Bad, Bad, Bad Day...
Bad #1: Mosque shooting.
Bad #2: No water.
Bad #3: Rumsfeld.
...
To make matters worse, Rumsfeld is in Iraq. It’s awful to see him strutting all over the place. I hate the hard, smug look that seems plastered on his face… some people just have cruel features. The reaction to seeing him on tv differs from the reaction to seeing Bremer or one of the puppets. The latter are greeted with jeers and scorn. Seeing Rumsfeld is something else - there’s resentment and disgust. It feels like he’s here to add insult to injury - you know, just in case anyone forgets we’re an occupied country.
And now he’s going to go back to America and give a speech about how he doesn’t know what anyone is talking about when they say ‘chaos’ (*he* was safe in the middle of all his bodyguards)… how electricity and water are functioning (after all, his air-conditioner was working *fine*)… how the people are gloriously happy and traffic is frequently at a stand-still because the Iraqis are dancing in the streets… how the ‘armed forces’ are cheerful and *grateful* to be on this heroic, historical mission… how kids wave at him, troops cheer him, dogs wag their tails in welcome and doves hover above his head…
To hell with him.
And no. I'm not whining - I'm ranting. You can't see me right now, but I'm shaking my fist at the computer screen, shaking my fist at the television, and heaping colorful, bilingual insults on Rumsfeld's head (hope the doves crap on him)... I'm angry.
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