King George IV
Addled, cry-baby old fart George H. W. Bush appeared on the family’s news network this weekend for a confab with Chris Wallace, during which he wished another scourge on a nation that has already suffered enough: a presidential term for his son “Jeb.” Even a deluded, Depends-dependent fool like GHWB realizes that the timing may be problematic:
I mean, right now is probably a bad time, because we’ve had enough Bushes in there.
Bush the Elder totally misses the point: It’s not the number of Bushes so much as the epic level of incompetence the most recent just demonstrated, which by rights should doom anyone sharing that last name to a lifetime of political irrelevance. But I guess you can’t expect a father to recognize his son’s world-historical cretinism—even if practically everyone else on the planet does.
As to Jeb’s personal merits, speaking as a Floridian who suffered though 8 years of Governor Jeb Bush and is currently surveying the ruination the piece of shit left in his wake, let me just say, “Fuck you, Poppy.” Chris Wallace is more polite, however, and wraps up the interview by inquiring after Bush the Elder’s thrill-seeking adventures:
WALLACE: Now, finally, when we talked about a year ago, I asked you if you planned to mark your 85th birthday the way you spent your 80th birthday, by jumping out of an airplane, and you said yes at that time. Is that still your goal?
G.H.W. BUSH: Still on, still on. It will be on June—right around June 12th. As you can see, I’m hobbling down the hall with my cane. People say, “Look at this old idiot.” They think he’s going to go out and make a parachute jump. I am.
My initial thought upon hearing that was to hope the old fart’s parachute fails to deploy and that he goes out with a SPLAT. I know that’s mean. But to hear the doddering fucker wish another of his demented children on a wounded nation was just too much to bear with my compassion and respect for the elderly intact. However, I had to revise that wish upon learning that Papa Bush doesn’t jump alone:
I [parachute] with the—in this instance, with the Golden Knights. All the services have good parachute teams, but I’ve jumped with the Golden Knights, and we’ve told them we want to do this, and they said they’re game.
And you’re in the arms of a great big strong guy. People say, “What about your old hip, your old body?” He does all the work. He opens the chute. You float majestically down to Earth after the chute is open.
And then as you go to land, he says—and you hear him easy—“Pick up your feet. Pick them up.” And I’m in his arms, and my feet up, and he lands with his feet down on the ground and walk—we both walk away. So there’s no… There’s no jarring or anything like that.
WALLACE: Well, I have to ask you the same question, though, finally, that I asked you a year ago. Why?
G.H.W. BUSH: Well, the same answer I gave you. One, just because you’re an old guy, you don’t need to sit around sucking your thumb drooling in the corner. …It brings out the fact that old people can still do interesting things, scary things, exciting things.
Does it? I know plenty of old people who do interesting, exciting things—on their own—but it doesn’t sound like Bush Senior’s parachute adventure requires much active participation on his part. The Golden Knight might as well be jumping with an arthritic sack of potatoes. Maybe Bush should demonstrate his machismo with an activity he can actually perform?
And I wonder how many hundreds of thousands of taxpayer dollars are squandered helping Bush the Elder and other members of the Dead Pecker Club get their jollies by jumping out of planes and such? Probably enough to pay for advanced prosthetics for a few of the soldiers maimed in Sonny Boy’s unnecessary war. Clueless bastards. May they howl in the political wilderness for 500 generations.
[Cross-posted at Betty Cracker]
Posted by Betty Cracker on 01/05/09 at 02:19 PM • Permalink
Categories: News • Politics • BushCo • Our Stupid Media •
Share this post: 
