The Age of Bush, Part VII: A Square Peg In An Oval Office

[JeffR]

Part VII of a continuing series chronicling the life and times of President George Walker Bush.

Click here for Part I.
Click here for Part II.
Click here for Part III.
Click here for Part IV.
Click here for Part V.
Click here for Part VI.



Part VII: A Square Peg In An Oval Office

It was June 16, 1999. Governor George Walker Bush of Texas was conferring with his advisor Karl Rove in the Governor's Mansion. After a grueling four minutes of policy discussion, Bush was wearying.

"That'll do, Turdy. Call down to the kitchen for some PB and Js and brewskis," he ordered. "Power Rangers is coming on." As Rove headed for the phone, Bush hit the remote, but instead of a cartoon, he saw a man speaking in front of an American flag. Bush changed the channel, only to see the same image. He cursed quietly and changed the channel again, but to no avail. Every channel seemed to be showing the same thing. Bush angrily stabbed the mute button.

As Rove completed his assignment and hung up the phone, Bush yelled, "The hell is this? Where's my fucking cartoon? Who is this asshole and why is he on every channel?"

"I believe that's Al Gore, sir," said Rove.

"Who?"

"The Vice President, sir."

"Well, call the goddamn networks. My show's supposed to be on."

"Maybe we should turn it up and see what's going on first, sir," Rove suggested hesitantly. Bush sighed and unmuted the volume.

"If you entrust me with the presidency, I will marshal its authority, its resources and its moral leadership to fight for America's families. With your help, I will take my own values of faith and family to the presidency to build an America that is not only better off but better," Gore droned. "And that is why today I announce that I am a candidate for president of the United States —"

The television exploded in a shower of sparks as the table lamp Bush had thrown found its mark. "Listen up, Turdblossom," Bush said in a tone of barely contained fury. "We gotta stop this sonofabitch. That horndog Clinton has just about fucked this country beyond recognition with his goddamn peace and prosperity shit, and I'm not gonna sit back and watch this Gore asshole take over. Make some calls. We got some presidentin' to do."

Rove smiled and stepped carefully around the broken glass. "I'm on it, sir," he said.

"And where the hell are my PB and Js?"

"I'm on that too, sir," replied Rove.

With his vague memories of assisting with his father's campaigns back in 1988 and 1992, Bush knew that running for the presidency was hard work. He insisted on writing his announcement speech and choosing the venue by himself, throwing his family and friends and Rove himself into a panic.

Their fears were unfounded. Within days, the speech was ready, and a confident Bush took the stage at Austin's prestigious Exposé Gentlemen's Adult Entertainment on South Congress Avenue. He threw back a couple of shots, squinted out at the hushed crowd, and spoke:

"My fellow folks, today I stand before you surrounded by topless dancers like Champale here – hey, Champale, see you after my speechery – to announce, uh… oh yeah, that I am the candidater guy for President of the US of freakin' A.

Our nation has suffered bigtime under Will Clinton and his sidekick Hal Gore, and I'm here today to say: No more. It's time to restore dignitude and horror back to the White House.

My daddy was President once. If he can do it, so can I. I know it's hard work. It's hard. But it's nowhere near as hard as running to get there, having to talk to stupid people in crappy states like Nebraskawa and South Virginia and pretend you give a shit about their problems. It's all like: Oh, I lost my lousy job and oh, my kids aren't learning how to read good and oh, save me, Governor Bush, save me. And I will look them in the eye and not say a word about how I don't really care about their pitiful lives, because I'm generous like that.

I intend to be President of all Americans, but mostly the evangelicals because they'll believe anything, and also the rich folks because they're running things anyway and it's not smart to piss them off.

My opponent Hal Gore will have all sorts of policy ideas and facts and figures and egghead theories about global warming and stuff, and to him I say: Go bite a fart. Real Americans with their mainstream values and hilarious fear of God don't buy that crap. They want chickens in their pots, prayer and guns in their schools and lots of gasoline.

As President, you're damn right that's what I will give them. Thank you and God bless the Republican Party."

As the primaries approached, Rove's operatives used a clever mix of threats, lying and cheating to sideline longshot GOP hopefuls like Gary Bauer, Orrin Hatch and Elizabeth Dole. But a formidable opponent remained: Senator John McCain. There was also Alan Keyes, of course, but nobody paid any attention to him. Bush, furious at the polling data in the run-up to New Hampshire, demanded that Rove do something. Rove explained that McCain had spent five years in a Hanoi prison camp, so of course everyone knew he'd make a swell President and it would be dangerous to ever say anything bad about him.

Results from the New Hampshire Primary were ominous, with McCain beating Bush 48% to 30%. Scared for his job and his personal safety, Rove devised a plan. His nimble push-polling put the word out to South Carolina voters that McCain had not only fathered a mixed-race baby out of wedlock, but that he routinely listened to the Wu-Tang Clan while eating chitlins off the naked buttocks of Satan. It was a high-stakes move, but naturally, Southern Republicans ate it up and asked for more. McCain folded like a cheap suit and Bush romped to the nomination in Philadelphia, choosing the gregarious, common-touch Dick Cheney as his running mate.

Next up was Al Gore. With a devious strategy of grasping the issues and pointing to his solid, long political track record, Gore did everything he could to look smart, often a fatal mistake in American politics. Bush seized his opening, mocking Gore in the debates with taunts of "Sez you!" and "Oh, yeah?" and "At least my running mate's not a Jew!" while Gore sighed, droned on and generally bored viewers to tears with his ludicrous claims to have invented the wheel and been the model for the title character in Ben Hur.

Bush was dazzling on the stump throughout the fall, assuring voters that as President, he would ban abortion, outlaw the speaking of French on American soil, give each middle class American family their own Mexican slave, make flag burning a capital crime, and vigorously defend the nation from Celine Dion, whatever the cost. His poll numbers rose steadily.

Election Day dawned over a divided America. There were the Luddites who insisted an intelligent person should be President. There were Jews for Buchanan. There was the vocal contingent who had long dreamed of having a rumpled consumer advocate long past his best-before date in charge. There were solid, mainstream, family values Americans who, of course, wanted Bush. And finally, there was the roughly 50% of eligible voters who couldn't be bothered to have an opinion at all and stayed home to watch Cosby reruns.

As the returns began to come in, it was obvious that it would all come down to Florida, a decision voters in the other 49 states had long dreaded. Shortly before 8:00 that evening, some networks called the state for Gore. A flurry of threatening phone calls quickly put a halt to these outrageous claims. By 10:00, the networks declared Florida "undecided". By 2:30 in the morning, they called Florida for Bush. Two hours later, most networks retracted this position and declared the state "hopelessly fucked up beyond repair" with Bush's margin under 2,000 votes.

Days and weeks of recounts and lawsuits followed. Chads were hung and butterflies were scrutinized. Experts opined and people who didn't understand a thing were interviewed by intrepid reporters.

Florida Secretary of State Katherine Harris at one point declared herself the winner. In reprisal, Nader took to the airwaves to declare himself the winner, and to state repeatedly that he saw no difference between the National Socialist Party and the Whigs. Buchanan appeared at a Palm Beach synagogue with a crowd of his staunchest supporters, who hailed him as "Mr. President" before heading off for the Early Bird Special. Gore and Bush, meanwhile, discussed settling the matter with a duel.

But pistols at dawn would not be necessary. On December 12, the United States Supreme Court handed down two decisions, the first declaring that Florida's Supreme Court's recount order was unconstitutional and the second stating simply:

"We find Mr. Gore to be a big yawn and would much prefer to have a beer with George W. Bush. Therefore, under authority we've just decided to grant ourselves, we're making him President and screw what anyone else thinks."

By five votes, George W. Bush had won the Presidency.

Next Thursday, Part VIII: So Much Brush, So Few Vacation Days.

[NanceGreggs]

1. This SHOULD be a book!

:kick: :kick: :kick: :kick: :kick: :kick: :kick:

[JeffR]

2. Last line should read:

"By one vote out of the only nine that would count, George W. Bush had won the Presidency."

And would have, if I were less sluggish.

[JeffR]

3. John Lennon renounced his MBE for just this kind of situation.

I've read.

[bigtree]

4. great chapter, Jeff

:kick: