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Peeve Farm
Breeding peeves for show, not just to keep as pets
  Blog \Blôg\, n. [Jrg, fr. Jrg. "Web-log".
     See {Blogger, BlogSpot, LiveJournal}.]
     A stream-of-consciousness Web journal, containing
     links, commentary, and pointless drivel.


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Wednesday, January 29, 2003
01:16 - It was all just a dream

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This morning, when I woke up, it was with great startlement. I'd been immersed in one of those dreams that seemed utterly plausible when in progress, and even managed to retain much of its plausibility long into the day.

It started with Bush, or maybe one of the White House advisers-- actually, it was probably Rumsfeld-- on some interview show like Face the Nation. He looked tired, haggard, hunted; it was the day after the SOTU, just as in real life, but for all intents and purposes you'd think the speech had been one of surrender.

The interviewer asked a few questions, beating around the bush; the interviewee dodged them without making eye contact. Finally, whoever it was holding the microphone said, point blank: Are we going to war in Iraq?

And Rumsfeld, or Fleischer, or whoever-it-was, said: No.

This caught the interviewer by surprise. He asked for elaboration.

"We just can't go to war in good conscience," Rumsfleischerbush said. "We can't ignore the fact that so many of our own people are demonstrating so loudly outside these very doors, demanding that we stop."

I suspect I was lying in a pool of sweat at this point. But he went on:

"We still believe war is absolutely justified-- all our evidence and intelligence still tells us that the only way to secure peace in the Middle East and for the American people is to remove Saddam Hussein from power, eliminating the threat of weapons of mass destruction falling into the hands of al Qaeda. We believe that failing to act against him right now would be a grievous mistake and an act of reckless endangerment of our people bordering on high treason.

"But... we simply can't allow ourselves to go into the history books of future American and European children as being a government, supposedly elected by the people, who steadfastly refused to listen to those very people when their voices rang out the loudest they had done in decades. We cannot take an action that, even if it is justified by our internal classified intelligence, will be widely viewed by the public as an imperialistic power play or a grab for oil. We cannot abide the hypocrisy of our own nation for having nuclear weapons while we forbid Iraq and North Korea from having that same power. We cannot deny that action by the US military in a foreign country, no matter what the justification, is morally equivalent to any terrorist attack perpetrated against our own nation. Public opinion must be held in higher regard than the strategic recommendations of our most senior advisers and experts, and must absolutely trump any prior pledge by our President. The President serves the people, and he cannot serve the people unless he obeys their momentary demands before obeying the mandate of defending the Constitution that he assumed at his inauguration.

"Never let it be said that we dared to claim to know what was best for our own people. Never let it be said that we allowed our own privileged, insider information on world affairs take precedence over the clearly expressed wishes of huge crowds of our citizens and those of our brother nations in Europe, thronged in the streets of the world's cities. Never let it be said that the US Government presumed to know more about how to end terrorism than the university students of the world did. Never let it be said that we did what we knew was right instead of what our loudest people asserted was right."

I remember seeing news reports covering this exchange. I remember seeing unbelievable outpourings of support gush forth from the streets formerly trod by A.N.S.W.E.R. I remember seeing Bush's approval rating soar, the plummeting to zero of warbloggers' opinion of him being muffled to inconsequence by the immense flowering of goodwill from the Left.

I remember blogging about it, but I don't remember what I said. I just remember the onset of a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, along with the strange unaccountable desire to move to Montana.

It was about at this stage that I woke up.

I tell you... no more generic-label pickles before bed for me.


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© Brian Tiemann