The re-emergence of Iraq Study Group voices such as Baker, Gates and Alan Simpson—all longtime friends of Bush Senior—is not unlike the entrance of Fortinbras at the conclusion of "Hamlet." These are 41's men, and the removal of Rumsfeld—an ancient rival of Bush Senior's from the Ford days—is a move toward the broad middle. The apparent triumph of pragmatism over ideology on Iraq was welcome news, at least to the public. In the new NEWSWEEK Poll, 67 percent favor Bush Senior's internationalist approach to foreign policy over his son's more unilateral course.
~ Fortinbras: “Where is this sight?”
ThePoetryMan: This; thy group of men, hungry to achieve legacies, Stands no chance of correcting Iraq or a son’s failings, But hell! We must have them stand in as illusion!
Horatio: “What is it ye would see? If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.”
TPM: Standing there! As freshly whipped dogs; hopeful, pleading, They bark and huff pretending they’re not burying the truth, But blast it! They must have us witness their delusions!
Fortinbras: “This quarry cries on havoc. –Oh proud death! What feast is toward thine eternal cell, That thou has so many princes at a shot So bloodily has struck?”
TPM: Their combined heads have before mucked up the state, Delivering feet dripped in the blood of forging empire, They damn well know it is an oil-slicked pipe dream!
Fortinbras: …Let us haste to hear it, And call the noblest to the audience, For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune...
TPM: Why are these two-bit cons coming to the rescue at this instant? Why not long before the stench of death reared its cloddy head? They’re two bit swindlers because they get away with murder!
Fortinbras: I have some rights of memory in this kingdom, Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me.
TPM: We’re not so starved that they might force-feed us daydreams, Nor are we so blind to ignore the convenient roster set to this task. No! Goddamnit! Their moral compasses have been botched!
Horatio: Of that I shall have also cause to speak, And from those mouths whose voice will draw no more.
TPM: They’ll put a Band-Aid on the country’s cavernous wound. They need return to their CEO thrones and ranches and lies! Damn them! They know why they’ve reared their bloody skulls!
Horatio: But let this same be presently perform’d Even while men’s minds are wild, lest more mischance, On plots and errors, happen.
TPM: It’ll take a hell of a lot more brilliance than exists in the group! They will try and sell us the sky for a measly barrel of oil! To hell with them; greased wheels set to come off all around!
Fortinbras: Let four captains Bear Iraq, like a soldier, to the stage; For she was likely, had she been put on, To have prov’d most royally: and for her passage, The soldiers’ music and the rites of war, Speak loudly for her.
TPM: Death’s stench is everywhere and now they come to rescue A world growing lightheaded from such enormous loss of blood! End their Goddamned trickery that’s set to come `round again!
Fortinbras: Take up the bodies: -such a sight as this Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss.
Fortinbras:
“Where is this sight?”
ThePoetryMan:
This; thy group of men, hungry to achieve legacies,
Stands no chance of correcting Iraq or a son’s failings,
But hell! We must have them stand in as illusion!
Horatio:
“What is it ye would see?
If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.”
TPM:
Standing there! As freshly whipped dogs; hopeful, pleading,
They bark and huff pretending they’re not burying the truth,
But blast it! They must have us witness their delusions!
Fortinbras:
“This quarry cries on havoc. –Oh proud death!
What feast is toward thine eternal cell,
That thou has so many princes at a shot
So bloodily has struck?”
TPM:
Their combined heads have before mucked up the state,
Delivering feet dripped in the blood of forging empire,
They damn well know it is an oil-slicked pipe dream!
Fortinbras:
…Let us haste to hear it,
And call the noblest to the audience,
For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune...
TPM:
Why are these two-bit cons coming to the rescue at this instant?
Why not long before the stench of death reared its cloddy head?
They’re two bit swindlers because they get away with murder!
Fortinbras:
I have some rights of memory in this kingdom,
Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me.
TPM:
We’re not so starved that they might force-feed us daydreams,
Nor are we so blind to ignore the convenient roster set to this task.
No! Goddamnit! Their moral compasses have been botched!
Horatio:
Of that I shall have also cause to speak,
And from those mouths whose voice will draw no more.
TPM:
They’ll put a Band-Aid on the country’s cavernous wound.
They need return to their CEO thrones and ranches and lies!
Damn them! They know why they’ve reared their bloody skulls!
Horatio: But let this same be presently perform’d
Even while men’s minds are wild, lest more mischance,
On plots and errors, happen.
TPM:
It’ll take a hell of a lot more brilliance than exists in the group!
They will try and sell us the sky for a measly barrel of oil!
To hell with them; greased wheels set to come off all around!
Fortinbras:
Let four captains
Bear Iraq, like a soldier, to the stage;
For she was likely, had she been put on,
To have prov’d most royally: and for her passage,
The soldiers’ music and the rites of war,
Speak loudly for her.
TPM:
Death’s stench is everywhere and now they come to rescue
A world growing lightheaded from such enormous loss of blood!
End their Goddamned trickery that’s set to come `round again!
Fortinbras:
Take up the bodies: -such a sight as this
Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss.
Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman
Now It's Iraq for Mr. Fix-It of the G.O.P.
Hamlet - Act 5 Scene 2