My son, the war criminal

From the NYT, in a story about blind optimism in the face of looming disaster:

Mr. Bush has been saying for months that he believes Republicans will keep control of the House and the Senate, and he is not changing his tune now, even if it means taking the rare step of rebuking his own father.
In an interview shown Sunday on ABC News, Mr. Bush was asked about a comment by the first President Bush, who said this month that he hated to think about life for his son if Democrats took control of Congress. “He shouldn’t be speculating like that, because he should have called me ahead of time,” the president said, “and I’d tell him they’re not going to.”

But Poppy Bush knows the score. As the parent of a grown but still infantile son on a one-way, petal-to-the-metal streak toward international ignominy of historic proportions, George Herbert Walker Bush has shown remarkable restraint. Until now.

As he and the Bush Matriarch sat back and watched for six years, keeping a stiff upper lip, the product of their loins has almost singlehandedly destroyed the democratic government of the greatest country on Earth, started two wars, destroyed American credibility and standing all over the world, made a hash out of international diplomacy, let New Orleans drown and stood by idly while North Korea tests its nukes.

I can just hear them over their poached extra-large eggs on toast corners at breakfast:

GHWB: (from behind his newspaper as Faux News jabbers endlessly in the background) “Barb, he’s at it again. Boy just signed that torture bill and erased habeas corpus in this country as we know it.”

BM: “Well, that will show all those meanie blogger-people. I say lock ‘em up and throw away the key. They’re all such low-lifes, anyway.”

GHWB: “But honeybuns, the right to a fair trial and all that stuff are what the U.S. Constitution stands on. This could be serious.”

BM: Georgie will handle it, Poppy. He has Karl. And that Mexican boy, whats-his-name, his attorney-whatever.”

GHWB: “His numbers are mighty low, sweetums. The rabble is gettin’ rowdy.”

BM: “The rabble are, George. Are getting rowdy.”

GHWB: “Whatever. It just has me a little worried, Babs. The Iraq thing, that’s not lookin’ good, either. I told him it was gonna be a mess, but would he listen to me? No. He just ran right out and did it anyway. Wanted to smack ‘im for that. Bandar-butt and I both told him that Saddam, the old fox, didn’t have anything to do with 9/11.”

BM: “Oh, he knew that, poopsie. Georgie only did it for you, dear. He’s a good boy.”

GHWB: “Well, the torture thing on top of the Iraq thing and the Katrina thing, not to mention the Abramoff thing, the Kenny-boy thing and the ‘My Pet Goat’ thing, and now the torture thing and the North Korea thing ...”

BM: “You worry too much, Poppy. Eat your egg before it gets cold.”

GHWB: (sighing and rustling his paper) “Well, at least he’s got Baker on the job again. Jimbo will pull his nuts out of the fire. He did it in Florida, he’ll do it again.”

BM: “That’s the spirit, dear.”

GHWB: “You know Babs, you try to raise ‘em right. Gave GW everything he needed – a good education, his own jet in the National Guard, his own baseball team, a governorship and even the presidency, but he’s just thrown it all back in my face. Now, I’m trying to stay cheerful here, but his poll numbers are in the crapper.”

BM: “George! Your language!”

GHWB: (blustering) “Don’t ‘George!’ me! Now they’re saying he could lose the House majority! Maybe even the Senate! If he loses them, Babs, it’s gonna be real hard on Georgie. Those do-gooder Dems will start all kinds of investigations and subpoena everyone. The shit will hit the fan!”

BM: (snatching the paper out of his hands) “That’s enough, you old fart! Dick and the Mexican boy have it all under control! And you know God’s been talking to Georgie when he's mountain biking.” (Tosses a bottle of pills at him) “Take your Prozac, dear. Your face is getting red.”

GHWB: (sighs and pops a pill) “I don’t know, sweetbuns. I hate to think about life for Georgie if the Democrats take control of Congress.”

BM: “Now, stop worrying, Poppy. The Diebold people are on that one. And besides, Jebby’s ready to step in and take over if ... well ... you know. If Georgie blows it again.”

GHWB: (brightening) “That’s true. Jebby’s a good boy too, isn’t he, Mommy.”

BM: “George Herbert Walker Bush! ‘Mommy!?’ I knew you and that skinny little rat-poodle Nancy had something going on the side! I’ll ‘Mommy’ you, you...”

Thanks, Poppy.