The full subtext of President Bush’s address Thursday, as leaked by an unnamed source at The White House:
Good evening. I am speaking to you from the former city of New Orleans, which is rendered even emptier by my presence, and which waits in despair for my term to grind to a merciful close. Eastward from Lake Pontchartrain, across the Mississippi coast, to Alabama and into Florida, millions of lives were changed in a day by a cruel and wasteful administration.
In the aftermath, we have seen the people who voted for me left stunned and uprooted, and looking for meaning in a democratic process that seems so blind and random. We have also witnessed the kind of desperation no citizen of this great and generous nation should ever have to know — fellow Americans denied food and water, raging in tears at the federal government; vulnerable people left at the mercy of cronies who had no experience; and the bodies of the dead lying uncovered and untended and carefully unphotographed in the street.
And tonight I offer this pledge to the American people: throughout the area hit by the hurricane, we will do what it takes. We will spend money that we do not have, just as we have in the great Iraq War, and we will see to it that your grandchildren bear that onerous debt. We will stay as long as it takes to get my ratings back into the fiftieth percentile.
This administration is largely finished; although we are moving forward with our extensive spin campaign. All major gasoline pipelines are now in operation, preventing the supply disruptions that my friends in the oil industry greatly feared.
The breaks in the levees — which nobody anticipated — have been closed, the pumps are running, and the water here in New Orleans is receding by the hour. Environmental officials are on the ground — don’t you just hate those flakes? — taking water samples, identifying and dealing with hazardous debris, and spreading their vile hippie ideology amongst the poor.
The Department of Homeland Security is desperately covering its tracks, both in the Gulf region and far away. I have signed an order preventing reporters, at the pain of rendition, from investigating the resumes of any acting officials.
Evacuees who have not yet registered should contact FEMA or the Red Cross. Okay, the Red Cross. FEMA is busy, and besides, it doesn’t exist. The Department of Labor is helping displaced persons apply for temporary jobs, at just slightly less than minimum wages, and unemployment benefits — which will be eliminated next week, along with the estate tax, in order to, you know, balance the budget.
Speaking of which, to carry out the first stages of the relief effort and begin the rebuilding at once, I have asked for, and the Congress has provided, more than $60 billion — which we don’t actually have, but what the hell. This is an unprecedented response to an unprecedented crisis, which demonstrates the compassion and resolve of our nation, and the folly of having spent more than three times that on an unnecessary war.
When Trent Lott’s house is rebuilt, it will be even better and stronger than before the storm, as befits a good segregationist. We will also build waterproof shacks for the four black people in New Orleans who voted Republican.
After four years of milking the experience of September 11th, I am beginning to sense that Americans expect a more effective response in a time of emergency. When the federal government fails to meet such an obligation, I, as President, am responsible for the problem, and for the solution, and I fucking hate it. So I have ordered every Cabinet secretary to participate in a comprehensive review of the government response to the hurricane, in an effort to thwart an independent inquiry. This government will bury the lessons of Hurricane Katrina. We are going to whitewash every action and impede necessary changes, so that Halliburton remains poised to exploit every challenge of nature, or act of evil men, or any other lucrative threat to our people.
In this country, there is a custom following the mass death of citizens. The funeral procession parades slowly through the streets, followed by a band playing a mournful dirge as it moves to the cemetery. Once the casket has been laid in place, Halliburton breaks into a joyful “conga line” symbolizing the triumph of money over death. Tonight the Gulf Coast is still coming through the dirge, yet we will live to see the conga line.
Thank you, and may God bless America.
(If you loathed this, please visit Dysblog, where it only gets worse.)