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From the Files of the RJ's Surrealist Research Bureau

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From the Files of the RJ's Surrealist Research Bureau

Does former President Bush Know his ass from a hole in the ground? A TRJ/SRB Special Investigative Report

In reading former President Bush’s (the younger) recent memoir Decision Points I was struck by Chapter 7’s labored attempts to dispel the persistent rumors that he couldn’t tell his own ass from a hole in the ground. He opens the section by first relating the history and very definition of “holes;” from the 1950s Mohole Project he segues into the Pacific Ocean’s Marianas Trench and Challenger Deep, the earth’s deepest point, with stops along the way at famous pits such as the volcanic boreholes of Iceland, which inspired Jules Verne’s classic tale Journey to the Center of the Earth.

Moving on briskly he delves into the mysteries and wonders of the Anus, from Gluteus Maximus to the spectral splendors of the sphincter as he endeavors to prove his mastery of the subject, though this reviewer found his lengthy expositions on the colon and digestive system both unnecessary and almost certainly ghost-written, likely copied from some high school biology textbook.

He goes on to quote his mom, Barbara Bush, on the ridicule and humiliation he had endured as a child being teased by the other children at the schoolyard. They’d often poke two holes in the playground at recess and ask him which one was his ass and which one was a hole in the ground. Poor Georgie never seemed to guess correctly and would often run home in tears. “You’ll be the decider one day,” she tells him soothingly.

It was this inability to differentiate between the two that led to his “lost period” of drinking and drugs, relieved only when meeting his soon-to-be wife Laura, who patiently over time led him to “the way” by reading him aloud countless tomes on both subjects, from Dr. Seuss’s Mole in the Hole to Wm. S. Burrough’s Queer. Rejuvenated, he invested heavily in oil drilling, driven by the need to drill ever deeper, each new hole dug reinforcing his growing conviction that he, George W. Bush, not only knew the difference between the two but was rapidly becoming an authority!

He then goes on to defend his naming of so many top “assholes” in his administration, from Veep Dick Cheney (widely recognized as El Supremo Asshole numero uno) to Sec’y of Defense Rumsfeld, who himself, when asked the difference between his own ass and a hole in the ground, famous replied ramblingly, “There’s the known and the unknown and you know you don’t know one and the other, though not unknown, becomes known only through the identification of the unknown.”

The theory that the entire Gulf war was simply an excuse to drill more test holes gets short shrift from Dubya. “I can drill all I want right here in the US of A” he says, “and the fact that the Middle East has more than half the world’s supply of assholes never entered into it.” To his credit he’s quick to recognize an asshole like Osama Bin Laden; however he can’t seem to pick correctly whichever hole Osama’s been hiding in. “All those holes n’ caves in Tora Bora all look alike to me,” he admits.

Traveling down life’s Hershey Highway has certainly been a wild Mr. Toad’s Ride for Bush 44; however Decision Points still left this reviewer unsatisfied. I suspect we’ll never know the final answer to the question until someone finally has the courage to confront him on camera and say, “Mr. President, here’s two holes in the ground. Now, would you please tell the American public which one is your ass and which one’s a hole in ground?” Sadly, I suspect he’ll pick the wrong one.

Afterward: Astute readers may have already surmised it’s time for my annual April Fool’s Day article, and yes, this is it. I never truly read Decision Points. However, idly browsing through the new books section of the Sandpoint Library recently I picked up a copy, flipped it open and without thinking, perused a few sentences before the true horror of what I had done immolated me like a flame. I immediately flung down the offending book and did the only thing a rational, honest man could ever do. Grasping my lower jaw with my right hand and my upper jaw with my left hand I began painfully pulling my skin away from my body until all my scalp was loosened and met at the nape of my neck. In disgust, I cast my bloody face upon the floor and walked out of the library and drove home to Clark Fork to expatiate my great Sin. 

So I remain, monk-like and effervescent to this day. However, I’ve checked Lost and Found and no one’s turned in my face. If anyone has it, would you please turn it in? 

‘til next time, All Homage to Xena!

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Jody Forest Jody Forest When he's not hidden behind the palatial gates of his Dover estate, Casa de Bozo, Jody is out using outdated and corny pickup lines on various gullible women.

Tagged as:

books, assholes, President George Bush, Decision Points, holes

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