Boot in the Ass

Do you remember this photo?

It stoked the fantasies of wingnut weekend warriors everywhere.

Bremer! In Baghdad! In a suit .... and work boots! So masterful! So powerful! So male. So very Republican!

All over America, little wingnut wanna-be middle management types, tiny penises aloft, told themselves tall tales. "Yes, that's me. Sure I have to wear this awful tie, but underneath it all, I'm a warrior, a hard-ass, a tough guy. My size 12 feet may be crammed into these Bass Weejuns, but in my heart, I'm Army-issue all the way. And we'll get these terrorists yet!"

Oh, Bremer? He's pissed. Somewhere along the way, he became responsible for the insurgency.

No worries, Jerry. Fifty years down the road, no one will remember either Paul Bremer or his daring fashion choices. They'll only remember the Boy King and his choices: all 3,741 (and counting) of 'em.

Loser.

Photo: Kevin Coombs/Reuters