Dear Attorney General Mukasey…

For you, we'll just count the first 10.

For you, we can ignore a couple of tablets.


950 Pennsylvania Ave., NW

Washington, DC  20530


Dear Mikey,


  I was browsing the intertubespaper while waiting for a flight today and saw that you have declared violations of the law to be legal.  Mike, you are My kind of lawyer.  Ever since I semi-retired from the deity business I’ve noticed that fewer and fewer people truly understand the nuances of lawgiving.


  You are just the sort of pussy-footing, hard-charging back-peddler that I could have used back in My younger days.  A man like you could have gotten behind My policy of making laws and excepting certain people in certain cases.  Just like Me, you understand that there are people, our kind of people – Chosen People, who just shouldn’t have to answer for what they do.


  I saw that you also said, There is a principle of equity that we all learned in the schoolyard, and that remains as true today as when we first heard it: two wrongs do not make a right,”.  Hear, hear, Mikey.  You know, it’s just like when I told those kids to stay out of My yard and to keep their filthy mitts off of my apples.  I warned them.  So when they did it anyway I cursed everyone in the world for the rest of time… oh, wait.  Hang on.  That’s two rights.  I can’t think of any wrongs I’ve done, actually.  Okay; it’s like if you fool Me once… I won’t be fooled again…  Oh, you know what I mean, Mikey.  Am I right?


  You understand that sometimes you’ve got to kill Job’s wife and kids to win a bet or send a couple of she-bears to eat 42 kids when they laugh at your buddy’s bald head.  A guy like you would have been useful back when Baal and a few others were trying to replace Me as Leader of the Free World.  It almost makes Me want to get back in The Game.


  Of course, some of the people you hang out with give Me the creeps.  And if I came out of retirement and hired you, Little George might expect Me to answer his postcards.  Me knows I’ve carried his useless ass long enough already, just because his Dad got Me out of a jam with the shore patrol in 1943.  Then there’s all the Gawd-Botherers always wanting Me to smite people… primarily PZ Myers and Richard Dawkins, for some reason.


  No, on second thought, I think I’ll stick with vacation.  I mean, you do a nice job of making the law sit up and beg while telling morality to piss off, but I think I’ll leave all the ruling-the-world stuff to you youngsters.


Wish You Were Here,




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