THE PRESIDENT: Today, as Christian JDAMs tear hundreds of pre-adolescent Arabiac rugrats to pieces, I wanted to take a non-ironic moment to mark the opening day of National Domestic Child Abuse Prevention Month, which was first declared in 1983 by the great populist Ronald Reagan as a means to highlight his noble and high-minded eradication of the countless children's social programs which God told him were so inherently abusive. Nancy and Ronald Reagan led the way for a whole generation of parents by coming up with the cool idea that that best way not to abuse your children is to totally ignore them, a childrearing technique that most Republicans, including Laura and me, have used to to great personal enjoyment, if not effect. Today, in honor of the 20th anniversary of this Gipper-conceived epochal spin, I am pleased to announce that my administration is once again delivering on our annual commitment to issue an intern-penned statement regurgitating the previous year's deeply meaningful platitudes about protecting children. Why? Because I myself could not be more personally concerned about the health and welfare of every last one of God's sweet and innocent little people creatures – whatever its homeland, sex parts, inheritance, or coloredness.

(Silence.)

HA! Gotcha! April Fools!

Man, I really had you people going there for a second. I mean, come on! Who do you think I am? Some baby-kissing politician? No sir. I'm the CEO of White House, Inc. – and I do whatever needs doing to keep profits maximized. Didn't you folks see the half-million pounds of baby fat on the faces on all those still-pubescent Marines I just sent marching into a chemical warzone? And not only were those kids ours, they were actually old enough to be good for something – like contributing to our already robustly healthy economy by toiling on a non-Union assembly line unemcumbered by dumb old efficiency-impairing "safety" regulations. Now as for pretending to give a shit about people under 18 years old, the only benefit I can glean there is maybe picking up a few votes from the bra and tampon set – and honestly, I've got better things to do. Like I always tell Dick, "If we want women, we can go to Tijuana!"

Because at the end of the day, what are children really except midget grown-ups that are still too small to reach the pedals of a GMC Silverado, wrap their hands around the stock of an M-16 or hold their liquor? The differences are more than outweighed by the similarities. I've had children, so I know. Once those twins are old enough to start gumming down Cool Ranch Doritos, you'll be hard pressed to tell ANY difference between what's in their diapers and what you yourself are pinching off in the honey pot.

Of course, some of the more Democratic-minded among us would argue that our nation has an important responsibility to create a "caring environment" in which all children can "flourish" and "reach their full potential." Well that's all well and fine when you're talking about womb boogers and used condoms. But once those little suckers slip outta their mommas as full-fledged people, well I think most Americans agree that any talk of "protecting" and "defending" children is really nothing more than fancy liberal blah-blah code for "we can't wait to take all that money that should be spent building weapons of medium destruction, and piss it away by handing it out to a bunch of pants-wearing lezbo social workers who actually think that it's some kind of crime for daddies to dish out the occasional black eye when those brats are running around his La-Z-Boy screeching like banshees while I'm trying to pay attention to the ninth inning of the Rangers game!

I guess I just don't get all this wanting to set up quotas and discriminate against adults just because some "children" are a little bit younger. When me and Pickles sit down for dinner, do we care whether the third course is veal or beef? Hell, no – so long as we've each got a sharp steak knife, a full bottle of Heinz 57 sauce and some Miracle Whip, it's still a dead cow that we had every right to slaughter and consume – because we outsmarted the sucker because we're alive and it ain't! I mean, where do you draw the line? What is a maggot if not a child fly? When I clean up the piles of two-week-old nacho and margarita vomit outside Laura's powder room window in Crawford, are you telling me I'm supposed to show the maggots preferential treatment just because the flies are mature enough to be able to hightail it out of there before I bust out with the hairspray flamethrower on their asses?

Well, the same goes with people. "Child" or "adult," this administration refuses to discriminate against people based on their age instead of income. Why, I'd appoint a baby to the Supreme Court if I could find one who I was sure would throw a temper tantrum every time a liberal opened his mouth like Scalia or would vote to abolish the separation of church and state like Rehnquist. Besides, any little feller would have to be better than that sour deaf-mute porch monkey Clarence Thomas.

Of course, I must qualify my statement thus far by stressing that while the very concept of childhood is nothing more than a worthless abstraction to me personally, I nevertheless want to emphasize the sancitity of American childhood over those childhoods that are Iraqazoid in nature. If it's American, we're talking about future mute patriots who will blindly follow and financially contribute to a Republican regime. If it's Iraqaeda, we're talking about future terrorists running around making those annoying high-pitched squeals those nutzoid Islamics do when they burn someone in the street.

NOW, THEREFORE, I, GEORGE W. BUSH, President of the United States of America, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Attorney General of the State of Florida, do nevertheless hereby proclaim April 2003 as National Domestic Child Abuse Prevention Month. I want to emphasize to everyone - including Laura - that this is a voluntary program. If you beat the shit out of some smart-mouthed brat, it is not like anything is going to happen to you. But I encourage all Americans to absorb the feel-good-yet-empty political posturing behind this action, and to call talk radio and breathlessly praise me for making our Nation a more promising place for all youthful affluent white folks. Because you know, it takes a village to raise a child... a barb-wire festooned, armed-guard attended 20-foot walled village insulated against the wails of the world's pre-adult rabble who pay daily for the sins of their pagan, AIDS-infested parents.

IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my hand this first day of April, in the year of our one and only true Lord Jesus H. Christ two thousand three, and of the Independence of the United States of America the two hundred and twenty-seventh.

GEORGE W. BUSH

	» E-MAIL THIS PAGE TO A FELLOW REPUBLICAN «
Printing Help