Dear George,
Every once in a while, the fog of your stupidity lifts to reveal a neural R-complex that radiates brilliance. When the Big Dick’s face flashes on the screen, I realize your genius in choosing him to script you.
When an old man’s balls turn to dust, his drives darken and become increasingly ugly. If he possesses power, his scowl floods the world stage, leaving a black stain in its wake Darkness is the light that illuminates our emptiness; it is the vile virtue that gives meaning to a meaningless life grounded in the boredom of over stimulation.
What the Big Dick has taught you is that when you cut through all the Neocon bullshit about hegemony, control of the world’s resources, the exploitation and domination of third-world countries, and our determination to snuff all potential competitors, all that is left is the eros of power. Power spread her legs and you came up with a cockamamie scheme to take out Iran, which proves that genius is stupidity carried to extremes.
There are two advantages to a preemptive strike on Iran. For over a year, you and yours have been pointing to a cesspool and trying to convince the public that it’s a pool of pure spring water. Frankly, it’s reached the point of boredom and the public is starting to fall asleep. What greater upper could there be than attacking Iran. The ultimate stimulant is ending boredom. An Iran strike would be Anna Nicole writ large. By the time the public realized they had another fuckup on their hands, you’d be out of office and trying to find a patch of vacant land for your library. (A lot big enough to hold a house trailer would do.)
But, that’s only the frosting. The cake is power. There is nothing like the chaos of a totally screwed up situation to consolidate power. The disaster would be the stage upon which you would strut with the Big Dick working the teleprompter as you declare martial law to protect the Homeland from hordes of pissed-off terrorists swimming across the Atlantic Ocean with dirty bombs clenched firmly in their teeth.
Let the Joint Chiefs of Staff resign in protest. Who needs them when we have a brilliant commander-in-chief still trying to find the helm of the ship of state? What do you care if the Big Dick is our de facto leader as long as you get to keep the trappings of power? It’s all make believe, George. If Kennedy was the first president to understand the power of television, you are the first president to be a sitcom.
Your admirer,
Belacqua Jones
7:32:36 AM 
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