
When Bush Comes to Shove

The Honorable Chief To Be Hailed was a man in some trouble. His court appointments were a failure. His economic policies a fiasco. His socks did not match. This was all of some concern to the Honorable Chief To Be Hailed, but it was not unusual. He was always in some sort of trouble or other. And it had been that way all his life. It can be said that the words failure and the name The Honorable Chief To Be Hailed were -under the influence of certain lights (not the least of which were Natty or Bud) indistinguishable. It cannot be said that The Honorable Chief To Be Hailed was without ambition. Most of his ambitions, of course, ended up as failures. His novel was panned, his Broadway show was a flop, and his brief stint as a third grade public school teacher ended when it was discovered that he could only read on a first grade level. The Honorable Chief To Be Hailed was not deterred. He decided to become the President of the United States of America. After a long campaign -and failing to be popularly elected to the position- The Honorable Chief To Be Hailed finally had his great success. Most citizens did not understand how this could happen. That is because most citizens did not understand the electoral process. The Honorable Chief To Be Hailed did not mind. He didn’t much understand the electoral process either.
Although in trouble he appreciated the value of remaining calm and appearing assured. This is why he was not quite loudly humming Johnny Cash’s version of ‘The Man Who Couldn’t Cry’. The Honorable Chief To Be Hailed was not a big fan of The Man in Black. He was not in particular a fan of black people at all. He repositioned himself in the chair. It was squishy. He extended one leg and placed it over the other. This action exposed one of his socks, but he didn’t worry on this all that much. He didn’t think it all that reasonable for someone to be watching him close enough to see that the exposed sock did not match the one that was hid by a pant cuff. The Honorable Chief To Be Hailed grabbed a paperback book he had brought with him. The book was for reading. It was also hoped to help in the appearance of being assured. This was his favorite book. It was by his favorite author. He sincerely hope to finish it one day. The Honorable Chief To Be Hailed’s favorite author was M. Galaxy Parker. M. Galaxy Parker was the Honorable Chief To Be Hailed’s favorite author for many reasons. He was brilliant, he was funny and most importantly the great Oliver Galaxy Parker wrote on or below a first grade level.
Before the Honorable Chief To Be Hailed could get very far into his favorite novel he was beckoned by the loan officer. This was it. His palms were getting sweaty. His stomach started to get all fluttery inside. Like he had spent all morning eating caterpillars and suddenly they had started to become butterflies. He started humming ‘Music to Watch Girls By” not quite loudly and stood up. He strode forward and took the loan officer’s hand in his own. He took note of her pinstriped suit and name tag advising a name of Mrs. Terry as she led him into her office. He decided right then as he descended into another plush and cushy chair that if all this worked out he would offer her a cabinet position or ambassadorship to some paradise all sunny and nice. She offered him a butterscotch lollipop. He accepted but quickly spit it out. It didn’t at all taste like scotch..
Mrs. Terry spread out documents before her, glanced over them quickly before speaking. She then spoke. “Well Mr. To Be Hailed, this is a pleasure. A real pleasure indeed. I’ve taken the liberty of reviewing your financials. You had some real rough patches back there. The health clinic you opened that specialized in treating hemophiliacs with leeches. The small business that provided little kids birthday parties with a pirhana petting zoo and helium balloon jugglers. Pets.com. Those were all some real doozies. But the past is the past. You’ve got a good job now. Some money in the bank. And your credit score is reasonably respectable. So what is it exactly, Mr. To Be Hailed, that I can help you with today?”
“Well you see Mrs. Terry, I think I’d like to be getting a loan.”
“Its Mona.”
“Scuse me?”
“Mona, you can just call me Mona. Its my first name.”
“Alright Miss Mona. You see I’d like to get a loan from you today.”
“A loan, very good. And what will this loan be for? A car? A house? Perhaps a nice new pair of matching socks?”
“Well you see Miss Mona it’s like this. I’ve already got cars . . .like dozens of them, I’ve got a big house . . . like dozens of those too . . . and I’m pretty sure I’ve got some matching socks around somewhere. What I really want.” He was getting excited. He was about to begin fumbling his words. He decided to remain calm. He started not quite loudly humming the theme song to the Six Million Dollar Man.
“Bionic implants?” The Honorable Chief to be Hailed crossed his legs and said no more.
“Mr. To Be Hailed, you seem tense. There is no need for that. I’m a professional and you’re . . . you have a professional job. You just have to tell me what I can help you with today and then maybe I can help you.”
“Well you see Miss Mona it’s like this. What I want.” He again repositioned himself in the plush and cushy chair. He again exposed an unmatched sock. “I mean . . . what I really need is a war.”
“A war?”
“Yeah, you see Miss Mona my daddy had a war and everybody loved him during it. And lately I’ve been dreaming about the smiling faces of my children’s face when I bring them home a brand new war all shiny and brand new. A daddy’s children are just so important to him. And if you only knew how much this means to me. To my family. So whadya think?”
“Well . . . I don’t know.”
“Now mind you Miss Mona I don’t want a big war. All global and across the world and like that. Hell come to think of it my war doesn’t have to be brand new, it can be a second hand deal or late model used one . . . that would be ok. You’ve gotta understand Miss Mona I’ve got a good heart. I’m not greedy like that. I don’t want a big war. I just want a small war. Maybe in some small little middle eastern country that nobody cares much about. One just like my daddy had. Oh Miss Mona you’ve gotta understand how much family means to a man like me.”
“Hmm,” Mona swiveled back in a cushy chair that was all her own. She buckled her fingers into laced locks and presented them into and across her chest. “I’d like to help you Mr. To Be Hailed . . . I really would . . . but . . . you know this . . .um,” The Honorable Chief To Be Hailed liked the way this woman talked, she was speaking his language. And if she kept it up he’d just have to make her the number one speech writer. She’d sure be an improvement over that other guy. The funny one that was always coming up with all the nonsense words. The Honorable Chief to Be Hailed was pretty sure he made half of those words up. But he figured that is just what he got for hiring a guy that had to get a scholarship in order to go to school. “You’ll have to excuse me, I.”
“That’s ok Miss Mona. I understand. I have a good heart.”
“It’s just such an odd request. Do you think perhaps maybe . . . that you might have a better reason for wanting to get into this whole war business?”
“Oh sure . . . a reason . . . well of course I’ve got one of those.” The Honorable Chief To Be Hailed was in more trouble than he had previously assumed. He hadn’t thought this through. He thought so little through. The Honorable Chief To Be Hailed put his right hand into his right coat pocket and extended his index finger. He would just have to rob the bank. He thought on this. Could he get away with it? What kind of security did a place like this have? Could he throw the cops off his trail if they were looking for a man with mismatching socks and he discreetly peeled his off while making an exit? The Honorable Chief To Be Hailed was mumbling these questions to himself and under his breath. One of these words got spoken louder than the rest.
“Security? Well I guess that’s a good reason. A nation should be responsible for protecting the citizens? Who is it, I wonder, that is threatening our security?”
“The bad guys. Bad people, with nasty weapons and black hearts.” He was on a roll now.
“Nasty weapons?”
“Yeah . . . real nasty bad weapons that can destroy a lot of stuff very massively.”
“You mean like . . . weapons of mass destruction?”
“Yes,” He liked those words. He liked them a whole lot and decided that for the next several years he would say them at least twenty times a day. He would hire people to find clever ways to interject them into conversations. He would put them onto the tops of birthday cakes. He would have them embroidered into the seats of his underwear. This was all very good the Honorable Chief To Be Hailed decided. “You see Miss Mona man like me, a family man . . . with a good heart . . . well we just can’t abide these countries with weapons of mass destruction. Weapons of mass destruction are b-a-d. BAD.” He flashed her a smile.
“Yes they are. But what about ours?”
“Our whosits whatsits?”
“Our weapons of mass destruction.” He hadn’t thought of that. He was thinking of it now.
“Hmm yes . . . I don’t like any weapons of mass destruction. Which is why we need this war so bad. If we use our weapons of mass destruction to blow our enemies up then our weapons of mass destruction will as well be blown up and there will be fewer weapons of mass destruction. Weapons of mass destruction. Weapons of mass destruction.” Very good. He had already used the phrase seven times. And in less than two minutes. He thought this was very good indeed.
“Hey Miss Mona, do you want to hear a joke?”
“Sure Mr. To Be Hailed, sure.”
“Knock knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Weapons of mass destruction.” Eight times. He laughed. He laughed very hard. He almost fell out of his cushy chair. The Honorable Chief To Be Hailed was getting a case of the giddies. Perhaps he would try another one of those dumb dumb lollipops now.
“Now that is a good reason Mr. To Be Hailed. Especially since our enemy will have to retaliate with their own weapons of mass destruction thereby aiding us in our cause to destroy them, albeit taking a lot of Americans with them.” Mona paused. She resumed. “Of course there is a problem.”
“A problem?” He questioned.
“What if you can’t destroy all their weapons of mass destruction? What if the enemy is still a threat after you’re done? Then your war would be seen as a failure and you would still owe us a lot of money.” The Honorable Chief To Be Hailed thought on this. He didn’t want his war to be a failure. He spoke as he thought.
“Well you see . . . Miss Mona . . . my war wouldn’t be against an enemy that had weapons of mass destruction . . . ah no, that’s old hat. My war would be against an enemy that was trying to build them. Or could possibly be building them. Or at some time thought about building them. Or could possible at some time have thought or might be thinking or might think about building them.”
“Whoa . . . someone like that doesn’t sound to be much of a threat to security.
“Don’t you think it might be better to . . .”
“No, I don’t.” This was not all sitting well with Mona. But she didn’t pursue it any further. Perhaps she should have. But Mona wasn’t in the businesses of reason or conscience. Mona was in the banking business. And the business of banking was making money.
“Alright Mr. To Be Hailed. This is all very promising. How much money is it that you think you’ll be needing.” The Honorable Chief To Be Hailed looked down to where he remembered having left his fingers. Five of them were still in his right coat pocket. He removed them and began to tally. Oh how he wished to have been born with six of them on each hand like his ultra-lucky brother Jeb.
“Hundred, two hundred tops max.”
“Two hundred, um million?”
“Billion.”
“Billion?”
“Yup, two hundred billion. That should just about do ‘er.”
“That’s a staggering amount of money. Even for a bank of our resources . . . I wonder . . . is there any where else you might be able to secure some of this money from?”
“Well I have tried other places Miss Mona. But none of them really worked out to well. I even took a stab at making the money myself. But shucks that didn’t want to work out either.”
“I feel I must ask, why?”
“Well Miss Mona it’s like this. I thought I could try a lemonade stand to make some money. I went to the supermarket to get the items for making lemonade and the grocer swindled me. He sold me these little packets that I knew were just too darn small to have any lemons in them. But I bought them just the same hoping to believe that the grocer was a man like me with a family and a good heart. I got home and opened one of those packets and whadya know?”
“What?”
“I was right . . . . no lemons. Just some stuff that looked to be like powder. But I wasn’t convinced that it was powder and I wanted to be sure . . . so I held the little packet up to my nose and gave it a firm inhale . . . and let me tell you what Miss Mona . . .whoo-whee . . .”
“Mr. To Be Hailed.”
“Huh.”
“Did you try anything else.”
“Well yes . . . but I was in college back then . . .”
“I mean to make the money.”
“Oh yeah . . . well I thought about having a garage sale.” The Honorable Chief To Be Hailed paused. Mona did not know why this was.
“And why didn’t the garage sale work out?”
“Well mainly because it was attached to the house. That and my predecessor had already sold most of the good stuff to the Chinese.” Mona remembered this man’s predecessor. Had it really been five years since he had sat in the same plush and cushy chair looking to borrow $300 million because of a suspicion that Tylonal was really a code word for plutonium and a not altogether attractive woman with a blue dress.
“I’ll be honest with you Mr. To Be Hailed, that’s a lot of money. Do you have any sort of collateral that you can put up. I mean . . . I’m certain that you don’t have anything comparable to the amount you’re looking to borrow. But every little bit helps.”
The Honorable Chief To Be Hailed seemed to remember having something. Something old. He had often heard it spoken about. He had never entirely understood what it was but at some point he had spoken about it during the campaign and at some other point he had sworn to defend it while one of his hands had been someplace else. He thought that it might be of some value. It might be just enough to seal the deal and if not he could always hop across the street and sell some plasma for coin just like he did back when he was pretending to go to school. Perhaps he could describe the item in all sorts of flowery words and convince this lady that it was worth more than it actually was. He’d done a pretty good job selling the war. While he was thinking on all these things his fingers had gone off and done something entirely of their own design. They had been aided in this by his arms. His eyes now saw completely what had gone on.
Mona grabbed it in her hands. She unfolded it along certain ancient creases until it had assumed a much larger size than immediately had been apparent. She hummed under her breath but not quite silently, she whistled a little whistle and formed some words and spread them out over orders and points of ellipses. “We . . . in Order . . . more perfect . . . establish . . . promote . . . secure . . . do ordain and establish this . . . America.” She looked up at the President. “You have no idea what this is do you?”
“Well, ummm . . . no.”
“This is something we’ve been looking to get out hands on for quite sometime. And I believe we will be able to get some business done here today.”
“Very good. I thank you. A grateful nation thanks you.” He was not worried. He signed some papers. He stood. It looked like Mona would be getting that ambassadorship after all. He sauntered to the door. Looked back. Flashed a smile and briefly ran his hand over his head. He started humming again and continued long after he had passed out. Mona could not place the tune. This was not her fault. The Honorable Chief To Be Hailed might not have written any of the tunes he hummed, but this arrangement was new and all his own. As of right now the iteration has no name. Future generations might very well refer to it as simply a mistake. I like to call it ‘Hubris’; or more specifically ‘Hubris Uber Alles’.
