Every day, the war drums beat their restless tattoo from the sun-blistered scrub brush of Crawford, Texas. "Attack Iraq! Attack Iraq! Attack Iraq!" they cry, relentlessly, maddeningly, driving the tribal elders to frenzy in the ritual dance around the fire. The War Leader, chest smeared with blood, face blazing with slashes of vibrant paint, emerges from his sacred cave and bellows: "I will not wait! He will not stand!" The elders, drunk with sound and fury, strip off their loincloths and colored robes and nakedly bray their oath of fealty to the Leader, to his righteous war of conquest, and to the great one-eyed god burning in the noonday sky.
In other words, just another typical week in U.S. politics, as the Chief Vacationer and those wiggly invertebrates known as Congressional Democrats continue to build the "bipartisan consensus" for America's first openly declared aggressive war.
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