I am one of President George W. Bush's gardeners. Mr. George likes to talk to me.

Wednesday, June 09, 2004

Rush Limbaugh Lies

At times, working in the White House garden feels like a slice of Heaven here on Earth. In the afternoons, all five of my senses are awakened to life's Higher Powers: my eyes take in the deep azure Virginia sky; my bootless feet sink in to the fecund soil; my mouth enjoys Apple Jack, the world's finest chewing tobacco; my nose fills with the aroma of delicate lilacs and hydrangeas; my ears listen to the voice of Rush Limbaugh. Mr. Rush's deep, soothing voice pours out of my head phones like baptism water — I fear nothing when he speaks. I don't mean to blaspheme. Rush Limbaugh is not God, but he speaks with the power and authority of the Divine.

I met him yesterday.

I remember as a young boy trying to get an autograph from the great Tris Speaker, but instead of signing my Washington Senators score sheet, he spat on it and pushed my face backwards with his palm. My mother spent three days trying to get me to stop crying. I had a similar experience with Mr. Rush. He had just gotten instructions from members of the Grand Old Party and decided to peruse them in the gardens. I introduced myself:

"Excuse me, Mr. Rush. I'm Lenny Gardner. I love your show."

"Well thank you, old-timer. I'm glad to have you listening."

"Thank you so much for putting the Abu Ghraib scandal in perspective," I said. "I was concerned about America's moral direction until you compared the torture of detainees to the initiation rituals of frat boys. My sense of patriotism returned."

"That maybe wasn't the smartest thing to say," said Mr. Rush. He popped three pills in his mouth and swallowed without water.

"And I'm glad you set those liberals straight about the Iraqi war rationale," I said, feeling star-struck and bashful. "They keep saying the war is about oil, but we know better, don't we, Mr. Rush?"

"Well actually, old-timer, I like you, so I want to let you in on a little secret — the war in Iraq is about oil," said Rush, looking around, as if to make sure no one else was listening. "Oil and money. Don't let anyone tell you different."

"No, it's called Operation Iraqi Freedom," I said. I felt confused and hurt. "This is a fight for freedom. We need to free the Iraqi people from a madman."

"That's a good one. The kind people at Halliburton just want these Arabs to be free. Yep, that's it. We can't allow the beautiful Persians to live under tyranny. That would just be too awful."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this," I said.

"Let me tell you something else," Mr. Rush whispered. "Our leaders knew about the 9/11 attacks beforehand. They needed a Pearl Harbor, and they got one."

"You're telling me things that are not true!" I shouted.

"I'll say anything if the price is right. Listen, take care, old-timer. The flowers look great."

Even though the skies were clear, I spent the rest of the afternoon under a dark cloud. Mr. Rush lied to my face. I hope he was just making fun of me.

3 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

dude, we're going for funny here, not dogmatism, even if scantily clad in bare-bones irony. just because it's true doesn't make it funny. make it funny.

dug

June 9, 2004 at 9:33 AM

 
Blogger Lenny G said...

First off, Mr. Dug, I am obligated to speak the truth, irregardless of whether or not it's funny or not. And second off, in this case, the Rush Limbaugh thing does come off as dogmatic. I tried to get him to take me to one of his fun frat house parties, but he goes to bed early these days. If you think the Limbaugh spiel was dogmatic, wait till Ashcroft visits me.

June 10, 2004 at 8:07 AM

 
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Now that's funny

dug

June 10, 2004 at 9:12 AM

 

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