I have an honest and sincere request to make of you. I would understand fully if you didn't give me the courtesy of a response since, as you must know, I have written some awfully harsh things about you in the past. On second thought, you probably don't know, seeing as how those harsh things have all appeared in a newspaper. And the way I hear it, you pay less attention to newspapers than you do to weather reports.
But look, I'm not here today to say harsh things. If you took that newspaper crack as a harsh thing, I apologize. What I intend to ask of you is vitally important to the well-being of this country, and I don't want to jeopardize America's future by blurting out something critical to a man who takes criticism as poorly as he picks cabinet members. That's why I addressed you as "George" this time, instead of the impersonal "Bush" or the preferred "Monkey Boy." Maybe ... just maybe ... some day I'll be able to call you "Mister President" without gagging. But let's take it one step at a time, if that's OK by you, George.
Let there be no doubt about it, what I am asking has a great deal to do with the horrific scenes of catastrophe and incompetence we all witnessed in New Orleans just one week hence. But frankly, it is the perils awaiting us around the next corner that concern me more than the way you botched the Katrina crisis. For instance, what if the "Big One" hits California? What if Mount Rainier up Seattle way pulls a St. Helens and turns the entire Northwest into an ashtray? What if Antarctica's Ross Ice Shelf drops off from that global warming your cronies claim isn't happening, and raises the world's seas to a level where your chubby bro's Florida is knee-deep in sharks and salt water? What if one of those Muslim zealots you so successfully enraged manages to slip a suitcase nuke past the Homeland Sekurity Kops who did such a bang-up job with the Katrina situation?
And, Lord help us, what if one or more of these terrible things were to happen before Inauguration Day, 2009? You know ... when finally, we will be rid of you.
So here's the deal, George. With the Gulf Coast disaster, we--and by "we," I include people who once believed you were someone they could rely on--have seen clearly what an utter and complete screw-up you are. Early on in your administration, there was the consoling thought even among those of us who recognized you as an under-achievin' phony from the get-go that the Republican machine would surely surround you with enough competent personnel to make you look better than you are, and that the vital functions of the federal government would soldier on in spite of you merely pretending to know what you're doing.
But by now, we know even that was a false hope. Had you put Moe in charge of the Iraq War, Larry in charge of our energy policy, and Curly in charge of FEMA, it could only have been an improvement.
The truth is, prevailing sentiment among everyone but the most die-hard brain-dead is that we can no longer take the chance of having you run the country. If you doubt what I say, I need only remind you that if the water level in New Orleans was falling as fast as your approval ratings are, those desperate refugees hunkered down in the Houston Astro Dome would be sleeping at home by this weekend.
So what I am about to propose is simply based on fact. You, George, aren't up to the job, and that's a fact. Whatever your true destiny in God's Great Scheme is, I am content to leave up to either God or a temporary job placement service--but this much we do know... as the chief executive of even a crappy country, let alone a great one, you suck.
Therefore, George, what you need to do is step aside. Right now. Before something else happens. Please. America has never needed you more than it needs you right now, and what she needs you to do is get your butt out of that office and make room for someone who knows what to do. Oh, and take your pals with you. They might have been great fun back in Texas, but they are clearly in over their heads in Washington.
Now, I have no doubt that what few remaining supporters you have will accuse me of flagrantly exploiting a national tragedy for political gain with this proposal. And who would know flagrant exploitation better than your supporters, having gotten so good at it themselves following 9/11?
But in one sense, they would be right, seeing as how I consider the ultimate goal of politics to be the improvement of conditions for the general populace. And in this instance, political gain would be potable water, edible food, and a dry spot--all simple goals that seem to lie outside your particular talents and capacities.
And to prove this is not a partisan issue with me, George, I would suggest you ask your daddy to be the one to come in and take over your position. He's cleaned up your messes many times before, and I imagine he would be thrilled to do it again. I know he's old, and he wasn't that great a president even 15 years ago, but at this point, I'd trust Gerald Ford to do a better job than you--and I can't even remember whether Gerald Ford is still alive or not.
Besides, as I understand, your father has become a close compadre with another ex-president, Bill Clinton. And with conditions being what they are, it may take more than one leader to straighten this out. They could work together, sort of a co-president thing. Like, George Herbert Walker could handle the foreign policy debacle you created--particularly in Iraq--because he's been there, done that... only with better results. And Bill could handle the domestic front. African-Americans truly love Clinton, as you'll remember. And after what happened last week, I doubt they could talk a drowning black man into a Coast Guard helicopter if he knew you were on it.
And hey, as far as I'm concerned, you can still call yourself "President," if it's that important to you. Queen Elizabeth still calls herself "Queen," and most Brits don't mind, as long as she doesn't try to exceed the level of her own competence. Shoot, I'm sure the American people would let you call yourself anything your heart desires--"King" or "Duke" or "Supreme Ruler of the Universe"--if you'll just go find yourself a corner to sit in and stay the hell out of the way.
So get packing, George, but don't take long. There's a tropical depression developing east of Bermuda and they've forecast a harsh winter in the Midwest.