Bush and One Tree

I have a proposal for the next election—no individual with a Southern accent should be allowed to run unless he or she can at least pronounce some of the basic vocabulary words kerectly. Against my will, I am listening to President Bush’s Presidential Address of EyeRack. He is perhaps the least charismatic speaker I’ve ever heard. He says everything exactly the same. He has no passion. He has no public speaking skills. He is reading the words written by some intern who is cringing underneath a table somewhere in the White House. He is only reading; he has no particular intonation. It seems all he can do to go at a slow and understandable pace. Here are some words I believe a President should know how to pronounce:

Al Quaeda not Al Kahdah

Children not Chirren and Granchirren

Terrorists not Tara wrists

America not Merica

I can’t believe that someone hasn’t given him some speech giving skills. He says “We-owe-it-to-them-to-buyld-a-greater-fuetur-and-ensure-Merica’s-struggle-fer-freedum.”

And why are we even talking about this as a “plan?” The President has a plan. It includes blowing up more people, taking over more land, and destroying our economy and that of other countries. Sending an additional 4,000 troops is not a plan. It’s a step—the wrong one, but it is not a plan. And he doesn’t care if it doesn’t work, because he only has to drag this on for another two years and then everyone can blame the next elected official.

Meanwhile, the other choice of viewing pleasure is the One Tree Hill I already saw—the It’s a Wonderful Life Tribute. Now we have a scene where the forty-year-old high school student (Payton) is sitting on a cement thing under a bridge and the brown haired girl (Brook) sits down next to her as Cold Play eclipses the dialogue. “I thought I’d find you here.”

Clich├ęs used: Life’s too short…No one has ever lost sleep over…It was another lifetime ago…You picked the wrong day to…Are you just going to stand there…Suit yourself…Find your way…Just breathe…It’s going to be okay…Ya know I love ya and I always will, but it’s time for me to go.

Oh, apparently, he saw this really angry Goth chick at school and it was Brook as she would’ve been if he hadn’t helped this one old lady across the street in front of her. Because Bobby was the best version of himself, she didn’t become this disgusting Goth chick standing in front of a grave that we see now. See, that’s what happens if you’re not a good person. Others around you will become angry and disillusioned and make horrible fashion choices. Now the almost dead guy is listening to an i-pod sponsored by Verizon. Here comes another song. I can’t hear what the characters are saying. Probably something like, “You only get one life, son. I may not have told you all the things you needed to hear, but I tried as hard as I could to let you know how much you mean to me. If you have a shot at the gold ring, you’ve got to take it and never look back. A bird in a hand is worth two in the bush, Danny. I know you’re trying to make it right, but a rolling stone gathers no moss, okay, Danny?”
That’s the other thing about these shows that’s hilarious; they always use each other’s names. ALWAYS. Just in case you can’t tell them apart (which is a challenge):
Yeah, Danny, do you remember that, Danny, okay?
Shut up, Michael, okay, Michael, just shut up!
Danny, what are you saying, Danny?
I’m saying that everything’s going to be okay, Michael, for you and for Haley, okay, Danny?
Wait, I’m Michael, Danny.
Danny?
No, Danny. It’s Danny.

Oh, the knocked up girl just regained consciousness and now her boyfriend is laying on top of her on the hospital bed with all of his hunky brown haired basketball player weight, even though she’s got her leg in a sling and a bandage wrapped 100 times around her head.
Now that guy from Some Kind of Wonderful is hugging goodbye the thirty-year-old blond man and zapping him with jumper cables. I love ya, kid. I love ya. (Please, God, don’t let him do the whole ET thing, pointing at his heart and saying, I’ll be right here…) Photo montage, more fake Indy crap music, voice over narration, and “Look into your heart, it may be flawed physically, but it’s a good one and it’s what makes you you. Open your eyes, Luke, open your eyes, Luke, open your eyes, Lukey, open your eyes, Lucas. Goddamnit open your fucking eyes!”
Maybe Bush’s speechwriter should change places with the writers of One Tree Hill. That way, the President could speak to the people in their language and the characters of the WBCWB could sound moderately intelligent, particularly since they know how to express emotions like almost real people.

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