The Political Haunted House

It's not too late. We can still do this for Hallowe'en.

I was reading Stephen Colbert's guest editorial in the New York Times,* (here's the link to it, it's hilarious), and the image that stuck with me the longest was his vision of Dick Cheney driving a tractor through the Times newsroom while drinking sweet crude oil from Keith Olbermann's skull. That stayed with me for days, and though I'm a flaming liberal, not only could I imagine it, it was something I'd like to see. It got me to thinking: here it is the time of year every radio station and/or charity group--wait a minute, aren't they the same thing?--trots out any old abandoned warehouse/church/crack-house** and turn it into a "Haunted House." (OoooOOOOoo, spoo-oo-ooky!) The only people who like these paper-mache nightmares are kids in the narrow slice of life from 8 to12, and frat-boys who can get a cheap feel and blame it on the volunteers dressed half-heartedly as ghouls and trasvestite vampires.

And seeing as it's the start of a new political season, AND Hallowe'en season--wait a minute, aren't they the same thing?--why not COMBINE the two into your very own

POLITICAL HAUNTED HOUSE!! (thundercrack!)

a concept that just drips insincerity

But what (I hear you cry) WHAT would you PUT into the Political Haunted House (tc)? Bwa-ha-haa! Funny you should ask...Step this way..lead with your left or your right, it doesn't matter...and mind the broken step, the troll might grab you.. (Back off, Ron Paul! Put down that torch!!) Now we'll start in the foyer (yes, there's lots of cob-webs which indicates inactivity, but we're trying to make this an exact replica of a legislative chamber!). Any direction you go is better than no direction at all, and if you know that, why aren't YOU running for office? Oh, you hear screaming? Pay it no mind. That's Howard Dean.

Off with you now.

The Dick Cheney Halliburton Bunker Maze (and Shooting Gallery)- It's a House of Mirrors buried deep underground in the moral and physical swamp-land that was Washington, D.C., but now more resembles a quick-sand field. Good! It can't go to Hell fast enough. Step inside the distorting House of Mirrors, 'cause if you happen to shoot somebody, you'll only be shooting yourself. And if you don't like what you see in one mirror, there'll be one you like somewhere down the line. See how many dead-ends you can hit and still bluster that it's the way to go, anyway. There's a time-limit, but don't get the clock-ticking confused with your pace-maker. Either way, time is limited, so spend your capital--political and financial--as fast you possibly can. Who knew that when you said you weren't going to go to Viet-Nam because you had "better things to do," it was planning how to destroy THIS country, instead! Good job....Dick.

The Emperor George W. Bush Quo Vadis Vault- A man of many talents, "W." fiddles while effigies of American landmarks, made up of bricks of cash, go up in flames. One can't help wonder that, though he takes his marching orders from the "Other Father," the tableau looks more like the Other Place, with the Commander-in-Cheat as it's...Commander-in-Cheat. It's actually a good thing that if we're going to go to Hell as a Nation, his tax-cuts were just enough that we can buy a hand-basket to go in. And they're flammable. The only thing that could douse the all-consuming flames would be a level-5 hurricane--and we know how effective he is against those.

The Condy Rice Ti-tanker Room - If you're going to be on a sinking ship, it might as well bear your own name. The oil-tanker Condoleeza Rice (I'm not making that up) is seen going down for the first and last time, while on the prow Condy, Rummy and Paul Wolfowitz, their arms extended, scream "We're Queen of the World!" And when they go under, the only open arms they'll find will be their own. But of course, I'm being facetious--they''ll be on the board of directors of an oil company in the very near-future. Trouble is, with their wrong-way of looking at the world, they see a sinking-ship as a prelude to deep-ocean drilling.

Rudy Giuliani's House of Rubble: Six years after 9-11, the only thing that's been built on the site is a clueless campaign for President by the Mayor who thought the best place to put a disaster center was the place that had been bombed years before, and would be a crater years later. We won't even bring up the cross-dressing, the shameless exploitation of a national tragedy, or the rotating mistresses. The only reason he's running for President is no one'll give him a job in New York. And if the best thing you can say about him is "He went to a lot of funerals," it makes you think. But this room does exactly the same thing its namesake does--blow a lot of smoke.

The Hillary Rodham Temple of Dominazons: Every Haunted House should have something REALLY scary, kids. And nothing scares males (and some females) more than a woman with power over your life...or your career...or your government. In this little tableau, all the deep-seated insecurities from Mommy-fixations and parent domination are given a damn good prodding--This will HURT! (Whack!) But it's GOOD for you! (Whack!) And my health-care will cover any permanent DAMAGE (WHACK!)--your life will be regulated, curfews fixed, and you'll be "carded" for everything, while personal information is gathered and distributed. Sort of like now, but with a really bitter den-mother where an "all-hat-no-cattle" cowboy used to be. Four years of "Mommy, may I..." sounds bad, but think of the First Husband (which implies there could be a second!)--he gets the karmic experience of finding out what it's like to be on your knees in the Oval Office. Payback is a bitch!

The John McCain Tilting Balance Room--It's tough to keep your balance when the room turns on a whim--lurching to the left--lurching to the right. You begin to think that the best position to take is low to the ground...but WHOOPS!..there goes your balance off in another direction. But see, that's the funny thing about tilting rooms. They start off balanced, but if you make a move, everything shifts with you, and you usually end up over-compensating and looking like a fool...or flat on your ass. Whoops! Off to the right, again! Not to worry. This installation is temporary, at best.

The Alberto Gonzales Memorial "Crafts" Room: The only thing different from when he was A.G. are a few more cob-webs, not only on that unused Constitution, but high up in the rafters. But don't worry, the place is still doing a cracking business, just not with the same "fresh zeal" when everything was a new experience. Why, the world was your gulag with everything from psychological brow-beating in a hospital room to full-on electrified alligator clips. Come on in and desecrate a sacred text, play with the dogs (or their feces) or practice your simulated sexual positions. It's a party, and the music is loud and 24/7! Need a break? Step into the relaxing water-boarding room (it's like bobbing for apples, only you're the apple!) Be sure to get directions to this one, because the location is a secret. It's quick! It's painful! It's unconstitutional! (And as a parting gift, you get a web-page of black-hooded memories). The Alberto Gonzales Memorial "Crafts" Room: He may be gone, but his legacy lingers on--you know how slow the kangaroo-court system is!

The Al Gore Conversation Pit and Aquarium (Sunken)--Yes, it's underwater. Yes, you have to go in there. But at least, you don't have to LIVE in there...not for forty years, anyway. Yes, the price of global warming will be lots of developments that might as well go by the name of "Atlantis," for all the good it'll do ya. You think those climatologists who doubt the ice caps are melting are all wet? Wait a year, they WILL be! But you can help stop it by buying "carbon credits." After you've bought all those carbon credits, all you'll afford for Christmas is a lump of coal in your stocking. Carbon Credits is a lot like buying insurance. You throw a lot of money you may never see again, even if you do get sick. Don't worry, though, you've got a choice: Take the moral high ground now, or scramble for high ground later. In the meantime, I've got some swamp-land to sell ya.

Actually, Swamp-land futures.

Actually, Texas.

Hope you enjoyed your visit to the

POLITICAL HAUNTED HOUSE (thundercrack)

Just remember--it's only for Hallowe'en! What? It's just the same outside the Haunted House?

Ooooooh---SCA-RYY!!

*He was subbing for Maureen Dowd--a writer I just can't get behind. For all her crowing and lambasting of the Bush Administration these days, back during 2000 -election-time, she was one of the lazy reporting bunch who would parrot back the latest mis-characterization of Al Gore's speeches portraying him as an ego that invented everything, when a simple reading of his words--or...you know, research?--would have revealed that it was merely niche-reporting by the scribblen-lumpen, that Dowd and her ilk would just parrot back and howl about over their gin-and-tonics. Meanwhile they kept giving Bush the benefit of the doubt when he proved to be not as stupid as they assumed--and they had a grudging admiration for the unapologetic craveness of his campaign. After he was elected, these reporters were stumbling all over themselves with sober pontifications of "He's very smart--He's smarter than we thought he was--Smart, Verrrry smart!" Now, he's been proven to be the incompetent boob anyone who looked at his record as a businessman knew he would be, and these bandwagon reporters, who a few months ago were still fawning for press credentials and White House Invites have decided that they're now working for the Good of the Nation. Wrong, as always. She may be a leader in the Press Corps, but it's a Corps of lemmings, and chickens. If you want to lead a stampede in no particular direction, send the Maureen's.

** For years, I lived across from the building that was the traditional "haunted house" for one particular Seattle radio station (couKJRgh!). It was originally the site of Children's Hospital. Then The Seattle Police Department turned it into The City Morgue (talk about "cradle to the grave!"). Then, after the Morgue moved (and became a part-time Haunted House), someone got the bright idea to make it an assisted living facility. Someone with a short-term memory problem, no doubt. In fact, they're probably living there now.