It is a sad day when all television channels are blaring at me to rejoice that four people have been blown away, among them a 14 yearold kid. Oh, what valorous sportsmanship by the most kick ass military power in the world! The two sons were responsible for the murder of thousands and Uday was a rapist, they say. Not good enough? Well, he also led a playboy lifestyle and was wayward and shot people on a whim. We had to make a big deal out of blowing away a cripple, his 14 yearold son, brother, and some other guy, you understand, because we're currently in a bit of trouble for lying to everyone's face about how this was all about WMD. We have waged a war that has an ever-changing premise and, frankly, we need to manufacture new bullshit day by day. Rumsfeld even set up a BS-maker called the OSP which ignored all that did not suit us and "sexed up" whatever looked slightly formidable. So we're hangin' in there with this welcome turn of events.

Isn't this debacle a little like the frog being gradually boiled to death? The most fervent opponents of the war just feel powerless now and are scavenging through daily details when they should be sticking to their initial argument. As it stands, people have simply forgotten how to perceive, thanks, in large part, to false intelligence, dead scientists, iconoclasm (likened to the fall of the wall or the demolition of communism as I rolled on the floor laughing my ass off), some bible thumping, cowboy jingo, pride-swallowing and, in the case of Tony Blair, madness.

Under circumstances governing the "civilized world", we would never have heard of Dubya or Blair ever again. It is no surprise, then, that the questionable presidency has locked hands with the black sheep of the EU and has hissed at the world for respecting consensus, conventions, human rights, freedom of speech and whathaveyou. I feel it is my duty to keep saying to everyone I meet that the people behind this war are worse than child-molesting pornographers who dance on their mother's graves. I really do.