Every day is Good Friday in the Wall Street Journal, because Friday is Peggy’s Day, and this week her wonderful Declaration is right there in the headline, “At Least Bush Kept Us Safe.” Wait, what? Let’s just ask the old Internets here and double-check, because it is so hard to remember, say, when TERRORISTS BLEW UP MOTHERFUCKING MANHATTAN, WITH JETS, WHICH RUINED EVERYTHING FOREVER.
Umm, yep, Google says September 11, 2001. Who was president then, anyway? Right, right, Al Gore. That fat faggot, he killed 3,000 innocent Americans who weren’t even in the military, and then he started a war with the wrong place, and luckily he was indicted for War Crimes and then executed on teevee — along with Lieberman, which was extra-awesome — and the Supreme Court appointed George Bush Junior to be president because he actually won Florida, it was finally determined, and Bush kept us safe!
Reading Peggy Noonan’s column is an exercise in intentional dangerous insanity, like taking Ecstasy before a street fight, or eating a bowl of glass shards. And sometimes, she goes into double-secret stealth mode, luring you into a false sense of calm and complacency — Oh, she’s just writing a mildly amusing diary entry from some GOP holiday party in Reston or McLean or whatever, don’t worry — and then you realize the dipshit headline (probably just written by this douche, right?) is actually lifted from her suddenly lunatic prose.
Back to the Christmas gathering. There was no grousing about John McCain, and considerable grousing about the Bush administration, but it was almost always followed by one sentence, and this is more or less what it was: “But he kept us safe.”
This is the special moment that comes in nearly every Peggy Noonan column, the bit when you sputter out something like “Jesus fucking christ that did NOT happen at all, anywhere.” Was there a Christmas party in Northern Virginia, even? If so, was Peggy Noonan really in town for it? Who knows?! She may have imagined the whole thing in a vodka-percocet stupor, from inside a confession booth at her beloved St. Thomas More Church on the Upper East Side, weeping and shaking as the Men and Boys Choir sang vespers.
George Bush Junior will be remembered for many things, for a very long time. But the witless clown who jacked off at his pretend ranch in Crawford while freaked-out FBI agents were frantically begging for White House help in stopping an organized plot unveiling itself within the United States for foreign hijackers to crash passenger jets into high-profile American buildings will certainly the fuck not be remembered by anyone as the guy who “kept us safe.”
‘At Least Bush Kept Us Safe’ [Peggy Noonan/Wall Street Journal]
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