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----- Original Message ----- From: "Joseph Duemer" <[log in to unmask]> To: <[log in to unmask]> Sent: Sunday, February 11, 2007 8:43 PM Subject: Debriefing Debriefing The secretary returning from the theater breaks it to the commander-in-chief: We're getting killed out there, Sir. Getting our butts kicked, our lunches eaten, our asses handed to us on a platter, etcetera. We tried having the marines grow mustaches to show respect for the cultural norms etcetera, but the rapes & murders sort of undercut that initiative, Sir. Sir, there are no good options, Sir. The president enjoyed the secretary's nervous military tic of repeating the word at the beginning & the end of every other sentence. (He'd been a corporal in Korea.) Sir, we need another twenty thousand bodies. Twenty-one thousand to be exact. Or punt. Actually, Sir, in reality, Sir, there's nothing another twenty-thousand can do but make the capitol a little neater as we withdraw. I never punt, said the president. Where's my fucking pen? Run it up the middle. Hit it out of the fucking park. I never fucking punt. The generals looked grave. Who was this little puke who never served talking like he needs a sled to drag around his balls? Let the record show that the generals looked grave & that the president never punted. Let the record also show he put the necessary bodies on the line & kept them there until the dunes knelt to Jesus & hell froze over. Until blood filled all the classrooms of the universities & all the libraries were burned. Let the record show that the president never wavered in his purpose, never let opinion sway his resolve to stay the course, never followed & always led, never listened, never learned, never let the facts get in the way & always did what his little god -- an endless whining feedback tone like tinnitus – demanded. God damn it to fucking hell you shitheel moron I never punt. Now get those bodies. -- Joseph Duemer Professor of Humanities Clarkson University [sharpsand.net] This kicks ass. Good work.