A Bi-Partisan Review of 2004

[luvmetender]

Got this e-mail from a Libertarian friend...hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

No Thanks for the Memories

By Dave Barry

LOOKING BACK ON 2004, we have to conclude that it could
have been worse.

"How??" you ask, spitting out your coffee.

Well, okay, a giant asteroid could have smashed into the
Earth and
destroyed all human life except Paris Hilton and William
Hung. Or Florida
could have been hit by 20 hurricanes, instead of just 17.

Or the Yankees could have won the World Series.

But, no question, 2004 was bad. Consider:

-- We somehow managed to hold a presidential election
campaign that for
several months was devoted almost entirely to the burning
issue of: Vietnam.

-- Our Iraq policy, which was discussed, debated and
agreed upon right up
to the very highest levels of the White House, did not
always seem to be
wildly popular over there in Iraq.

-- Osama bin Laden remained at large for yet another year
(although we did
manage, at long last, to put Martha Stewart behind bars).

-- The federal budget deficit continued to worsen, despite
the concerted
effort of virtually every elected official in Washington --
Republican or
Democrat -- to spend more money.

-- As a nation, we managed somehow to get even fatter,
despite the fact
that anti-carbohydrate mania worsened to the point where the
average
American would rather shoot heroin than eat a bagel.

-- The "reality"-show cancer continued to metastasize, so
that you
couldn't turn on the TV without seeing either Donald Trump
or a cavalcade of
dimwits emoting dramatically about eating bugs, losing
weight, marrying a
millionaire or remodeling a bathroom.

-- Perhaps most alarming of all, Cher yet again extended
her "farewell"
tour, which began during the Carter administration and is
now expected to
continue until the sun goes out.

So, all things considered, we're happy to be entering a
new year, which,
according to our calculations, will be 2005 (although the
exit polls are
predicting it will be 1997). But before we move on, let's
swallow our
anti-nausea medication and take one last look back at 2004,
which began, as
so many years seem to, with . . .

JANUARY

. . . a month that opens with all the magic, excitement
and glamour
conjured up by the words "Iowa caucuses." All the political
experts --
having gauged the mood of the state by dining with each
other at essentially
three Des Moines restaurants -- agree that the Democratic
nomination has
already been locked up by feisty yet irritable genius former
Vermont
governor Howard Dean, thanks to his two unbeatable weapons:
(a) the Internet
and (b) college students wearing orange hats.

But it turns out that the Iowa voters, many of whom
apparently do not eat
at the right restaurants, are out of the loop regarding the
Dean strategic
brilliance. Instead they vote for John "I Served In Vietnam"
Kerry, who
served in Vietnam and also has many policies, although
nobody, including
him, seems to know for sure what they are. Dean, reacting to
his Iowa loss,
gives an emotional concession speech that ends with him
making a sound like
a hog being castrated with a fondue fork. Incredibly, this
fails to improve
his poll standings.

Meanwhile, the Bush administration, increasingly disturbed
by the bad news
from Iraq, cancels the White House's lone remaining
newspaper subscription
(Baseball Weekly).

But the news is much better from Mars, where yet another
spunky l'il NASA
robot vehicle lands and begins transmitting back photographs
of rocks that
appear virtually identical to the rock photos beamed back by
all the other
spunky l'il NASA robots, thus confirming suspicions that the
universe has a
lot of rocks in it. In other outer-space news, Michael
Jackson, clearly
concerned about his upcoming trial on charges of child
molestation, dances
on the roof of an SUV.

In lifestyle news, the hot trend is "metrosexuals" -- young
males who are
not gay but are seriously into grooming and dressing well.
There are only
eight documented cases of males like this, all living in two
Manhattan
blocks, but they are featured in an estimated 17,000
newspaper and magazine
articles over the course of about a week, after which this
trend, like a
minor character vaporized by aliens in a "Star Trek"
episode, disappears and
is never heard from again.

In sports, Pete Rose publishes a book in which he at last
confesses to an
allegation that dogged him throughout his baseball career:
He's a jerk.

Speaking of shocking revelations, in . . .

FEBRUARY

. . . the nation -- already troubled by bad news from
Iraq, coupled with a
resurgence in terrorism and a slow economic recovery -- is
traumatized by
something that leaves a deep and lasting scar on the fragile
national
psyche: Janet Jackson's right nipple, which is revealed for
a full three
ten-thousandths of a second during the Super Bowl halftime
show. This event
is so traumatic that the two teams are unable to complete
the game, with
many players simply lying on the field in the fetal
position, whimpering.

It is a moment reminiscent of the JFK assassination, in
that virtually all
Americans can remember exactly where they were when it
happened.

"I was on the sofa," they say. Or, "I was in the bathroom
and missed the
traumatic moment, but fortunately we have TiVo." As the
nation reels in
shock, the networks ban all programs that feature any kind
of nudity,
including unclothed fish. Congress also swiftly swings into
action:
Democrats blame the Bush administration, noting that the
nipple was revealed
on Bush's watch; while Republicans point out that, during
all eight years of
the Clinton administration, Janet Jackson clearly possessed
nipples, and
Bill Clinton was almost certainly aware of this.

Bush himself suggests the possibility that the nipples
could have
originated in Iraq. John Kerry notes that there were nipples
in Vietnam.

Elsewhere in politics, feisty Internet genius Howard Dean
drops out of the
Democratic race after losing 17 consecutive primaries,
despite leading in
every single exit poll. Meanwhile, Ralph Nader announces
that he will again
run for president, a decision that is hailed unanimously by
Nader's support
base, which consists of Ralph and his imaginary friend,
Wendell, the talking
space turtle.

In entertainment news, the feel-good hit of the winter is
Mel Gibson's
wacky film romp "The Passion of the Christ," although
critics of product
placement object to the scene where Pontius Pilate can be
seen holding a
Diet Sprite.

On the cultural front, the mayor of San Francisco attempts
to legalize
same-sex marriage, which outrages those who believe that
marriage is a
sacred institution that should be entered into only by
heterosexual people,
such as Britney Spears and Mike Tyson.

Speaking of fighters, in . . .

MARCH

. . . John Kerry sews up the Democratic nomination with
primary victories
in California, Florida, Illinois, Canada, France, Germany
and Sweden.
Kerry's closest rival, John Edwards, drops out of the race,
but Dennis
Kucinich stays in, saying that he intends to keep his
idealistic grass-roots
campaign going until either all U.S. troops leave Iraq, or
Dennis finds a
girlfriend.

In other political news, Russian president and former KGB
agent Vladimir
Putin easily wins reelection and, in a gesture of
reconciliation, orders his
opponents released from his limo trunk.

There is finally some positive news from Iraq, where
negotiators reach
agreement on an interim constitution, which guarantees that,
for the first
time ever, Iraq will be governed by a duly elected council
of nervous men in
armored cars going 80 mph.

In domestic news, U.S. gasoline prices reach record levels
when, in what
economists describe as a freak coincidence, two drivers
attempt to refuel
their Humvees on the same day.

On the legal front, a federal jury convicts Martha Stewart
on four counts
of needing to be taken down a peg. In what many experts call
an unduly harsh
punishment, a federal judge sentences Stewart to be the
topic of 17
consecutive weeks of Jay Leno jokes.

Speaking of punishments, in . . .

APRIL

. . . the Federal Communications Commission levies a
$495,000 fine against
Clear Channel Communications for a 2003 incident in which
Howard Stern, on
his nationally broadcast radio show, exposed his right
nipple.

But the big entertainment news comes at the end of the
two-hour season
finale of the megahit reality show "The Apprentice," when
Donald Trump, in
the most-anticipated event of the year -- and quite possibly
all of human
history -- fires that one guy, whatshisname, and keeps that
other guy. You
remember. It was huge.

Meanwhile, in another blow to the U.S.-led coalition effort
in Iraq, Spain
withdraws its troop, Sgt. Juan Hernandez. As violence in
Iraq escalates,
critics of the Bush administration charge that there are not
enough U.S.
troops over there. Administration officials heatedly deny
this, arguing that
the real problem is that there are too many Iraqis over
there. In the words
of one high-level official (who is not identified in press
reports because
of the difficulties involved in spelling "Condoleezza"), the
administration
"may have to relocate the Iraqis to a safer area, such as
Ecuador." John
Kerry calls this "a ridiculous idea," adding, "I
wholeheartedly endorse it."

In economic news, the price of a gallon of gasoline at the
pump reaches
$236.97, prompting widespread concern that there is
something wrong with
this particular pump.

Congress vows to hold hearings.

Speaking of things gone wrong, in . . .

MAY

. . . world outrage grows in reaction to photos taken
inside Iraq's
notorious Abu Ghraib prison, showing U.S. soldiers
repeatedly forcing
prisoners to look at the video of Janet Jackson's right
nipple. As human
rights organizations voice outrage, President Bush vows to
"punish whoever
is responsible for this, no matter who it is, unless, of
course, it is
Donald Rumsfeld." Congress vows to hear holdings.

The nation's mood does not improve when the Department of
Making Everybody
in the Homeland Nervous raises the Official National Terror
Index Level to
"Stark," based on having received credible information
indicating that al
Qaeda terrorist cells are "probably up to something" and
"could be in your
attic right now."

John Kerry, looking to improve his image with red state
voters, shoots a
duck.

On the health front, medical researchers announce that if
you feed one
aspirin per day to laboratory rats, eventually you are going
to get bitten.

In sports, popular spunky horse Smarty Jones wins the
Kentucky Derby,
confounding exit pollsters who had unanimously picked
Seabiscuit. Congress
vows to call its bookie.

The big entertainment news in May is the much-anticipated
final episode of
"Friends," in which Joey, Chandler, Ross, Rachel, Monica and
Phoebe suddenly
realize that they are, like, 53 years old.

Speaking of final episodes, in . . .

JUNE

. . . former president Ronald Reagan dies and embarks on a
weeklong
national tour. Also hitting the road for the last time is
Ray Charles.

Another former president, Bill Clinton, travels around the
nation bringing
comfort to large crowds of Americans who injured themselves
attempting to
lift Clinton's 1,000-page memoir, titled Some Day I Might
Read This Myself.

The news from Iraq continues to worsen as the interim
governing council,
in a move that alarms the Bush administration, chooses, by
unanimous vote,
its new acting president: Al Gore. He immediately demands a
recount.

In a related development, CIA Director George Tenet -- the
man who told
President Bush that the case for proving there were weapons
of mass
destruction in Iraq was a "slam dunk" -- resigns to accept a
job advising
the New York Yankees.

President Bush meets with the pope and, in impromptu
remarks afterward,
describes him as "a great American." John Kerry, campaigning
in Michigan,
strangles a deer.

On the economic front, there is good news and bad news.
The good news is
that the U.S. economy has generated 250,000 new jobs. The
bad news is that
80 percent of these openings are for legal experts needed by
cable
television to speculate pointlessly 24/7 about Kobe Bryant
and Scott
Peterson. Speaking of job seekers, in . . .

JULY

. . . John Kerry is formally nominated at the Democratic
convention in
Boston and in his acceptance speech tells the wildly
cheering delegates
that, if he is elected president, his highest priority will
be "to develop
facial expressions."

Also well-received at the convention is Kerry's wife,
Teresa Heinz-Ketchup
Kerry, who gives a moving account of being an immigrant in
America with
little more than hopes, dreams, a personal staff, a large
fortune and a
Gulfstream jet. Vice presidential nominee John Edwards also
makes a
well-received speech, after which he is never heard from
again.

In Washington, President Bush, reacting to news of a
projected sharp
increase in the federal budget deficit, vows to find out if
this is a good
thing or a bad thing, or what.

On the terrorism front, the federal commission charged
with investigating
the September 11 attacks, having spent more than a year
questioning hundreds
of witnesses and reviewing thousands of pages of classified
documents,
concludes that the attacks were "very bad" and "better not
happen again."
Congress vows to hold hearings.

Meanwhile, in another blow to the U.S.-led effort in Iraq,
Uruguay
announces that it intends to pull its troops out of the
coalition. Informed
that it has no troops in the coalition, Uruguay asks if it
can borrow some.

In Baghdad, former Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein appears
in a courtroom to
hear the charges against him, which include torture, murder,
genocide and
more than 175,000 zoning violations. Hussein declares that
he is innocent
and offers to take a urine test. The judge rules that
further proceedings
will be postponed "until the Scott Peterson trial is over."

The big movie hit of the summer is "Fahrenheit 9/11," a
shocking
documentary that shows how Bush administration policies were
directly
responsible for making director Michael Moore more than
$100,000,000.

In sports, Lance Armstrong wins his sixth consecutive Tour
de France,
overcoming the hardship of having to pedal hundreds of
kilometers with
hostile French people clinging to his legs.

Speaking of sporting triumphs, in . . .

AUGUST

. . . Greece hosts a highly successful Olympics, with the
United States
winning all the gold medals, at least the ones shown on TV.
Fears of
terrorist attacks prove unjustified, most likely because the
terrorists,
like everybody else, are watching women's beach volleyball.
The only major
controversy involves the men's gymnastics gold medal, which
is won by
American Paul Hamm, despite exit polls showing it should
have gone to a
South Korean.

On the political front, the Republicans gather for their
national
convention in New York City, which welcomes them with open
armpits. But the
hot political story is the allegation by a group of Swift
Boat veterans that
John Kerry exaggerated his Vietnam accomplishments, and
that, in fact, his
boat was "not particularly swift." This story produces a
media frenzy of
charges and countercharges that soon has the entire nation
riveted to reruns
of "America's Funniest Home Videos."

In other political news, New Jersey Gov. James E.
McGreevey resigns after
confirming persistent rumors that he has nipples.

In weather news, an unprecedented series of hurricanes --
Arnie, Barb,
Chuck, Deb, Ernie, Francine, Gus and Harlotta -- all head
directly for
Florida, causing millions of Sunshine State residents, by
long-standing
tradition, to throng to home-supply stores in an effort to
purchase the two
available pieces of plywood. Damage is extensive, although
experts say it
would have been much worse if not for a dense protective
barrier of TV news
people standing on the beaches and excitedly informing the
viewing audience
that the wind is blowing.

In other bad news, the Department of Homeland Fear, acting
on credible
information, raises the National Terror Index Level to
"EEEEEEEE," which is
a level so high that only dogs can detect it.

Speaking of alarming, in . . .

SEPTEMBER

. . . Florida's weather woes worsen as the Sunshine State
is battered on
consecutive days by hurricanes Irving, Jonetta, Karl,
Louanne, Myron, Naomi,
Orville, Peg, Quentin and Regina. When it is finally all
over, many Florida
residents are completely hairless, and shards of Walt Disney
World are
coming down as far away as Montana. The federal government,
reacting
quickly, sends a third sheet of plywood to Florida and
promises that a
fourth will be on the way "soon."

In politics, the month begins with the Republican
Convention and Mass
Arrest still going on in New York City. The GOP delegates,
confounding exit
pollsters, nominate George W. Bush, who promises that, if
reelected, he will
"continue doing whatever it says here on the teleprompter."

With more bad news coming from Iraq, and Americans citing
terrorism and
health care as their major concerns, the news media continue
their
laser-beam focus on the early 1970s. Dan Rather leads the
charge with a
report on CBS's "60 Minutes," citing a memo, allegedly
written in 1972,
suggesting that Bush shirked his National Guard duty.
Critics charge that
the memo is a fake, pointing out that at one point it
specifically mentions
the 2003 Outkast hit "Hey Ya." Rather refuses to back down,
arguing that the
reference could be to "an early version of the song."

Just when the public is about to abandon hope in the
presidential
election, the candidates get together for an actual debate
at the University
of Miami Convocation Center, which is the only building left
standing in
Florida. In summary:

Bush states that being president is really, really hard for
him, anyway.
Kerry states that he is really, really smart and has, like,
185 specific
plans. It is agreed there will be two more debates, although
nobody can
explain why.

In aviation news, US Airways files for bankruptcy for a
second time, only
to have a federal judge rule that the airline can't possibly
get any more
bankrupt than it already is. Meanwhile, the Transportation
Security
Administration, acting on credible information, announces
that it will be
requiring additional airport screening for commercial
airline passengers who
are "wearing clothes."

On the legal front, a judge drops rape charges against
Kobe Bryant on the
grounds that "the Scott Peterson trial is hogging all the
cable TV celebrity
legal analysts."

In medical news, the popular anti-arthritis drug Vioxx is
pulled from the
market after clinical trials show that it may contain
carbohydrates. On a
more positive note, former president Bill Clinton
experiences chest pains
and is rushed to New York-Presbyterian Hospital, where, in a
five-hour
operation, surgeons successfully remove a glazed doughnut
the size of a
catcher's mitt.

Speaking of the national pastime, in . . .

OCTOBER

. . . the Boston Red Sox, ending an 86-year drought,
defeat the St. Louis
Cardinals to win the World Series, defying exit polls that
had
overwhelmingly picked the Green Bay Packers. The Red Sox get
into the Series
thanks to the fact that the New York Yankees -- who were
leading the
American League championships three games to none and have
all-stars at
every position, not to mention a payroll larger than the
gross national
product of Sweden -- choose that particular time to execute
the most
spectacular choke in all of sports history, an unbelievable
Gag-o-Rama, a
noxious nosedive, a pathetic gut-check failure of such epic
dimensions that
every thinking human outside of the New York metropolitan
area experiences a
near-orgasmic level of happiness. But there is no need to
rub it in.

In entertainment news, Howard Stern signs a $500 million
deal to move his
show to satellite radio, where a man can still display a
nipple.

On the health front, the big story is a nationwide
shortage of flu
vaccine, caused by the fact that apparently all the flu
vaccine in the world
is manufactured by some guy with a Bunsen burner in Wales or
someplace.
Congress, acting with unusual swiftness, calls on young,
healthy Americans
to forgo getting flu shots this year so that more vaccine
will be available
for members of Congress. President Bush notes that
additional vaccine "could
be hidden somewhere in Iraq."

John Kerry, campaigning in North Carolina, kills a raccoon
with a hatchet.

In aviation news, SpaceShipOne, the first privately funded
manned rocket,
breaks free from its mother plane, soars 62 miles above the
earth, swoops
gracefully back to Earth, rolls to a stop on the Mojave
Desert and files for
bankruptcy.

Abroad, Yasser Arafat collapses and is taken to a
hospital, where his
condition rapidly worsens and continues to worsen until
nobody thinks it can
get any worse, but somehow it does. "It's really bad," says
a hospital
spokesperson. "We've never seen anybody achieve this degree
of worsening
without kicking the actual bucket."

Osama bin Laden, who has not been seen or heard from in
quite a while,
releases a video in which he states that he is "willing to
listen to offers
from satellite radio."

In other international news, Afghanistan's historic first
democratic
elections go off without a hitch, except for an unexplained
27,500 votes
from residents of Palm Beach County, Fla.

[luvmetender]

(Part 2)

Speaking of elections, in . . .

NOVEMBER

. . . the 2004 U.S. presidential election campaign, which
has been going
on since the early stages of the Cher Farewell Tour, finally
staggers to the
finish line. John Kerry easily sweeps to a 49-state
landslide victory in the
exit polls and has pretty much picked out his new Cabinet
when word begins
to leak out that the actual, physical voters have elected
George W. Bush.
Democrats struggle to understand how this could have
happened, and, after
undergoing a harsh and unsparing self-examination, conclude
that red state
residents are morons. Some Democrats threaten to move to
Canada;
Republicans, in a gracious gesture of reconciliation, offer
to help them
pack.

The post-election recriminations and name-calling continue
for more than a
week, until the public, realizing that there are still
important issues that
affect the entire nation, returns its attention to the Scott
Peterson trial,
which finally ends with the jury finding Peterson guilty of
being just
unbelievably irritating. The verdict means sudden
unemployment for thousands
of cable news legal analysts, who return to their caves to
hang upside down
by day and suck cows' blood by night until they are called
for the next big
TV trial.

Meanwhile there are big changes in the Bush Cabinet, the
most notable
involving Secretary of State Colin Powell, who announces his
resignation
after returning from a trip to find all his office furniture
replaced by
Condoleezza Rice's. Attorney General John Ashcroft also
announces that he
will leave the Cabinet to resume private life as a frozen
haddock.

Dan Rather also resigns, on orders received via the secret
radio in his
teeth.

In other presidential news, thousands attend a festive
dedication of the
70,000-square-foot William Jefferson Clinton Presidential
Center in Little
Rock, next door to the 90,000-square-foot William Jefferson
Clinton
Presidential Cafeteria.

As the nation enters the holiday season, the festive mood
is dampened by
the intrusion of grim reality, as 137 Americans die in
vicious predawn
aisle-to-aisle combat over deeply discounted
post-Thanksgiving Christmas
sale items. Congress vows to remain on recess.

Abroad, the big news is the presidential election in
Ukraine, where the
government, citing exit polls, declares that Viktor
Yanukovych has defeated
Viktor Yushchenko. Hundreds of thousands of outraged
Ukrainians take to the
streets, protesting the fact that they cannot remember which
Viktor is
which. Many threaten to move to Canada.

Meanwhile, the condition of Yasser Arafat, already worse
than anybody
believed possible, somehow worsens still more, until it
becomes so bad that
Arafat no longer responds to a medical procedure known
technically as the
Hatpin Test, at which point he is declared legally deceased.
After a funeral
service attended by a large and extremely enthusiastic
crowd, he is buried
in several locations.

In sports, a Pacers-Pistons NBA game in Detroit turns into
a riot after
Pacers star and rocket scientist Ron Artest, hit by a cup
thrown by Fan A,
retaliates by charging into the stands and attacking Fans B,
C and D.

Explaining his actions later on the "Today" show, Artest
says he thought he
"saw weapons of mass destruction."

Speaking of sportsmanship, in . . .

DECEMBER

. . . the pro baseball world is stunned by the
unbelievably shocking and
astounding and totally unexpected news that some players may
have taken
steroids. "Gosh," exclaims baseball commissioner Bud "Bud"
Selig, "this
could explain why so many players suddenly develop 200
additional pounds of
pure muscle and, in some cases, a tail." Seeking to restore
fan confidence
in the sport, the players union and the team owners, in a
rare display of
cooperation, agree that it will be necessary to raise ticket
prices.

In Washington, the Cabinet shuffle continues as John
Hargrove resigns as
secretary of interstate affairs upon being informed, after
four years in
Washington, that there is no such Cabinet position. "Under
the
circumstances," states President Bush, "he did a heckuva
job."

On the military front, the president, in a move that
sparks international
outrage, announces that he is sending Ron Artest to Iraq.

Meanwhile, the dollar continues to decline abroad, largely
because of what
U.S. Treasury Secretary John Snow describes as "French
waiters."

In other international news, Iran continues to heatedly
deny that it is
developing nuclear weapons but is unable to offer a
plausible explanation as
to why it purchased 200 pounds of enriched uranium on eBay.
The United
Nations, reacting to this crisis with unusual swiftness,
resolves to do
nothing.

In Ukraine, weeks of massive street protests finally lead
to a ruling by
the Ukrainian Supreme Court that there must be a new
election between the
two Viktors, only this time, "they have to wear name tags."
The protesters
attempt to go back indoors, only to discover that their
shoes are frozen to
the streets.

Meanwhile, Yasser Arafat continues to worsen.

And he is not alone. As we look back on the events of
2004, we sometimes
get the feeling that the whole world is worsening. It would
be easy to
become depressed about the future, and yet . . .

. . . we are not. As we approach the end of the year, we
find ourselves
feeling hope, optimism and a warm glow of happiness. Why?
Because we've been
hitting the eggnog. We recommend you do the same. But
whatever you do: Have
a happy new year.

[twonky]

Originally Posted by luvmetender

Meanwhile, in another blow to the U.S.-led coalition effort
in Iraq, Spain withdraws its troop, Sgt. Juan Hernandez.

This one made me laugh.

Funny stuff!

[telos2000]

Originally Posted by twonky

This one made me laugh.

Funny stuff!

I thought it was the other Juan.