Here in Snobville we have a little Revolutionary War-era museum. Every Christmas the museum curator (in his obsessive compulsive way) tries to find groups to decorate the museum for the holidays.
Hold the phone a minute. If you were living in New Jersey in 1777, did you deck the halls with boughs of holly?
Open your history books to Page 10. Oh my. New Jersey was under siege by the British in 1777. The danger zone was everywhere! What makes me think the holly never left the bush?
Which brings us to a different kind of Bush. Look at this, and if you don't vomit, at least you won't be tempted to have too many cookies this evening.
If I didn't even know this woman and her back story, this picture would make me heave. There she sits in front of her designer HOLIDAY tree, with her meticulously-groomed pedigreed animals, beaming as if she holds the key to Peace on Earth.
When really all she probably has is the key to the liquor cabinet.
If you aren't sufficiently sickened by this photo to get yourself through the HOLIDAYS without stuffing your face like a chipmunk, then do this: Go to the White House's official web site and click on "Barney Cam." When I did it, I got the transcript of the most recent conversation our Fearless Leader had with his dogs.
Never has "man's best friend" been more fitting.
If you need the weight control, read the transcript. (I have a feeling the video got yanked because it was YouTube edit candy, oh yes indeed.) Fearless Leader and his beautiful daughters wax poetic over our National Parks.
Our National Parks? You mean the ones with $5 billion in deferred maintenance projects? You mean the ones run by a series of Interior Secretaries from the timber industry? Oh yeah. Those National Parks. Yeah, they're great. So proud and all that.
But what is worse about this little bit of piffle from the White House (its grounds are also a National Park, sez Fearless L.) is that ... excuuuuse me, famille Bushe?
THERE'S A WAR ON, AND YOU'RE CAVORTING LIKE THE ROMANOVS ON RUSSIAN ORTHODOX EASTER.
Lavish decorations. Cutesy lil' doggies. Smiling twins, sober for five minutes.
Gag me with a gazillion-dollar war debt, almost 4,000 dead Americans, Iraq laid waste, Osama still at large, and all but our nation's 400 billionaires staggering toward poverty.
I can think of one National Park that could be maintained much better if the occupants of its house were kicked out in the street by their own pedigreed Scotties.
Yours with 'roid rage,
THE MERLIN OF BERKELEY SPRINGS