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The all-seeing eye of Democratic Underground descends through the clouds on a winter night over Washington, D.C., down to the earth, then following the undulations of a triple-filtered ventilation shaft and coming to rest in an underground bunker beneath the White House. It is here where, under the most discreet of circumstances, three people are talking. Two of them are trying to have an intellectual conversation. The third is the President of the United States.
Cheney: George.... George, are you listening? (snaps fingers) Georgie! Turn that damned television off for a minute!
The President: Wait a minute! (points at television) That dumb sonovabitch there is about to eat a bowl of maggots for less than you make in a day, Dickhead. This oughta be great.
(Karl Rove, sitting next to the television, pretends to stretch while pulling the plug from the wall)
The President: Hey, what happened? (staring into the bright fluorescent lights above) Did the power go out?
Cheney: George, do you remember last summer when you read a book?
The President: The one about that song by the Cure? Killin' an Ay-rab da da da da killin' an Ay-rab. Hahaha! Yeah, I read it. One of the interns read it to me while I was shaving each morning back at the ranch. An' I read three Shakespeares that way, too.
Cheney: Well George, Karl and I think you should become familiar with another book, or part of it. (producing a worn red book) It's not Clausewitz, but--
The President: Gee-om-in-eye... Ain't he that Indian that jumps outa planes?
Rove: It's Jomini. It's The Art of War.
The President: I can see that, Turd Blossom. Why don't he spell his damned name like it's pronounced? Hey, haven't I seen that movie, with Wesley Snipes?
Cheney: No....
The President: Sure I did! That black boy was all POW! POW!, an' kickin' ass for Merka! Shit yeah! Let's watch it again!
Cheney: No, George, this is a book. It's not a book that has been made into a film.
The President: Well, what's this one about?
(Rove and Cheney sit in stunned silence for a moment. Rove recovers first.)
Rove: George, it's The Art of War....
The President: Oh! By that Chinaman? The one we beat in Viet-nam?
Cheney: No, not that one either. It's about....
The President: I know! It's by that guy... don't tell me... the Prince.
(Rove and Cheney stare at each other fearfully.)
Cheney: How in the hell do you know about--
Rove: Jesus Christ, please tell me you haven't read Machiavelli--
The President: That's it! Prince Matchabelli. The kids send me some of his cologne every Christmas. I'm wearing it right now, 'cause I opened their present early! I didn't know he could write, too. He's a regular renaissance man.
Rove: (wiping his brow) No George, I told you. This Art of War is by Jomini. It's about... it's about the art of war, George.
The President: But he's Eye-talian, right?
Cheney: No, he's Swiss. He--
The President: Well now, what the fuck to the Swiss know about fightin', anyhow?
Rove: George, please. Just listen to Dick for a moment, won't you?
Cheney: George, Jomini fought with Napoleon, and wrote a book about what he learned during the Napoleonic wars. Stop. Don't even ask. You don't need to read the whole book. (looking at Karl) Maybe we should just read the important part to you right now. It's in the very first chapter....
The President: A whole chapter? I don' wanna.
Cheney: (hurriedly paging through the introduction) No George, just this part right here:
"War is always to be conducted according to the great principles of the art; but great discretion must be exercised in the nature of the operations to be undertaken, which should depend upon the circumstances of the case.
"For example: two hundred thousand French wishing to subjugate the Spanish people, united to a man against them, would not maneuver as the same number of French in a march upon Vienna, or any other capital, to compel a peace; nor would a French army fight the guerrillas of Mina as they fought the Russians at Borodino; nor would a French army venture to march upon Vienna without considering what might be the tone and temper of the governments and communities between the Rhine and the Inn, or between the Danube and the Elbe. A regiment should always fight in nearly the same way; but commanding generals must be guided by circumstances and events...."
The President: Now, I didn't understand a goddamned word you just said.
Cheney: George, think of it as a, a....
Rove: ...A metaphor.
The President: Fuck you, I went to Yale! I ain't no metaphor.
Cheney: A simile. George, you know what a simile is right? That passage is sort of like what we're experiencing in Iraq--
The President: You're sayin' we're like the fuckin' French? The hell with you! You're fired!
Cheney: You can't fire me, George. I was elected.
The President: Well, I can sure as hell get you a peach! I'll call up Nancy Pelosi an' tell her all about that energy shit an' that torturin' an' that missing trillion dollars. She'll give you so much peach you'll be shittin' fuzz for a month.
Rove: Now just calm down, George--
The President: Shut the fuck up, Turd Blossom, or I'll get you a peach, too!
Rove: Actually... no, never mind.
Cheney: George, what we're trying to say is that we think that maybe it's time to start fighting this war a little differently. We think that we should start using our armies in Iraq more diplomatically....
The President: What do you think we're doing over there, Dickhead? We fuckin' won. It's all diplomacy now, and that's Condi's job--and the Army's job--to fight the diplomacy and win. Not mine. Or yours. I'm the decider. I'm the War President--hoo rah!
Rove: Oh... fuck it. I'm going to bed. (speaks into his cell phone) Hi, Jeff?
Cheney: I'm going to bed, too. Good night George.
The President: Hey, where are you going with that bottle? And send an electrician down here to fix the TV. And tell him to go to the video store and get me that Wesley Snipes movie--what's it called again?
THE END
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