gone-zales(Image by darkblack)

So much going on today, it’s really hard to pick something to write about. We’ve got another Republican legislator busted trying to solicit sex from strange men in a public bathroom. Tsk. Tsk. (At press-time there is no word as to whether or not the arresting officers were “stocky black guys” whose blood lust Senator Craig was attempting to assuage with a friendly offer of Oral Pleasure.)

Also under Creepy Closet Cases With Way Too Much Power, there’s an illuminating profile of Matt Drudge in New York magazine that I may yet tackle in depth. Jeebus, what a freak show.

But tonight, I mainly want to just doff my hat and offer up a prayer of thanks to the merciful deity who convinced Abu Gonzales that it was time to bail out of his AG position to spend more time with Karen Hughes’s family. Praise Jesus.

For you see, there’s just something about Wee Al that has always driven me wild with irritation. I can’t imagine that I’m alone in this. Can I get a witness? Say ‘amen’, somebody.

Maybe it’s the suits that would look better on Chief Justice John Roberts’s kid. Maybe it’s the constant smirk on his fat little pork pie of a face. Maybe it’s the plastic Devo hair. Maybe it was the smug fatuousness with which he conducted himself before the Congress, shrugging and twitching his way down what Sidney Blumenthal refers to as, “winding paths of dissembling”.

But frankly, I think the thing that made me most want to throttle the little pock-marked pissant was his Spongebob on Helium voice. Oh, my sweet, gentle Jesus, could any male person over the age of eight sound less authoritative? All it took was even the briefest sound byte of his whiny, paper-thin, less-than-dulcet tones, “Ah don’t recawll that, Cawngressman” and I’d be seized with the sudden urge to club a baby seal to death.

Of course, the bad news is that they seem to be considering the only man in America with an even more annoying voice to take his place, Michael “Squeaky” Chertoff. I have to ask, what the hell is it with Bush appointees and their obnoxiously high-pitched voices? Every time Monica Goodling opens her mouth, dogs for miles begin to whimper and bleed from the ears. And don’t even get me started on Bradley Schlozman. Dolphins can’t even hear that guy.

Granted, Alberto Gonzales’s crimes against my eardrums pale next to his crimes against the American people, the US Constitution, and anyone unfortunate enough to be detained by US forces at Guantanamo or in any of the “black sites” operated under the Bush Administration’s perverse concept of “justice”. Still, though, I can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief that the little turd is retiring from public life. If we could just persuade him to take a permanent vow of silence, my happiness would be complete.

Unless, of course, he wants to speak under oath. That, and only that, is the one thing I believe we could make an exception for.

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