King Bush

Am I on crazy pills? My country is very very creepy, spooky, and ugly lately. If these headlines don't make you want to throw open the window and yell "SOMETHING IS VERY VERY WRONG HERE!", then get a load of this. A bunch of rich assholes have gotten together to make GW Bush's childhood home a historic site. According to the AP story I just read, the Bush's humble home has been renovated to its 1950s' glory. "First lady Laura Bush's mother, Jenna Welch... donated a greenish-blue 1955 refrigerator from her home for the renovation."
Well that makes it really entirely authentically fucked up then, doesn't it?

I grew up outside Boston. We had museum sites made of the homes of people like John Hancock, the Adamses, and Paul Revere (I passed out in what is called Paul Revere's house during a field trip in 6th grade). We had the Bunker Hill monument, we had Walden Pond. Where I live now, I am quite close to the Nathan Hale Homestead.

Now, with that type of precedent for historic homes and sites, I have a hard time understanding exactly why anyone should go or would want to go to the Bush house, what with his approval rating at a whopping 35%. Oh wait, unless it's like why and how I went to graceland - because tacky shit that transcends all definitions of taste is damned funny when you're having that late 20s existential crisis (Warning: I do not recommend doing something like this without the proper medication, as Hunter S. Thompson might have said).


From In the Colosseum by Tom Waits:
No justice here, no liberty
No reason, no blame
There's no cause to taint the sweetest taste of blood
And greetings from the nation
As we shake the hands of time
They're taking their ovations
The vultures stay behind
In the colosseum, in the colosseum
In the colosseum tonight