My friends, I’ve been dabbling about in some scary, murky waters (and I’m not talking about the muddy water from our well, either.) Wikipedia does its best to provide fact-based accounts of incidents like the Waco tragedy and the MOVE fire in Philadelphia. (Plus they have avenues for discussion where readers can dispute the bias of an article.) Maybe the sheer volume of these accounts have finally tipped my bullshit meter into the red. Maybe reading the Downing Street memo finally did it. Maybe it’s a combination of the bipolar protein in my head, the phase of the moon, and the last six months of my own slow personal awakening. Either way, it’s time for a memo to George, just to get some of this off my chest. (I just sent it, and surprisingly, I do feel a lot better. Not that it will matter much. If I thought someone would actually read it, I might be worried. As it is, I don’t think it’s a big deal.)
Dear Mr. Bush,
The resurgence of the implications of the Downing Street memo in US news does not appall me. It doesn’t even surprise me. It does sadden me profoundly, and it has triggered a need to communicate with you, the president of my country, how incredibly disappointed I am in your ethics and in your lack of faith in the American people, not to mention the system of democracy that you so often tout as your lodestone.
I am ashamed to say that I have gotten used to turning a blind eye to your administration. After you were re-elected last November, I am ashamed to say that I sighed heavily in resignation and tried to forget about it, because the truth was simply to painful to admit to myself. The truth is that I live in a country governed not by democratic leaders but by a not-so-secret oligarchy bordering on behind-the-scenes totalitarianism.
You lied to us. Yeah, I know, it’s not the first time, and it probably won’t be the last. But the facts show that when you were spouting all that nonsense about finding a diplomatic option, you and your administration were just waiting for the right moment to go to war.
As I write this, I am fighting my own battle against righteous fury. I am trying to remain reasonable. I am trying to remain open to any justifications you might have for this action. But I have a feeling what we’re going to hear is something along the lines of, “It was best for the country.” Or “You want the truth? You can’t handle the truth.” Or some other appropriately patronizing response to your dishonesty.
If that’s your reasoning, Mr. Bush, then you have repeatedly violated the trust of those who put you in office. You have proven that you don’t trust the American people to come to reasonable conclusions when presented with the facts of a matter, or – worse, perhaps? that you choose not to listen to the voice of the American people at all, when it gets in the way of your choices. That’s not a democracy. That’s a dictatorship – or didn’t you pay attention to societal structures when they covered that in college?
I have my own reasons for distrusting the “democratic process” but you know, for now, it’s the best we’ve got. But you, Mr. President, you have demonstrated, time and time again, the most untrustworthy aspects of human nature – and what frightens me most is that you are free to continue this behavior for as long as you and your party remain in office.
My work is primarily administrative. One of my functions is to help process our corrective action system, so that when we see problems, we take action to prevent them from recurring. My sense of helplessness tells me that I can’t take any action here that would really make a difference. Nonetheless, I find myself unable to sit by this morning and say nothing, as I have done for so long.
You are not a president, not in your heart. In your heart, you’re a king, a monarch, and you expect to be obeyed. So as one of your subjects, I kneel here before your throne, built on blood and lies, and I beg you to step down. Abdicate. It’s not too late to atone for what you’ve done. It’s not too late to save your conscience. In quiet moments, I pray that you can still hear its voice. I know that you have sworn an oath as president, but you have already violated that oath. Instead of maintaining this position of power that you have used so badly, I beg you to consider all the implications of your actions, globally and in your own soul, and step down. Take Mr. Cheney with you. Your presence, and your collaboration with the people who are even now subverting our democracy, is killing the vibrant, multi-faceted soul of America.
I write this with respect for your humanity and intelligence. Please let go of this power that you have corrupted so terribly, and that has obviously corrupted you. You can still be a hero. Step down.
(I figured if they need to find me, I might as well make it easy for them to put me on their list of subversives.)