Dear George, Your Baghdad surge is a stroke of military genius. It will surely be the ejaculant of victory. The English poet John Donne foretold you when he wrote, “...therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.” Believe me, George, the bells will reverberate your name through out the eons, such is your infamy.
Greatness never errs, and you confirm your greatness every time you peer into the yawning jaws of defeat and see only victory. You inspire us with your grit, the grit that irritates and blurs your vision, allowing you to see what no other man can see.
Lead on; lead on! We who are the coalition of the stoned are sprawled in our gutters, cheering you on with our whiskey voices as tears pool in our red-rimmed eyes.
OPEN LETTERS TO GEORGE W. BUSH
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Your Baghdad surge is a stroke of military genius. It will surely be the ejaculant of victory. The English poet John Donne foretold you when he wrote, “...therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.” Believe me, George, the bells will reverberate your name through out the eons, such is your infamy.
Greatness never errs, and you confirm your greatness every time you peer into the yawning jaws of defeat and see only victory. You inspire us with your grit, the grit that irritates and blurs your vision, allowing you to see what no other man can see.
Lead on; lead on! We who are the coalition of the stoned are sprawled in our gutters, cheering you on with our whiskey voices as tears pool in our red-rimmed eyes.
Your admirer,
Belacqua Jones