-Caveat Lector- I << ttp://www.zolatimes.com/V2.44/pageone.html <A HREF="http://www.zolatimes.com/V2.44/pageone.html">Laissez Faire City Times - Volume 2 Issue 44</A> The Laissez Faire City Times December 28, 1998 - Volume 2, Issue 44 Editor & Chief: Emile Zola ----- Bill: Thanks for the 1998 Memories (depending on what the word "thanks" means) by Jack Ryan Looking back on 1998 is a heady, almost surreal exercise. What a year. Bill Clinton's Sexgate brought to the world stage so many memorable moments and characters, that I defy anyone to chronicle from memory the order of events that L'affaire Lewinsky entailed. I'm quite certain your head would explode into little cranium chunks should you attempt it. Let me save your sanity and your cranium. So many memories; so few months to have crammed them into. It is almost with a sense of sorrow and loss that I say good-bye to 1998. There is no bitterness or recalcitrance as I bid adieu, for I say good-bye in the manner one might wave good-bye to a beloved grandmother, or perhaps as Bill Clinton might have once waved good-bye to his beloved humidor, Monica S. Lewinsky. For as we say good-bye today, we can be certain that we shall meet again on the morrow--in the form of 1999. Here's hoping that the new year will be as unique and memorable in the history books. As for 1998, thanks, Bill Clinton, for the memories. Though the American people have always known you to be a lying rogue, they overlooked that in two elections. Although they knew you to be less than honest, they took a Shakespearean read, knowing that you could sometimes be honest by chance. You gave us so many enchanting moments this year. Your contributions to American society in 1998 had less to do with legislation than it did with masturbation. It had less to do with pounding the pulpit than it with did with pounding a porker. You taught us many things we might not have otherwise discovered for ourselves. We now know that "is" may not always be. We now know that no one is actually ever "alone"; although there are 5 billion other souls on this planet who would quibble with that silly notion. We now know that while you chose to protest your government during Vietnam, you have deployed, dispersed, and put into harm's way the U.S. military more times than any president before you . Looking back through the foggy and sometimes cryptic looking-glass of time, we now know you spent 50 million dollars in cruise missile currency to destroy a Sudanese aspirin factory-- the same day that Harmonica Lewinsky gave her grand jury testimony. We said it was "Wag the Dog." You said, in all your phony indignation, that it wasn't. We think thou doth protest too much. Mr. Clinton, you also taught us that Monica's loose lips can--and indeed did--sink ships. We will never know how many innocent Iraqis died in your Wag the Willy attack recently. But we can be fairly certain that your attack had more to do with the result of Monica's trash talk about your meat missile, than it did with Hussein's SCUD missiles. And thanks for the lessons, Bill. You taught us how to mislead, lie, equivocate and quibble. The lessons were simple and understandable: From January to December, you showed us how to perjure ourselves in 12 easy lessons. Now we know that O.J. Simpson simply mislead the prosecutors and the jury. He never lied--at least not to the Clinton standard of lying. You, Mr. Clinton, raised the perjury bar so high that it would take a Saturn 5 heavy launch vehicle to get over it. Yea, verily, perhaps like Apollo 13, your tale will one day grace the silver screen. "Hillary, we have a problem." Thanks, Bill, for the intriguing personalities you brought to national prominence. My Sundays would not have been complete without my cornflakes and the plethora of nabobs and nincompoops who paraded out to defend your considerable rear end. Thanks for Rahm Emanuel, who never met a convoluted sentence he did not like. Rahm proved to us that even a man with all the passion and emotion of a week-old cadaver could regurgitate the lies you fed him. Thank you, Bill, for Paul Begala. The swami of smarm had his legs cut out from under him after your August 17th temper tantrum. But Paul showed us, like others under you (or kneeling), that there is no depth too low in which one can sink for a cause. He shaved his beard off in the hope we would not recognize him. It didn't work. Thanks, Bill, for Chester James Carville. For months, Corporal Cueball Carville raged his own private "Wah" against your nemesis and fellow Man of the Year, Judge Kenneth Starr. For months, he badmouthed, harangued and swamped the airwaves with vitriol, lies and half-truths. What a soldier, you had there, Bill. The end result of this war was your impeachment. James deserves a promotion. We thank you, Bill, for Ann Lewis and her horn-blowing brother, Barney Frank. Ann Lewis suggested on a Sunday news show, that the President's groping of Kathleen Willey was nothing more than "bumptious". It was a defining moment in broadcast history, for at that moment , roughly 20 millions viewers all reached for dictionaries. Sorry, Ann. A bumptious act would have been President Clinton sitting nude on your desk whilst farting out a jaunty version of "I've got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts". Groping Miss Willey in the Oral Office was nothing short of perverted. And who among us has not noticed Barney Frank, the squeaky toy of D.C. I, like millions of others, cannot watch Mr. Frank on the tube for more than five minutes without feeling an overpowering urge to brush my teeth. It is ironic that Mr. Clinton's most vocal defender is also one of the few congressmen to have been censured himself. Sex scandals are no stranger to Barney. The truth, however, is. Good old Barney was not afraid to step up to the plate when the time came to defend the prez, regardless of the monkey it could have placed on his back. (Not that the monkey would find any room back there. Until recently, Barney's back required valet parking). Mr. Frank, with all the vocal eloquence of a Furbie, proved to us that he who squeaks the loudest, knows the least. Finally, thank you, Bill, for Monica S. Lewinsky. Before January 1998, most Americans thought an intern to be no more than a doctor in training. Bill Clinton elevated the art of stupid pet tricks to a new level. But instead of men in Velcro jump suits vaulting into felt walls, we had "gross things to do with tobacco products". The word DNA will forever be linked to blue cocktail dresses. And semen tests will no longer have anything to with promotions in the Navy. The president, with his tubby, latte-sipping socialite wanna-be, tossed the national discourse into the sewer. We thank you for that. Not for our sakes, but for our children's. We now have an excuse to turn off the television set, lest we have to explain oral sex, wet cigars and semen-stained dresses to our toddlers. As 1998 comes to a close, we thank you from the bottom of out hearts for the most previous gift of all--the gift of your well-deserved presidential legacy. In future history books, the very first sentence of your biography will read: PRESIDENT WILLIAM JEFFERSON BLYTHE CLINTON (1992-2000): The only elected US president to have been impeached. Yes, William, thanks indeed for the memories . . . -30- >> DECLARATION & DISCLAIMER ========== CTRL is a discussion and informational exchange list. Proselyzting propagandic screeds are not allowed. Substance—not soapboxing! 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