Dear God XI: The Son & the father

Dear God,

Y’know God, the best and earliest advice I ever heard was from my Daddy not long after my blessed birth when I heard him say to my Mamma, “Well, y’know Babs, ain’t nobody that’s perfect.”

I have long lived by that, my hole presidency has lived by that. There ain’t nobody that’s perfect—not Condolezza, not Dick, not Don, not even Laura (though if Laura would just do that other little thing she probably would be) and, I have to say, because nobody else I know will, not even I am perfect.

But you? What was it? When was it.? Was it after that 550th bottle of Jack that something or someone came to me and said, “Bud, you is going nowhere in life, and you has got to come to God ‘cause He is going to take you to a better life and to the presidency, and so shall it be good and perfect. And so it was that the Man did come to the presidency…

And then to Iraq.

Now, I am not accusing you or anything, you understand. I don’t know whether it was you God or my Daddy that told me to go into Iraq. Frankly, I often got you two mixed up when I was listening and not paying too much attention. I know this, it wasn’t Homer Simpson, ‘cause I asked him. And it wasn’t in the Bible, ‘cause nowhere in there does it say that I should go forth and kick the shit out of Saddam.

But someone told me, and then left me to take the blame. Let’s this be our little secret—I blame you. But I’m not going to go out there and say our boys in Iraq are dieing because they are doing God’s work. No sirree. That would be cowardly, that would be indecisive, that would be sacrilege, that could be a problem when we eventually meet. Besides, it is incumbent on me as the incumbent to be strong in the face of adversity, show leadership, accept the accountability and…find someone else to blame.

Now I want you to give some thought to that God. I want you to then come to me tonight after the Simpsons and before Laura and tell me whose to blame for us being in Iraq. I don’t want no God-given solutions on how to get out of there—‘cause I am going to leave that to the new guy coming in. But I do want you to tell me who is going to take the fall on this, so that when History looks back at me and my presidency he will say, “it wasn’t perfect, but he was a good man a righteous man, a man of vision, a man of the people, a man insightful, intelligence, who strode the world like Homer and changed it for the better. That’s what I want. So you need to come up with someone else to blame for Iraq. I don’t care who: Don, Colin, Laura, anybody.

Have you got it God? Give me a legacy. Find someone else to blame. But not Dick. Not the vice president. Never Dick.

Never let it ever be said, oh God, that, I George W. Bush was ruled by my Dick.

I’ll leave it to you.

G.

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