I didn’t want to come back. Truly I didn’t. I finally had all the time I needed to devote to my hobbies. But recent events have gotten just too screwed up for me to ignore any longer.
See, I have something to say.
I was sitting with Carl and Mo just the other day and was catching hell for the current state of my beloved Republican Party. Now, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to put up with this nonsense. I had to screen my calls continuously for three straight years in the mid 60’s because Mo wouldn’t leave me alone. He kept crank calling me and leaving messages with my secretary, including a now infamous lark where he claimed to be Lyndon Johnson calling from the toilet in his Texas ranch. We eventually made peace, Mo and I, but things were terse until the ’76 Democratic primary shut his pie hole for good.
But you can’t keep a good asshole down and Mo’s about the biggest horse’s ass there is. Needless to say, he’s given me nothing but shit for the past 6 years. Carl’s been easier to bear. He just sits there smiling and nodding his head in that annoying little way. He says he doesn’t blame me for the state of the GOP, but I know he’s thinking it.
When I died in ’98 I thought I was leaving my party in pretty good hands. We elected Reagan, finally stuck a shiv in the Reds, took back Congress and ushered in what looked to be ideologically conservative golden age that promised to restore the Founders’ promise of a limited, competent Federal government. It should have been inevitable that we were on the road to low taxes, fiscally responsible government, economic liberalism, smart trade policy, strong foreign policy and the restoration of personal liberty. Little did I know just a few years later the GOP I left behind, my GOP, would elect a functioning retard who would end up pretty much destroying everything I built.
I’m not the only one who thinks this by the way. You should hear Reagan go off. Ron is just about as cordial a public figure as one could ever hope to meet. Kind of dumb, but alert and affable. Like a puppy. We don’t really travel in the same social circles but on those occasions where we bump into each other he has nothing kind to say about the current state of American politics.
“Barry”, he says, “I knew that kid was a world class douche from the moment I met him.”
Those are harsh words coming from Mr. Morning in America, but spot on in my opinion. Personally, I only met George Bush a couple times but I wanted to punch him straight away. I didn’t like him at first because he was a mean spirited, boozy frat boy. Later, I disliked him when he went all Jesus on me. Displaying, even then, a penchant for being a world class ass hat, he nicknamed me “four-eyes”.
As in, “Hey, Four-eyes, you accepted Jesus Christ as you personal savior yet?”
Damn Christians. I tried to warn you about them before I left. But no one ever listens to Barry. Never trust a man who drinks too little or prays too much I always say. You went and elected one who does both, and things have predictably gone straight to hell.
Which brings me to this.
As I was saying, Carl, Mo and I were sitting around and Mo was off on his usual rant, kicking my ass over Bush, the war, and the wretched state of our country. Finally I’d had enough and said, “Goddamn it, if America can’t see the road to ruin that its on, then I’ll just have to go down there and make ‘em see it. “
Once again, it’s G-Man to the rescue.
Carl sort of smiled, approvingly, and even Mo seemed impressed. Regan was all for it and advised me to, “Win one for the Gipper”, like I haven’t heard that one a million times.
Of course when I suggested he come down with me he gave me some bullshit about having other plans. Typical Reagan. I like to get out there and get shit done. Dutch is more of a leisure hound, always quick with a joke and a smile but gone like a fart in the wind whenever work needs to be done.
Here’s the thing: I rescued the GOP from oblivion and gave it the balls it so desperately needed. I also set forth a pretty solid ideological foundation for Conservatism. Individual liberty, constitutional republicanism, and the highest respect for personal freedom. It was pretty good stuff, and I was fairly explicit with it. But somehow you all managed to fuck it up.
Warentless wiretapping? Rescinding Habius Corpus? Jeezum H. Crow, did you all collectively loose your damn minds?
You must be. And with this in mind, it’s with great reluctance that I am compelled to return to American political life. Things are just that fucked up.
I don’t expect you all to show the sense God gave you and listen to old Barry. Not right away. It took a while for you to get on board the Goldwater express back in ’64 and I expect to be met with at least a modicum of resistance now, seeing as how I’ve been dead for several years now. Still, if Dick Nixon can mount a political comeback, then goddamn it I can certainly come back from the grave. And things are just that bad for me to remain silent any longer.
I’m back. I’m back to fix my party, my country, and, if necessary, the entire damn planet.
You’ve been warned.
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