30 August 2005

i-ro-ny, n., Incongruity between what might be expected and what actually occurs.

Words fail me.  From the WaPo:

Alleged chemical weapons factory uncovered in Iraq

BAGHDAD -- US troops raiding a warehouse in the northern city of Mosul uncovered a suspected chemical weapons factory containing 1,500 gallons of chemicals believed destined for attacks on US and Iraqi forces and civilians, military officials said yesterday.

The early morning raid last Monday found 11 precursor agents, ''some of them quite dangerous by themselves," a military spokesman, Lieutenant Colonel Steven Boylan, said in Baghdad.

Combined, the chemicals would yield an agent capable of ''lingering hazards" for those exposed to it, Boylan said. The likely targets would have been ''coalition and Iraqi security forces, and Iraqi civilians," partly because the chemicals would be difficult to keep from spreading over a wide area, he said.

Boylan said the suspected lab was new, dating from sometime after the US-led invasion of Iraq in 2003. The Bush administration cited evidence that Saddam Hussein's government was manufacturing weapons of mass destruction as the main justification for the invasion. No such weapons or factories were found.

And then, when the MSM called out administration officials on this ridiculousness, they...oh wait, that's right.
They didn't.

Fool, it's hot! I told you again! Were you born on the sun? It's damn hot! I saw little guys, their orange robes burst into flames. It's that hot!

This year, the dog days definitely dropped the hammer, sending me into a blogging torpor.  Upper 90s and amazonian humidity do nothing for anyone's mental acuity, that's for sure.
Really, though, after Bill Frist deftly (and despicably) avoided formalizing procedures for detainee treatment by poleaxeing the $491 billion defense bill, and the Preznit moved ahead with his long-expected, end-run, recess appointment of John Bolton, August was nothing but the worst sort of bloviating and bitchery on both sides.
John Roberts gets tapped for the SCOTUS nomination and both sides scramble to find something in his scant judicial record to either boost him or blast him.  Good luck.
Bush hits the road for five weeks of bike riding, brush clearing, and playing cowboy dress-up, and those that aren't saying he richly deserves the break are swearing on a stack that it's an unconscionable dereliction of duty.  News flash: He doesn't and it's not. 
Finally, Ferris Bush's Month Off set the stage for the Cindy Sheehan circus to come to town.  She a voice in the wilderness, she's a pawn of the radical left.  She's a grieving mother, she's "the bitch in the ditch."  I don't know what she is or if anyone's pulling her strings, but I know this:  She asked for a reason her son died and no one's been able to come up with a good one.
Freedom and democracy sound nice (granted, not necessarily from from the cab of a pick-up as it plows over memorial crosses), but neither of those ideas are recalled by a constitution that stipulates "No law can be passed that contradicts the undisputed rules of Islam."
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