Victory Soap v. 2.0

I'm doing it wrong, apparently -- what I really should be doing is blaming my misfortune on America and asking why the president won't fix my life. I mean, that's what all the other losers honest, upright citizens who just want a Fair Shake do. And while you're at it, Mr. Prez, they'd like pots of gold to be left on their doorstep. And for their pick to win American Idol.

Mr. President, why did you let me miss my rent payment? Mr. President, why did you let me get in over my head in debt? Mr. President, why won't you pay my bills? What's wrong with this country????

(Sits back. Waits. Odd -- no one has appeared at my table to offer me so much as a free day at Disney World. My God, the world is ending! ABANDON ALL HOPE.)

I saw a recent example of this attitude in the Orlando Sentinel a few weeks ago. Crime has gone up in certain neighborhoods here. Whatever the reason for the crime rise, a group of local families egged on -- I mean, um, compassionately recorded and photographed -- by a Sentinel reporter wrote a letter to President Bush asking him to help stop crime in Central Florida. The article was accompanied by a picture of sad-faced little Hispanic kids standing in front of their apartment block holding up the letter. A letter. To the President. No really, how could he refuse to fly in with his special Super Pres suit on -- these were sad little Brown Children!

We will never get anything fixed in this country until we quit thinking of the president as being the only grownup in the land.

(Via Kathy Shaidle.)