Bush 'moved' by visit to wounded Vets

As the Associated Press reported, at the Walter Reed Army Medical Center on Friday, Bush continued "an annual pre-Christmas tradition of comforting soldiers that he began after the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq in 2003." From March 2003 to November 2006, 22,032 U.S. soldiers were wounded in Iraq. Bush met with 38 of them on Friday.

Wow, what a great new Christmas "tradition." If only Bush could be elected president again and again, I'm sure this grand tradition would continue for decades, as the dead and wounded piled up in military graves and hospitals, respectively.

If real life were a zombie movie -- and sometimes I wish it was -- Bush would be the prick who threw grandmothers and children to the undead mob to save his skin for a few more minutes. But he would also get his just desserts in the end, being torn apart by a dozen of the hungriest zombies (some of them those very same grannies and kids) while still conscious, watching them pull out his slimy entrails and lumber away munching his bloody limbs as he's writhing and screaming in agony.

I feel sorry for those soldiers, I really do, especially the amputees. Man, I wish I could know their thoughts when Bush came to their bed side: the little rich boy who got a cushy stateside National Guard assignment during Vietnam; the GOP scion who never had to work a day in his life, or worry about the future. What did they really think of him when they looked into his smirking face, trying but failing to show gravitas? What did they really want to do -- shake his hand, or punch him in the face?

I do like to think Bush has some vestigial conscience that maybe comes into play sometimes, like when he's sleeping. I like to hope he sweats and cries like a little baby at night, seeing those wounded and dead soldiers in his sleep, at last seeking their just revenge, coming to claim his health, his limbs, his life. Over and over and over again, all night, night after night. I like to think it gets so bad that Laura now has to sleep in another room, that the Secret Service detail knows but keeps it to themselves.

Alas, life does not offer nearly so many opportunities for justice as art. I'm sure those wounded soldiers at Walter Reed were all "yes, sir," "fine, sir," and "Merry Christmas, sir." I guess I can't blame them for that. And I'm sure Bush sleeps like a baby, the very picture of mental and physical well being. I blame him like hell for that.