Brother Knows Worst

My hopes of a Jeb Bush candidacy - yes, a Jeb Bush administration even - are slowly dying like rancid grapes upon a withered vine. I so wanted Jeb to win the nomination at the Republican National Convention next summer. Any time a Bush is in the running for as prestigious a gig as the presidency of the United States of America, it's always good for a million laughs. Whenever they win the Big Prize, it gets funnier still - in a dark, Dr. Strangelove kinda way. The Family Bush are to satire what Buster Keaton was to comedy. True, theirs is comedy of the unintentional variety, but that doesn't make them any less knee-slappingly hysterical. I suspect a Bush 45 period in our history would constitute a new golden age of American political satire.

But, alas, it seems as if none of this is going to happen. Apparently Jebbie Boy didn't get the memo: 

Try to avoid any mention of your half-witted brother, Jeb. You've got a big job ahead of you. Trying to convince this country to take another direction - particularly in lieu of the fact that the current administration has spent six-and-a-half years cleaning up the mess that Dubya left behind - is going to be excruciatingly difficult as it is. Try not to compound those difficulties. Send Dubya out of the country AND DON'T EVEN REFER TO THE LITTLE BASTARD AT ALL.

Poor ol' Jeb must have been out of the office when that memo arrived on his desk. When asked on Monday if - knowing what we know now regarding the faulty intelligence (lies) that preceded the American invasion of Iraq in 2013 - would he still have authorized it if he had been commander-in-chief at the time? Incredibly, the answer he gave was an unhesitating "yes". The invasion of Iraq, the worst military blunder in American history, was a grand 'n' dandy idea according to this knucklehead. To no one's surprise, Jeb started to furiously back-peddle in the days that followed. A day or so later he told reporters that he had "misheard" the question. By the end of the week he stooped about as low as is possible for a politician stoop - and don't forget that those Bushes are champion stoopers: He said that such hypothetical inquiries are a disservice to the troops who fought and died in Iraq. How touching.

Wait, it gets worse (or "better" for my purposes). In a meeting in New York with a group of his mainline, financial supporters, Jeb let loose with this nasty little bombshell: 

His most trusted, sought-after adviser on Middle Eastern policy is none other than (WAIT FOR IT!) George W. Bush! You heard me, campers! The imbecilic frat boy whose four year reign of error and incompetence is the man Jeb goes to whenever he seeks council on affairs in that part of this troubled globe. Here's something else you might want to take into consideration: Of the twenty-one foreign policy advisers who are now guiding him in his yet-to-be-announced campaign, seventeen of them are part of the team of killer-clowns who got us into this mess to begin with - including Paul Wolfowitz - the same schmuck who testified to congress way back when that the war in Iraq could be done on the cheap, and that the cost would be paid for by Iraqi oil money! 

No, you're not hallucinating.

As I've said (my greedy purposes aside) if this country is ever again foolish enough to send another member of that disgusting family to the Oval Office - to the White House for God's sake - we'll deserve everything that happens to us. If that should ever happen, I'll have an easy enough time making the best of it. It'll be a bit trickier for the rest of you.

I just had the funniest thought: Do you think that Jeb will assign Dick Cheney the task of finding him a running mate? Wouldn't that be a scream?

Tom Degan
Goshen, NY


Zero Mostel
by Jared Brown

Zero Mostel was one of the great comic actors of the twentieth century. He is best remembered as Tevye in the Broadway production of Fiddler on the Roof or as Max Bialystock in the funniest movie ever made, The Producers. Most people are unaware of the saga of Zero's struggles in the nineteen fifties. At the end of the forties, making a fortune as a performer in nightclubs, radio and film, this great actor and clown was blacklisted by the House un-American Activities Committee, for the simple reason of his leftist views. For an entire decade, what little income he was able to generate was as an artist. This excellent 1989 biography is about the rise and fall - and eventual mountaintop triumph - of as brilliant a talent as ever shined in the American night.