Goodbye, Yellow Brick Rove

The promised exit of Karl Rove makes me wonder why no one threw water on him all these years. (I'm melting! I'm melting!) Or maybe he was the winged monkey and I'm confusing my metaphors.

Still, his resignation brings back memories.

A brief biography of George W. Bush.

In the turbulent sixties, George W. was there with the civil rights marchers. During the march to Selma, GW and his brother Jeb (Cletus the IV) set up a lemonade stand. Together they sung the stirring anthem, "We Shall Overcharge," although Jeb now admits his "We Serve Whites Only" sign was probably a mistake.

GW's commitment to social change took a deferment when he went entered Yale University as an undergraduate. Disappointed because he thought it was Yale "A & M," he was forced to abandon his plans for a career in mesquite-pulling and opted instead for a major in history because he believed that he wouldn't have to write any term papers. He reasoned, since history had already happened, there was no need to explain it, and the last thing history makers would want is interpretation. He adopted this dogma of "strict constructionism" because, as he put it, "History is like what already was, it's like 'over and done,' it's like history."

As a senior, GW began to hang with skull and bones. Then he discovered there was a campus group with the same name and stopped playing around with skeletons, although he still has some in his closet.

Upon graduation, faced with the prospect of going to Vietnam, George W. bravely joined the National Guard, because that was where the "real" action was. His service record was highlighted by a B-plus average in personal hygeine, although he was caught cheating on the final exam when it was discovered he wore juiced up Hi-Karate. Because of this infraction he was unjustly denied the Congressional Medal of Honor. A highlight of his National Guard days was when he risked his life testing the army's invisibility spray.

The 70's were a busy time for GW. His brief period as an environmentalist ended when he fell off the "Earth Shoes" given him by Jerry Rubin. He vowed revenge.

During the 70's, he experienced two fate-filled encounters including encountering his true love. In a dark theater, during a screening of Love Story, just across the room, he saw Karl Rove. Perhaps, it was the smoke-filled room. Perhaps it was the Bogart trench coat that Rove was wearing. Perhaps it was the lyrical violins of Francis Lay. Whatever it was, their connection was immediate. "It was like seeing at first sight," Bush would later explain.

But what changed his life more than anything else was when he met the librarian, Laura Welch. Or as GW calls her, "My Libarian." He recalled, "I used to think all the people from Libaria were bad like Qaddafi, but I was wrong."

In the 1970s GW gave up drinking, and from that day forward, he was a changed man, articulate and sensitive. There, at the end of his rope, GW found Jesus (who was pretty pissed off at being tied up and later refused to vote for Bush).

In the 1980s, GW put his nose to the grindstone. He had to, his nose seemed to grow every time he spoke. He threw himself into his job, one week clocking in at almost thirty hours.

In the early 90s, GW called together his old friends from Skull and Bones to perform a voodoo ritual to launch his political career. Into a large steaming pot, GW added toenail clippings from Dan Quayle, unused love beads from Sonny Bono, a boil from Nixon's ass, and a half teaspoon of paprika for that certain zest. Stirred together they formed a powerful charm. GW was thereafter unstoppable.

GW Bush's 2000 campaign was directed by Karl Rove. Some described Rove as crazy. Others said he was crazy like a fox -- a mentally disturbed fox that chews off all of its fur and slobbers on itself. Whichever one of these was the case, he was an effective furless campaigner who only drooled on himself for truth and justice.

Early on, GW positioned himself as a "neo"conservative, modelled after the character "Neo" in the Matrix. In a special news conference GW declared: "I do not try and bend the spoon. Instead... I only try to realize the truth. There is no spoon." Then, to demonstrate, he used a spoon to hit himself on the head.

Meanwhile, his opponent, Beavis McGore, with glacier-like swiftness, leapt into action. McGore tried to broaden his appeal by declaring himself "The Great Seal of United States" and dressing up as a baby snow seal. Unfortunately for McGore, Rove, in desperate need of a respectable Republican fur coat, clubbed him senseless.

Still, the election was uncertain until finally November came. GW had always been fond of giving 110 per cent and he expected the same from voting machines. The lightning speed and efficiency of touch screen machines allowed the CEO of "Die Bold," Bruce Willis, to quickly tabulate the numbers and declare GW the winner in a landslide. When a skeptical press pointed out it was still Monday and the election was tomorrow, Willis responded, "Like that's going to make a difference."

This lead to overconfidence on the part of GW and an election night fiasco. When the numbers appeared closer than expected, Bush started making desperate phone calls. He found out, much to his amazement, they were behind in Florida by just one vote and that Jesus hadn't voted. "It was because of the Beatles," Jesus explained. "I tried to get to the polls, but the Beatles blocked me and threatened me and they are bigger than me."

GW never accepted this. He thought Jesus's behavior was payback. GW's next call went to his brother, Jeb and they both decided it would be wrong to allow Jesus's sin to ruin a perfectly good election. They called in Katherine (I'm Not Making Fun of Myself, This Is How I Really Am) Harris. Soon thereafter, Fox (Crazy Like a Rove) News Network declared victory for Bush. In short suit, Fox's Washington affiliate, the Supreme Court, concurred.

--Marty Hill