Gonna Be Just Fine
June 18, 2002
By Mark W. Trude
hear the pollsters tell it, a full 70% of Americans support
the actions and policies of the Bush administration. To those
Americans who find themselves out-of-step with seven tenths
of their fellow citizens, these numbers are an abomination.
Many observers -- on the left, especially -- speculate as
to how the pollsters could have arrived at that 70% figure:
the questions are slanted or incomplete, people are afraid
to say what they really think, the samples are skewed toward
testosterone-addled, gun-toting, Christian Republican males
in the south and midwest, the numbers are pure artifice or
invention. But the left just refuses to admit that all that
inexplicable support for the anti-democratic squatter in the
White House is real.
The time has come for the naysayers to join with the fans
of this pre-emptive striking, civil rights-squashing, constitution-shredding,
global warming-ignoring, free speech-hating, Social Security-raiding,
rich guy-helping buffoon and believe that everything's gonna
be just fine.
If you're reading this, you probably don't believe that everything's
going to be just fine. In fact, Zantac and Paxil are probably
staples of your diet and you're probably not sleeping much
and you probably pick up your daily newspaper like it's a
cocked and loaded .357 whose safety is missing and whose barrel
is about two inches from your face.
You've probably taken to wearing an elastic headband to prevent
your skull from exploding from all that "Bush was elected"
and "we must sacrifice our freedoms in order to be more free"
cognitive dissonance you've got banging around up there. You
most likely don't think that the inability to form a coherent
sentence is a desirable trait for the so-called leader of
the so-called free world.
And speaking of desirable traits, you undoubtedly believe
that the trait of being able to pronounce "nuclear" is one
that you want in the guy who gets passed the "nucular" football.
And to think you're bringing all this anxiety upon yourself.
Settle down. Everything is going to be just fine. It is.
Really. If you've got your big-screen TV tuned to the big
game and you're drinking a big Coke to wash down that big
Domino's right-to-life pizza, then what reason do you have
If you stop at Starbuck's for that grande cup o' Joe on your
way to the Judeo-Christian house of worship of your choice
before making that post-supplication run to WalMart for 48
rolls of toilet paper and the latest ghostwritten celebrity
autobiography, then what could possibly be wrong?
If you festoon your Ford Explorer with tattered, made-in-China
American flags and show your terrorism-resistant patriotism
by rolling up to the gas pump every three days to satisfy
your insatiable 8-miles-to-the-gallon appetite for cheap,
Saudi Arabian terrorist-financing petrol, then why the uneasiness?
If you leave the latest computer-generated, character- and
complexity-free summer blockbuster and use a gallon of SUV
fuel rushing over to the megastore that killed the "mom and
pop" record store and pay too much for the calculatedly inoffensive
CD soundtrack of said blockbuster, then there's nothing to
If you turn off the CD and turn on CNN or Fox or MSNBC for
the corporate-approved truth and man, ain't the media liberal?
and Ashleigh Banfield is a babe and dammit, that Bill O'Reilly
makes a lot of sense, then the world, as they say, is your
sewage- and phytoplankton-strangled oyster.
If John Ashcroft doesn't remind you of that creepy shop teacher
who used to brush up against you and linger way too long while
he showed how to "work the lathe" and you really like that
"Mighty Eagle" song he sang on CNN that day and you can't
wait 'til you can download the MP3, then the future belongs
If you think that George W. Bush -- with his "gentleman's
C" malapropisms and Reaganesque inattention to minor details
like intelligence briefings with words like "bin Laden" and
"hijack" and melting icebergs the size of Rhode Island --
is just like you, even though your daddy couldn't afford to
buy you an Ivy League education or a National Guard slot or
a CEO position or the presidency of the United States of America,
then you will be well taken care of.
If your name is easy to pronounce and you shave everyday
and your nose never touches the floor when you pray and your
idea of headwear is a baseball cap turned backwards, then
you will be free to move about, provided that you move where
you're told and have the proper ID and maybe the correct color
iris and don't mind the odd surveillance camera.
If you only surf the web for hot teen action or to download
Christian "rock" songs or buy the Bush "out of harm's way"
9/11 photo from the RNC website or to order the latest typed-with-one-hand,
anti-Clinton screed from the stable of maniacs at Regnery
publishing, then you needn't fear a visit from the Secret
Service or the FBI or some other new, more malevolent SS-like
agency to whose existence Ashcroft may or may not admit.
So, just be sure to follow the above steps, and you'll feel
the weight lift from your shoulders faster than you can say
There now. Don't you feel better?
Mark W. Trude tightens his headband daily.