The window to this soul is disturbing

It's said poetry is the window to the soul. And now we get a peek at George W. Bush's soul, and it has a troubling undercurrent. The poem, penned by the lonely leader, is for his wife:

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Oh my, lump in the bed
How I've missed you.
Roses are redder
Bluer am I
Seeing you kissed by that charming French guy.
The dogs and the cat, they missed you too
Barney's still mad you dropped him, he ate your shoe
The distance, my dear, has been such a barrier
Next time you want an adventure, just land on a carrier.

Okay, so it's awful. What guy hasn't written a dopey poem when the person he loves is away? That's normal, and almost sweet. Even if you are allegedly in charge of the most powerful country in the world. But a few ideas contained within this poem raise some issues.

Oh my, lump in the bed – doesn't indicate a whole lot of respect for Laura, does it? This is along the lines of “the old ball-and-chain,” a superficially effectionate term based on a disrespect of women. Perhaps this seems too politically correct, so let's move on to the more disturbing parts.

Barney's still mad you dropped him, he ate your shoe – it was George who dropped the dog, not Laura. This indicates an inability to take responsibility for one's actions. So it's always someone else who messed up?

Next time you want an adventure, just land on a carrier. – being president is all about the fun and toys? It's all one big life of privilege and entertainment? This is the thinking of someone who views themselves as a prince to be entertained while the proletariat toil in fields for the kingdom.

I swear, the leader of the free world has the mental acuity of a fourteen-year-old.

kherr @ 19:18 CDT | link | politics