And then we have this parable.
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A Not So Wonderful Life
December 19, 2004
By MAUREEN DOWD
EXTERIOR BRIDGE OVER POTOMAC RIVER - NIGHT
CLOSE SHOT - Rummy is standing by the railing, staring
morosely into the water. The snow is falling hard. Feeling
a tap on his shoulder, he wheels around and wrestles an old
man with wings into a headlock.
OLD MAN: Ouch! Tut, tut. When will you learn that force
doesn't solve everything?
RUMMY: Who the dickens are you?
OLD MAN: Clarence, Angel
First Class. I've been sent down to help you.
RUMMY, squinting: You're off your nut, you old fruitcake.
You can't help me. I was a matinee idol in this town, a
studmuffin. Now everyone's turned on me - Trent Lott, Chuck
Hagel and that dadburn McCain.
CLARENCE: No more self-pity, son. I'm going to show you
what the world would have been like if you'd never been
born.
Clarence, who can fly now, takes Rummy's hand and they soar
over the icy Potomac to the Pentagon. Beneath the glass on
the desk of the defense secretary is a list of members of
Congress and their phone numbers.
RUMMY: Who put that there?
CLARENCE: Sam Nunn. He's the
defense secretary. Sam consults with Congress. Never acts
arrogant or misleads them. He didn't banish the generals
who challenged him - he promoted 'em. And, of course, he
caught Osama back in '01. He threw 100,000 troops into
Afghanistan on 9/11 and sealed the borders. Our Special
Forces trapped the evildoer and his top lieutenants at Tora
Bora. You weren't at that cabinet meeting the day after
9/11, so nobody suggested going after Saddam. No American
troops died or were maimed in Iraq. No American soldiers
tortured Iraqis in Abu Ghraib. No Iraqi explosives fell
into the hands of terrorists. There's no office of
disinformation to twist perception abroad. We're not on the
cusp of an Iraq run by Muslim clerics tied to Iran. Here's
Sam. He's with the chairman of the Joint Chiefs.
GENERAL SHINSEKI: We got some good news today on the
National Guard, sir. Recruiting is up 40 percent. With the
money we saved killing that useless missile defense system,
we up-armored all our Humvees.
RUMMY, fists and jaw clenched: Grrrrrrr...I want to see
Wolfie!
CLARENCE: Sam never hired any of those wacko neocons.
Wolfowitz is a woolly headed professor at the Johns Hopkins
School of Advanced International Studies, and a consultant
to Ariel Sharon. Richard Perle was never in charge of the
Defense Policy Board, so he was unable to enrich himself
through government connections, or help Ahmad Chalabi con
the administration. Perle stayed an honest man, running a
chain of soufflé shops. His soufflés were so fluffy he
became known as the Prince of Lightness. Doug Feith never
worked here, either, so he never set up the Office of
Special Plans to spin tall tales about W.M.D. and Qaeda
ties to Saddam. And he never bungled the occupation because
there was no occupation. Without you to swoon over in a
book, neocon doyenne Midge Decter became a fallen woman,
like Violet.
RUMMY, dyspeptic: Holy mackerel! Take me to Dick!
CLARENCE: Dick and Lynne run a bait, tackle and
baton-twirling shop in Casper, Wyo. You didn't exist, so
you never gave him those jobs in the Nixon and Ford
administrations, and he never ran for Congress or worked
for Bush 41 or anointed himself 43's vice president. W.
chose Chuck Hagel as his running mate. So without you and
Dick there to dominate him, he was guided by his dad and
Brent Scowcroft, who kept Condi in line. Colin Powell was
never cut off at the knees and the U.N. and allies were
never bullied. There was never any crazy fever about Iraq
or unilateralism or "Old Europe." Here's Colin now, heading
for the Oval Office.
POWELL: Merry Christmas, Mr. President. With the help of
our allies around the world, we have won the war on terror.
And Saddam has been overthrown. Once Hans Blix exposed the
fact that Saddam had no weapons, the tyrant was a goner. No
Arab dictator can afford to be humilated by a Swedish
disarmament lawyer.
RUMMY: Goodness gracious, I've heard enough now. I'm going
home. Unless you're going to tell me my wife is an old
maid, because I wasn't around to marry her.
CLARENCE: Oh, no. Joyce lives across the street from your
old house on Kalorama Road. She's happily married to the
French ambassador.
"Auld Lang Syne" swells as we FADE OUT.
http://www.nytimes.com/2004/12/19/opinion/19dowd.html?ex=1104461218&ei=1&en=944b0131ed3ad5e5
Copyright 2004 The New York Times Company