*
“Mr. President” de la Mancha
*
Stinky and the Vulcans
*
Haunted Empire
*
The Last Battle
*
Pre-emptive Pie-Hole Policy Not an Option
*
Freedom to Fascism -- A Bumpy Ride
*
When the Fiends Cry "Kill"
*
Like Dogs in the Night
*
Blame the Terrorists Behind That Tree!
*
Open Letter to CNN
*
I Know You Are But What Am I?
*
It's the Questions Stupid!
*
Truth and Freedom, Slip-Sliding Away
*
Playing the CYA Game
*
My Master's House
*
If Royko Were Here . . . On Going Nowhere With the 9/11 Commission
* It
Takes a Nitwit