SARS: Our Middle Finger to China

Imagine my disappointment to be on the road, without access to my column, when all the news about SARS was thick in the air. There's nothing worse for a conspiracy theorist than to be stuck in the middle of nowhere without a soapbox when a new disease breaks out.

A lot of people were talking about the WHERE with SARS: Hong Kong, Singapore, Canada. But no one bothered asking WHY—well, obviously I did, but it didn't do me very much good in the Motel 6 off Hwy 29. The cleaning lady only spoke Russian, or was having a religious experience, either is a plausible answer.

Yes, Americans—always ask why? Why SARS? Why China? Why? Because we like you.

A lot of you will probably say that a new strain of flu is not surprising. You say continual adaptations in flu viruses happens all the time. You say in a country of however many-billion people the spread of a new strain of flu is reasonable to occur in such conditions. Well, quit saying that. You're stomping all over my reasoning.

The truth is, SARS is no accident, and it's no naturally-occurring flu. SARS is, frankly, a big fuck you to the Chinese, courtesy of the U.S. All courtesy of President Bush. No, not the second Iraq war Bush, the first one, the one who was elected.

President "Wimp" Bush, former head of the CIA, America's crippling virus factory. Give him credit for thinking of the future—when Clinton was busy planning a strategy for the 1992 election, Bush had already put the Gulf War behind him and was aiming for the 1997 return of Hong Kong to China. Nothing burns a presidential ass more than having to give up territory that rightfully belongs to them, so Bush wanted to make sure China got both barrels of Hong Kong when they got it. That's when they developed SARS in the CIA labs.

As military men know, SARS is code for "Served the Asshole Right, Sarge"—lingo for when a guy tries to sneak away from battle and steps on a landmine, or any sort of similar scenario when you can say the same phrase. Bush himself picked the name for the virus, that's how hands-on he was.

Things got bungled up when Clinton got into office, however, since he was always too busy scouting poontang to worry about all the little time-relevant traps the previous Bush had set up. Bush had even set up a plan to turn Bosnia into the world's biggest Wal-Mart, but Clinton spilled some Big Mac sauce on it and forever ruined the project.

So while Jackie Chan and Chow Yun-Fat were all getting the hell out of dodge in time for the "big Chinese handover," as I just phrased it, the SARS plan was lapsing dramatically. All the chemical agents were in place, they just hadn't been activated by magic button. Bush planned to have his predecessor in place to set off the disease, but hadn't planned on becoming immensely unpopular.

Then, late last year, with his alleged son in the White House, old Bush takes a break out from dog track betting to call up his boy and asks him to push the big green button under the desk—explaining any of the details would have confused the pseudo-president, as all of his aids have come to realize. But the junior Bush made the button go push-push and—bazoom!—China's got the fever for the flavor of surgical masks.

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