Good morning, Netizens...
When I crawled forth from my burrow hidden in the back garden of the Virtual Ballroom this morning before the sun rose, the worst mental image I encountered in my preliminary ramblings, was F. Scott Fitzgerald's infamous recipe for a turkey cockail which goes something like: to one large turkey add one gallon of vermouth and a demijohn of Angostura bitters. Shake.
Usually the first fortune that jumps up at me each morning more or less seems to set the taste of things yet to come, and perhaps that is as Nature provides for my continuing education. No sooner than I had recovered from that visual image of a turkey served on ice than this morning's David Horsey cartoon absolutely left me gasping for air.
You'll have to pardon me if the picture of Dick Cheney donned in leathers extolling the virtues of torture leaves me laying on the floor laughing my ass off.
If I am not careful the combined influences of Sarah Palin (who is writing a book while plotting her political re-electionI am told) and Rush Limbaugh who sometimes sounds as if his Thesaurus is broken in pieces on the radio room floor, these two starlets of the ultra-conservative right someday will take me to task for laughing at the Great God Cheney, the perfect mind of the George W. Bush foreign policy gaffe machine.
However, in the back room of some Machiavellian conservative political bar room in the future I envision Cheney just as he appears this morning in Horsey's cartoon, while in the corner Condi Rice plays Ragtime on a spinet piano with most of the ivory keys missing. Who is to say that might not be the perfect relationship of the political future?