As I watched the frat boy defiantly give his final press conference and try his best to rewrite history, I must confess that I almost felt pity for the man. (Almost) There he was today trying to save his legacy, and trying to hold on to what slither of dignity he has left. As he took questions from the press corp, you had the feeling it was more like a trial than a standard White House news conference.
Some of the questions were tough: reporters asked him about our tarnished image abroad, his fuck up with the Iraq war, his declaration on an aircraft carrier that our mission was accomplished, when clearly it was not, and his handling and response to hurricane Katrina.
Of course he refused to own up to his mistakes. Sure he said he could have done a few things differently here and there (like actually landing his plane in Louisiana after one of the most devastating natural disasters in our country's history) but he never really owned up to the mess that he has left his successor. As has been the case with the frat boy from day one, he was right and everyone else was wrong.
"I think it's a good, strong record.... You know, presidents can try to avoid hard decisions and therefore avoid controversy. That's just not my nature."
Of course not, your "nature" is to stubbornly go into an unnecessary war with a country that had nothing to do with 911 in order to expand the powers of the executive branch and hold on to political power. And it didn't hurt that you had your trusty henchman, Dead eye Dick, riding shotgun to carry out your dastardly deeds every inch of the way.
"The question is, in the long run, will this democracy survive, and that's going to be a question for future presidents.."
He was talking about Iraq, but he might as well have been talking about A-merry-ca. Because after eight years of his awful and detestable administration, I think our democracy is on life support.
Thursday night he will be on prime time giving his final address to the nation. It will be more of the same: Defiance. Denial. Prevarication. One more go round with the frat boy as he tries to win our hearts and make us forget how miserable he has made our lives. It won't work. We will all look at that cocky walk to the podium, that irritating little smirk, and every single one of us will wish it was the year 2000 all over again.