Ed. Note: Ms. Shay, our token Republican and proud
resident of George W. Bush's former hometown, agreed to write for us only with the
stipulation that no editorial hands touch her words. Thus we publish this, her latest
column (see bottom of page for complete list), exactly as it came in over our email
transom.
So much news of such a profoundly positive sort that poor Ora can hardly catch her breath. Shed a tear for the departing John Ashcroft--he of the red-white- and-blue Patriot Act and such a wondrous sensitivity to the exposed female bosom, but we know the folks in Missouri will be glad to have him and his lovely baritone singing voice back. But hardly a day passes after Mr. Ashcroft's resignation and the President is, with his usual instinctive alactrity is RIGHT on the case, appointing his trusty White House counsel, Sr. Alberto Gonzales as replacement, realizing that we don't need just a good lawyer running the so-called Justice Department (which after all is still filled with closet Clintonistes). We need a great lawyer, one for example who, seeing America faced with immanant destruction by global bands of deeply, deeply misguided Muslim, realized that in such perilous times antiquated internationalist documents such as the Geneva Convention should no longer apply either to our troops or what they, facing the enemy in the field, find it necessary to do to get vital information out of prisoners, and he courageously so advised the President who of course immediately, with his usual instinctive alacrity, acted on his advice and so informed Rummy et al. (I, as one who annually vacations in the South of France, know how the world reacted to the pictures from Abu Ghraib, but, my dears, what no one seems to have thought about is what information vital to the security of our troops in Iraq and elsewhere and the very survival of the United States must have been gotten out of those prisoners as they were shown a thing or two about good ol' Yankee ingenuity). And let us not forget the line on the estimable and wondrously Hispanic-American Mr. Gonzales's resume just above the line that reads "Counsel to the President": Staff Lawyer, Enron. Truly another example of the President's courage. When he finds a person of quality, especially one of color, he does not hesitate to promote that person to the highest levels. As we also see in the encouraging rumors re a replacement for the sadly ailing Chief Justice Rehnquist. (How he will be missed! Who can forget his courageous handling of that rat's nest of an election in 2000, quickly bringing order and good governance out of chaos?) In case you've not heard, the world on the street in D.C. is that the person whom the President really, really wants to be the new Chief Justice is (you ready?) Mr. Clarence Thomas, his own self. The judicial branch is ours. The executive branch is ours. The legislative branch is ours. With such encouraging news filling the airwaves, you can understand why, as I sit here on my patio typing away on my Centrino-Dell, surveying my St. Augustine lawn and in the middle-distance my lovely water feature from Home Depot with the sun-lit sand receding to the distant horizon, itself punctuated by drilling rigs and busy little oil pumps, I have this enormous smile on my Permian Basin face! Suggestion, dear Reader: As my desktop wallpaper I have installed the post-election map of the good old U.S. of A., showing this two little embarrassing blue smudges on either coast, forming a kind of weak parentheses around the wondrous, massive, and massively red heartland of the homeland. I urge you to install the same on your computer. It is a real pick-me-up reminder anytime you happen to begin dwelling too long on the negative news that the liberal media still insists on spewing out as if nothing had changed following yesterday's glorious election results. As Satchel Paige, another admirably talented person of color, once observed, "You ain't seen nothin' yet!" END
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128 pages of the best satire
from 6 years of Magellan's Log. Well beyond chortles, Is It
Empire Yet? verges on the downright hilarious. "Swiftian," says
one reader. "Rib-splitting," says another. "Brilliantly, uproariously
offensive to all right-thinking Republicans," says yet another. 128 pp. Paperback.
8.5" x 11". ISBN 0-9767821-3-8. $21.95:
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2003 Texas Chapbook Press
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