Giblets is Lord

Giblets of the Fafpeople — who is the Lord Of All That Is and, I am reliably told, my secret Santa (thanks for the Gold Toes!) — wants to discuss missile defense:

So on Tuesday George Bush said his plan for a missile defense shield showed he was living in the future. So far into the future he doesn’t have to worry about terrorists anymore.

“I think those who oppose this ballistic missile system really don’t understand the threats of the 21st century,” he said. “They’re living in the past. We’re living in the future. We’re going to do what’s necessary to protect this country.”

Namby-pamby suspiciously-French-lookin’ Democrat John Kerry is plannin’ to take money AWAY from this incredibly important overpriced boondoggle and send it towards expanding the military! Clearly John Kerry is not living in the future! He is stranded way back in the present, when we still needed “troop strength” and “special forces” to hunt down “terrorists”!

George Bush is more interested in the threats of tomorrow, which oddly enough look strangely like the threats of 1980: thousands of intercontinental missiles comin’ across the sea from commie nations, possibly such as North Korea* and France. Our only defense against them? A missile shield that will one day, in the future, fail only about eighty to ninety percent of the time!

Again Giblets is not impressed! Giblets is living even farther into the future, in a time when terrorism and pinko-tyranny are both irrelevant! Giblets demands that we spend 1.8 trillion dollars on an array of massive space lasers pointed outward to defend Earth against the onslaught of immense insectoid invaders who will strike from beyond the asteroid belt! Giblets will not allow the tyrant Bug Emperor to lay its death spores in our atmosphere – and the whiney pleas of those stuck formulating “today’s” foreign policy to secure the former Soviet nuclear stockpile will not get in his way!

There’s really nothing more to say on the subject, methinks. Save perhaps that Giblets is wrong about Bush’s troop redeployment plans. Wait, hold a moment — someone’s knocking on my door. Hello? What can I do for you? Well, actually, I do mind if you come in. What do you mean, “you don’t care”? What the hell are you doing?!! Get your hands off me! That hurts! AHHHHHHH, Giblets, save me! I’ll never stray again! (Gurgle gurgle whimper cry . . . . )

UPDATE: The Gibletsian Apostate DeLong claims that there is some kind of nambly-pambly “Fafblog triumvirate.” Triumverate, sure — at least ’till Giblets gives Faf and Med-Lo a good Ceasering! Release me from this dank cell, Lord Giblets, and I shall be the Prefect of your Prætorian Guard! Ha! We ride a dawn!