Tuesday, May 01, 2007

". . . with a swagger that seemed to suggest he had seen Top Gun"



Gross. Remember this crap?:
The president there -- look at this guy! We're watching him. He looks like he flew the plane. He only flew it as a passenger, but he's flown

. . .

He looks for real. What is it about the commander in chief role, the hat that he does wear, that makes him -- I mean, he seems like -- he didn't fight in a war, but he looks like he does.

. . .

Look at this guy!

. . .

We're proud of our president. Americans love having a guy as president, a guy who has a little swagger, who's physical, who's not a complicated guy like Clinton or even like Dukakis or Mondale, all those guys, McGovern. They want a guy who's president. Women like a guy who's president. Check it out. The women like this war. I think we like having a hero as our president. It's simple. We're not like the Brits. We don't want an indoor prime minister type, or the Danes or the Dutch or the Italians, or a Putin. Can you imagine Putin getting elected here? We want a guy as president.
Four years later, I think we can safely conclude that this "analysis" definitely did not stand the test of time. And keep in mind that this was the supposedly liberal Chris Matthews; others were much much worse.

Four years later, even National Review founder William F. Buckley (think about that for a minute) is calling Bush's problems "grave, possibly beyond the point of rescue," and doubts "whether the Republican party will survive this [Iraq] dilemma."

Update:

Jim Henley, who is always worth reading, explains why it is well-past time to leave Iraq:
So, back to the mythical Pottery Barn a minute. The real one does not, in fact, charge you for something you break. But if you fumble around trying to put the mess back, and stumbing into étagères and toppling over shelves, with each new crash inspiring you to say, Clouseau-like, “Nono! I’ll fix it!” until the store comes to resemble the sifting tray at an archaeological dig, sooner rather than later the staff will cry, “Please sir, just go!”
More analysis on how to get out from Cernig, here.

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