The ever-brilliant Garrison Keillor hits the nail on the head once again. He compares the Bush Administration to a bad canoe trip led by Karl Rove:
"What truly cheers me up through these dog days of summer is the thought that two old friends of mine are up north on a canoe trip in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area and that I am not there with them. I am here, reading the paper, and if I wanted to go to a movie, I could go, and if I wished to use a flush toilet, I could do that, too. But for the grace of God, I could be sitting on the ground, filthy, embittered, a homeless person, eating freeze-dried food and listening to the Master Woodsman tell you what a great experience you're having and meanwhile the woods are not lovely, just dark and deep, and a cloud of mosquitoes has come out to avenge the white man's colonizing of North America. I have been on canoe trips, I know what goes on.
Every canoe trip has a self-appointed Master Woodsman. In civilian life he may be a mild-mannered clerk in a cubicle, but out on the trail he is transformed into the song leader, pathfinder, the great helmsman, the tier of correct knots, and the authority on bears. He shows you how to do everything except the things you really need to do, such as 1) move your bowels in some dignified manner and 2) get out of here and find a hotel. Your body aches from sleeping on the ground, your bowels have turned to stone, and you are thinking about "Lord of the Flies" and what it says about the fragility of civilization, but he is relentlessly upbeat. And then it dawns on you: Your suffering is what turns him on. The man is a sadist.
At this point, the Current Administration is like a very, very bad canoe trip with a week left to go, and Mr. Rove is the Head Counselor who has found a path to the highway. He left the White House with a wave and a grin and not in handcuffs as some had hoped, followed by the usual backwash of commentary on how important he was, or how not important in comparison to how important some people thought he was, and what I find eerie about the man is his inexhaustible self-confidence and optimism. He was the Master Woodsman. According to some accounts, his positive outlook was responsible for the Current Occupant's sunny disposition in the face of bad news. No wonder Mr. Rove's nickname was Turd Blossom. He could put fecal matter on his lapel and call it a boutonniere."
http://www.salon.com/opinion/keillor/2007/08/15/rove/:rofl: