Someone please explain to Rickey why it took a month of deliberation for our esteemed Decider in Chief, George W. Bush, to arrive at the decision to ship more troops over to Iraq. Because Rickey doesn't get it. Rickey can be fairly dense on occasion. In fact, up until recently, Rickey was under the impression that "Call of Cthulhu" was actually a memoir by a Brazilian telemarketer. But that's a story for another time.
The way Rickey sees it, you either send a whole lot of troops, or you just pack it in and call it a day over there in that apocalyptic funhouse of horrors (or "cradle of civilization," if you will). Kind of a no-brainer really. It's not as if Iraq is offering to trade us Anna Benson for 20,000 troops. So why the prolonged pondering O Great One? And why was it necessary to ponder in such ostentatious fashion?
Rickey hasn't seen such overt ruminating since Tom Glavine whittled away the entire month of November trying to choose between going back to Atlanta or staying with the Mets. (And that was torture for poor Rickey!) Mr. President, it's not as if you spent weeks of drawn out meditation with a sherpa high up in the Alps. Take a page from Rickey's playbook. When Rickey needs a timeout to reflect on things, he flips on some Enya, lights a mood candle, disrobes, and cavorts naked in front of a mirror. But hey, that's just Rickey's way of clearing his mind.
So you spent a long time pondering. Rickey suspects you're compensating for something Mr. President. Rickey is willing to concede that President Bush is a lot smarter than the American public gives him credit for and merely talks down to the American public because that's what they want in a leader. But Cthulhu forbid the President of the United States come off sounding like a smarter guy than Rickey.
Rickey especially enjoyed Bush's announcement of the troop increase, shot in front of a bookcase in the White House library. Why not deliver the speech from a leather armchair, "Masterpiece Theater" style with the Brandenburg Concerto playing at the opening? Why not wear lots of tweed, smoke a pipe, and gesticulate excessively while revealing your secret plan to prevent the entire Middle East from catching fire? Allistair Cookiemonster blowing bubbles out of a fake pipe would've done it better and Rickey knows it.