Stinky and the Vulcans
November 30, 2004
By Sheila Samples
The kid and I were chatting happily last week about really really
important things such as this country's top movie, Spongebob Squarepants,
when, suddenly, she pointed at the TV screen behind me. Then, as
her face contorted in anger, she said ominously, "He's e-e-e-e-v-u-l..."
Startled by the look on her face, I turned to the TV, expecting
to see the Red Skull with his boot on the neck of Captain America
- but it was only George Bush, smirking and chortling and kissing
members of his cabinet on the lips. "No, honey," I said, "that's
only the president. That's George Bush."
"Well, okay," she said, with a shudder. Then, squenching her eyes
shut and pursing her lips, she muttered - "But I'm gonna call him
I don't know which is more appalling - that millions of comatose
adults flock to theaters to pay homage to Spongebob Squarepants
while the world goes to hell around them, or that a single 8-year-old,
familiar with the stark, good-versus-evil battles waged by Spiderman,
Captain Marvel and the entire battalion of Ninja Rangers could take
one look at George Bush and instantly recognize a villian.
I hope she never sees Paul Wolfowitz, Condi Rice, Richard Perle
and the rest of the Vulcans when they take their second-term circus
act on the road. Wow. What a gig. Think about it. Stinky and the
Vulcans - The Greatest Show on Earth. Coming soon to a midway near
They never seem to tire; their contortions grow more grotesque
as they parade before the world with bells and whistles, high-wire
acts, sword-swallowing feats, freak shows... one act bumping into
another, faster and faster... now you see it, now you don't... grinning
barkers motioning from the racuous celebration whirling beneath
the big tent... tanks and gun-ships, bombs and blood.
I am dumbfounded as people in this country clamor for tickets
to the obscene, pornographic performance of this hideous group.
I cannot understand why leaders of other nations stand by, enthralled
- with neither the courage nor the decency to yank the curtain before
this murderous bunch shows up with their next act and brings the
entire international house down.
Later, when the stench of bloated corpses can no longer be ignored,
they'll say they didn't know. But they knew. We all knew. Dick Cheney,
Vulcans' production manager and Paul Wolfowitz, dance director,
published the show's program in 1992 with their "Defense Planning
Guidance," wherein they called for preemptive military action against
friend and foe alike, to establish and maintain the U.S. as the
sole global superpower.
Fortunately, this act flopped. But the Vulcans didn't go away.
They merely backed off and waited in the wings while refining their
for world domination and looking for a lead singer for their
In addition to an "event on the scale of Pearl Harbor" to jump-start
their strategy, they needed a front man - an arrogant doppleganger
so shallow and eaten up with hubris that he could easily be convinced
of his God-like superiority, and would have no qualms about the
genocide necessary to reduce the world population and to achieve
their goal of a new world order in which no nation dared challenge
They needed an Orwellian fool, one willing to debase himself -
unable to discern reality from fantasy. But more important, they
needed one who could successfully captivate a gullible populace
by cloaking acts of inhuman brutishness in words like "freedom,"
"democracy," "liberation," "God," and "compassion."
That man was George W. Bush. And he hit the stage in a dead run
- a rapper, a moon-walker, a whirling dirvish of death. He's on
a killing rampage, and any American with the perception of an 8-year-old
knows he must be stopped. Sooner rather than later. That's why we
have a Constitution, a Congress - a watchdog media. It's time for
the madness to stop - before the terrorism and evil we are spreading
in the name of freedom metastisizes further, and we are drawn onto
massive global killing fields from which there is no escape.
Later, some will say, "We didn't know what they were doing to
our children... we were just supporting our troops... If only the
media had told us - had shown us what was going on - we would have
done something to stop it."
But they will know in their hearts that the time to have stopped
it was before it started - the instant the first big lie was told.
They will know that on Nov. 2, when they bought tickets for four
more years of madness, more than 1,200 Americans had already been
brutally slaughtered, more than 9,000 Americans injured or maimed
for life, and more than 100,000 innocent Iraqi men, women and children
destroyed. And all for lies. For greed. For power.
The media has been literally yelling about what we are doing in
Iraq - just not the U.S. media. We have no excuse for not knowing
about the atrocities of Guantanamo Bay, the torture and murders
at Abu Ghraib, the mass killings of civilians in Fallujah and countless
other Iraqi towns and cities. We cannot help but know that most
people in this stricken country have no electricity, no water, no
food, no medicine - that our troops have been ordered to shoot on
sight any male between the ages of 15 and 50 whether or not he is
armed - that hospitals and clinics were first on the list of targets
and that aid groups and ambulances were stopped at checkpoints.
I cannot judge if Bush, or even the Vulcans, are evil. However,
although they refuse to be held accountable, evil is being perpetrated
in Bush's name, and under his watch. As Rana Kabbani wrote
in Britain's Guardian newspaper last week, "...the graves of Falluja
speak for themselves."
Kabbani reported that, "Iraqis watch as their homes and mosques
are desecrated by soldiers who shoot injured men in the stomach
in pre-emptive lunacy that mirrors that of their leader." They
and a billion Muslims watched as Americans forbade families from
burying their dead, and allowed stray dogs to gnaw the corpses of
pregnant women and toddlers on the mean streets of what was once
Falluja, during Id al-Fitr, Islam's Holy Feast. No one is taken
in by the lies and arrogance and greed of this racist war."
It is a mystery to me why Americans would vote for four more years
of war crimes. However, while watching a C-Span program on the subject
shortly after the election, I was struck by the answer given by
a sweet-sounding woman from Missouri: "I had no choice but to vote
for Bush," she said almost regretfully. "I was obliged to vote for
him because he was endorsed by God."
Has there ever been a more glaring example of the chasm that grows
wider every day under this administration between "religion" and
"Christianity"? Religious believers who cast their votes were instructed
by their leaders to cast a vote for God or for a man who would ban
the Bible, support not only gay marriage, but drive-through abortions
and killing babies for stem cell research. Verily, this deeply religious
woman, and millions like her, had no choice but to vote for Bush.
Perhaps that is why so many Christians are weeping.
So, as Stinky and the Vulcans head for that fantastical midway
and begin rehearsing for their next number entitled, "To Iran -
and Beyond!" just remember even an 8-year-old knows instinctively
that the coming attraction transcends comic-book horror. It's the
real thing. And it's e-e-e-e-v-u-l.
Sheila Samples is an Oklahoma freelance writer and a former
civilian US Army Public Information Officer. She is a regular contributor
for a variety of Internet sites. Contact her at firstname.lastname@example.org.