he Bush Administration sighed a whistle of relief this week with the news that Cindy Sheehan, the mother of a US soldier slain in Iraq who had been standing vigil outside the president's Texas ranch for over two weeks, had finally gone home to California to care for her ailing mother.

"Clearly, the creator has made his will known," Bush intoned smugly, as lightning crackled in the background and the lights inside the president's Crawford, Texas ranch dimmed momentarily.

Sheehan had drawn considerable national media attention to her vigil in recent weeks, becoming the focal point for criticism of the president's handling of the war in Iraq and making a tidy sum selling lemonade to the massive news crews that had assembled. But her mother's recent stroke came hot on the heels of news that Sheehan's husband of 28 years had filed for divorce, causing some religious nuts and the president of the United States to suggest that God doesn't like her.

"The Lord works in mysterious ways," philosophized Bush further, apparently suggesting that Jesus doles out strokes like some kind of celestial blackjack dealer.

When asked if he worried that his comments might be construed as insensitive, the president grew tense for a moment. "I didn't say 'bitch' again, did I? You heard me wrong; I meant 'beavered.' 'Bereavered.' You know, one of them fitty cent words," explained Bush, brushing a dozen locusts off his ink blotter.

Critics have taken Bush to task for refusing to meet with Sheehan, who wanted to ask Bush what her son had died to accomplish. With his approval numbers dropping like a concrete blimp, the president opted to change his Sheehan-dealing strategy from his morning ritual of randomly firing his shotgun in the air while shouting "Bitch, get offa my lawn!" to the more politically expedient tactic of ignoring her completely.

This required having a tunnel dug so Bush could exit his Texas ranch without passing by the depressing protestors camped out front.

"It was great, just like The Great Escape," reminisced Bush, who took no part in the digging of the tunnel but did buy a six-pack of lite beer for the three itinerant laborers who survived the tunnel's construction and frequent cave-ins.

However, neither the president's hard-to-get act, nor sending his sloppy drunk brother to drive his pickup truck over roadside memorial crosses in the middle of the night, did anything to shake Sheehan's resolve. Meanwhile, frequent unexplained events at the President's ranch in the last week, including blood flowing from the faucets, the Bush twins coming down with catastrophic diarrhea, and the failure of the sun to rise at all on Saturday has some religious scholars and Christians who have actually read the bible questioning if God really is on Bush's side this time.

But before the commune could address this issue with the president, the Secret Service discovered we'd cornered Bush for a candid in-pantry interview, sans handlers, and burst in with guns drawn. Thankfully for the cause of news, this reporter was able to sneak out with the story's notes inside a false leg, which drew surprisingly little scrutiny in spite of the low number of three-legged reporters in Texas.

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Dear commune:

Ed Phillips here again. Just had to let you know you guys were on the right track again with that teenage pregnancy issue. It's an unbelievable epidemic. I've gotten four teenage girls pregnant in the last six months. The problem is uncontrollable.

Back in my high school days, nearly 20 years ago, the girls were properly shamed for straying from society's moral compass. Three of the teenage girls I impregnated as a young man left town quickly to see abortions in states where they were easily obtainable.

Who's to blame? Call me old-fashioned, but I say it's the parent's fault. When parents finally stop blaming schools and T.V. violence and guys like me, then they can focus their attention on being better parents.

Ed Phillips
Hackensack, NJ

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Dear commune:

You guys should do something about Omar Bricks. That son of a bitch is seriously close to crossing the line. He has no right to lecture anyone on the dangers of smoking. I have been smoking for ten years and with the exception of one collapsed lung I have had no problems.

My dog has been smoking for 2 years now. Is he unhealthy? Hell no! Sure, he isn't as fast as he used to be but that's because he is an old dog and only has one leg left. Do you think that is funny? You are heartless bastards. And you should definitely do something about that Omar Bricks.

My dad is a tobacco man from way back. He used to raise tobacco, before the tractor accident robbed him of his own head. But if he could dad would be here smoking alongside me and Rags.

I usually enjoy Omar Bricks' "My Friend Polio," but not anymore! I'm starting to wonder if someone's at the wheel of the commune, if you know what I mean.

This is not in response to a specific article, but I can tell by the way Omar Bricks stares at me while I'm reading "My Friend Polio" with a cigarette in hand that he is one of those non-smoking bastards who would lecture me and my dog if given half a chance. I will not stand for this!

Also, tell Bricks to stay the hell away from my sister. Again, just a preventative measure.

No longer a happy reader,
Ira M. Bumquist
Fayetteville, NC

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Dear commune:

My T.V. is once again on the blink. Is this what you call quality service?

Angry customer,
Bridgette Hardy
Montpelier, VT


Dear Bridgitte:

We are sorry you're unhappy with your commune service. Our aim is customer satisfaction; when we fall short, we have no one to blame but ourselves.

Our only desire is to keep our customers happy. We appreciate your alerting us to lacking service, and we shall do our best to remedy it. Quality is the only word one should associate with the commune. We are working to make the commune better and your comments are crucial to that, and important for us to hear.

Also, we do not manufacture T.V.s. We are a website. You must have purchased your television elsewhere.

We are express-shipping to you a clue.

the commune

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Editor's Note: the commune is not responsible for the content of letters or the opinions expressed therein. The opinions and content arrive to us sealed in the envelopes tightly and there's no way we can get inside except to open them. Believe us, we've tried alternative methods and it never works out.º more columns

Somebody just told me the other day that the big thing these days is reality TV. Apparently there's some show where a bunch of idiots are stuck on an island and they have to do goofy things every week to survive. I told that dope that Omar Bricks has been hip to Gilligan's Island for years, but it turns out he was talking about a different show. Just goes to prove the saying that everything old is new again. Except Bob Hope, damn. That guy's so old his odometer rolled over and they're putting single-digit candles on his birthday cake again. If I ever get that old there'd better be some magnificent future world for me to sit around and bitch about, that's all I can say.

I guess the thing now is that everybody's got cameras in their houses and people sit around and watch other families on TV, that's the hot thing right now. When I was a kid they kicked your ass for that kind of thing, but I guess it's all kosher now that it's Alice Cooper's family or whatever on TV. It is kind of funny when he bites the head off of shit at the dinner table, but I still think The Munsters did it better, and first. I don't remember anybody gossiping back then about whether or not Grandpa was going to beat breast cancer, there must've been more going on in the world back then.

People apparently can't get enough of this reality stuff, even if it sucks. Actually especially if it sucks, from what I've heard. These people wouldn't know a good reality show if it snuck up behind them and made them bungee jump naked into a pie tin full of rats. If this isn't a situation screaming for Bricks-style intervention, then neither was last month's slot car racing semifinals.

It's obvious that what the world needs is a dose of true reality, Omar Bricks-level reality. The good shit. So I've taken as my solemn duty to outfit Osaka with Ramrod Hurley's stolen home video camera and gave her specific pantomimed instructions not to let a single morsel of Bricksian reality go untaped from now on. I even got her a shirt from the show COPS so people won't hassle her for filming in casinos or strangers' backyards or other such normally taboo locales.

If these people think Alice Cooper getting a rubber chocolate Easter bunny lodged in his colon is entertaining, they've obviously never seen what an actual real person can do with an air cannon that shoots tennis balls on fire in Amish country.

I'm not sure what we're going to call the show, maybe something clever like "Run, It's the Cops!" with Omar Bricks or maybe The Masked Reality Badass if I anticipate legal hassles. Some dude told me they already have that show and it's called Jackass, which you can guess got him stuffed down a port-a-john like instant magic. If there's one thing I won't tolerate, it's insults disguised as information.

Some might ask how a guy who's never seen a reality show is going to revolutionize the genre, but that kind of thinking is the exact reason you're not a genius yourself. All the hot new shit comes from guys who don't know what the hell they're doing. Just look at the Beatles: Half the time they didn't even have the tape running the right way and Paul held his guitar all retarded and backwards like he'd never seen one before. I hear sometimes they even let the freakin' drummer sing, not exactly a batch of Julliard grads. Mozart himself didn't know thing one about music, how could he? Dude was only five when he died. When I was five, I thought swearing into a kazoo was music. But people back then were sick of all that bullshit harpsichord music and they went ape for some kid dicking around on a piano. And that changed music forever.

By the way, if you happen to see an Omar Bricks-looking dude jogging down your street with a diminutive Asian camerawoman in tow, try to cover up any corporate logos you might be wearing. I don't think we've got the budget for that shit. Thanks.

Bricks out.

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