A few months ago, back when McCain still thought he had a chance, an angry old man took the mic while at a McCain/Palin rally that was being held in Waukesha, Wisconsin. He yelled and screamed about how mad he was, how pissed all conservatives were about what seemed to be an impending Obama win.
If this doesn’t ring a bell, here, check it out for yourself:
Now, what really surprised me about this guy’s comments was how much I could relate to what he was saying. No, I don’t have a fear of the “socialists taking over the country” like this guy clearly does. But I am mad, and have been for eight long years now.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have one ounce of sympathy for this guy or, for that matter, any of the people who feel they “lost” on November 4th. These people are mad? They’re upset? They’re angry? Good. Welcome to the world I’ve been living in for the past eight years. You and your anger can go have a powwow in Fox News’ parking lot for all I care, because what you’ve been feeling these past two months pales in comparison to the disgust that has been growing inside of me like a parasite for nearly a decade.
And this, George W. Bush, is what you’ve made me. You, your monkeys and your collective blasé attitude towards anyone and anything that truly matters in the world fills me with such contempt for your miserable administration that it almost makes me embarassed to admit it.
Some people dealt with you with shrugged shoulders and a “What you gonna do?” attitude. And granted, for years we did very much the same thing: making fun of your hillbilly nature; poking fun at the fact that you’re barely smart enough to even swallow a pretzel correctly; shaking our heads in disbelief as you stumble and mumble and bumble over words that a sixth grader should know.
After all, you, George W. Bush, are a moron, so it’s been easy to make fun of you as such.
But your days in charge are now over, and you can take your wide-eyed, blank-stare wife with you back to Texas. You’re relieved of your duties.
But before you go, I wanted to give you a little going-away gift; something personal, just from me to you.
The gift I want to give you is my anger; my hatred; my contempt; my belief that people really were stupid enough to re-elect you; my disregard for everything that is good, everything that is meaningful, everything that shines brightly; my apathy, and any other negative thought or ounce of tissue that still exists in me today.
I give it all back to you because I don’t need it anymore. I’ve done what I could with it for these past eight years, and now I think it’s time for you to deal with it.
Tomorrow I will wake up a happier man, George W. Bush. But not as happy as the days when you, Cheney, Rumsfeld, Wolfowitz, Rice and Rove all leave this mortal coil.
On each of those glorious days I will throw a party for those closest to me, and we will all eat, drink, laugh and talk about how the world is now at least a tiny bit better.
Until then, may you disappear into complete obscurity, realizing little by little with each passing day that you were nothing more than an eight year-long bad joke; a crappy tourist-trap t-shirt; a forgotten cartoon character.
May you remain that way forever.