(some satire from myrln, in the spirit of a Yippie heart)
George Dubya’s War Prayer
Dear Lord, thank you for he’ping protect the oil fields and get them in the hands of those who rightly should have them, meaning me ‘n’ Dickie.
And Lord, now I ask your he’p in making my subjects…hee-hee-hee…I mean, my people…you know, the electoralites…understand why I had to send their sons and daughters to get killed to secure that oil (and thank you for letting me keep my two little girls safe at home where they oughta be sometimes, I know how partial you are to them, being blonde and all — them, I mean, not you).
And Lord, I hope you understand how I simply had to lie my ass off about Saddam’s nucular weapons and such in order to get folks whipped up in a froth so’s we could get this war on. I mean, it’s not like I really broke any Commandment since Saddam’s not a neighbor of mine (like Mr. Rogers was) and since he ain’t Christian anyway but one of them heathen towelheads we got to deal with cuz you stuck the oil over in that desert ‘steada here in the good ole US of A where it rightly belonged. Not that I’m criticizing or nothing. I know you got a soft spot for that Middle East, what with you sending your own Son there and all and getting him killed the way you done. (But not for oil, heh-heh.)
And Lord, I thank you for giving me this war. It sure beats the shit (oops, sorry) outta anything Jeb’s got or ever will have (‘cepting his Florida thing hanging down at the bottom of the country).
So I guess that’s it for now, Lord. This is George Dubya Bush, your Commander in Chief in common with you, sending along a salute and my best wishes for all you undertake on my behalf (and Dickie’s) now and in the future which I’m sure will suit me ‘n’ mine just fine. Talk to you again soon.