sure sign of the times, Congress gave a blanket approval to any military budget requests from president Bush Friday.

In an effort to quickly pass a military budget to cover next year—and the exciting promise of future military operations—both the House and the Senate conceded that what was necessary for the defense of the United States and its aggressive acts overseas was surely better decided by the president than by countless Washington insiders just there to fatten their pockets.

"Now I'm a politician, not a militaritician," said Speaker of the House Dennis Hastert (R-Illinois), "nor am I knowledgeable of what words mean. But the president is a well-informed man with infallible decision-making powers. That's all I need to know before I approve him for whatever he needs. Policeman and firefighters are the real heroes."

After months of arguing over details, according to one Washington insider, members of the House stopped the quibbling by loudly speaking out of turn and saying maybe they were just fighting with each other because of partisanship.

"Well, no one wanted to believe it was true," said Rep. Jose Serrano (D-NewYork), "but we thought it might be possible. That made all of us feel none too good, let me tell you."

It was at that point they agreed the president was better prepared to decide how billions of dollars would be spent on the military projects for the future. Only he had the close contact with the Joint Chiefs of Staff and other military officials, and only he knew what was planned for U.S. military actions next year.

The Democrat-controlled Senate quickly followed suit, approving the measure in record time.

"Our fellow representatives in the House are on the right track," said Senate Majority Leader Tom Daschle (D-South Dakota). "We can't expect the president to stop doing all the things he has to do to come down here and ask us for money. He's busy making plans, and these plans affect the lives of millions of Americans. And if he's going to send them into battle, we better make sure he has the state-of-the-art equipment and funding they need."

The Senate roared with approval, although one minor voice in the background, a suspected Democrat, was heard to say, "Are you fucking crazy?"

On Saturday Daschle met with President Bush in the oval office with a giant blank check for a photo opportunity as Congress handed the president his open budget for 2003.

"Now just fill in the amount for whatever you think is fair, Mr. Bush," Daschle said, shaking hands with the president. "Keep our boys fighting as long as you think it's necessary. Just don't go buying anything all nutty like a Star Wars defense system or something," said Daschle with a laugh.

"It's not nutty, it really works," Bush snapped, turning red. "It can destroy 9 out of 10 nuclear missiles aimed at us by Russia agents or attacks from outer space."

Daschle then refused to give the check to Bush, saying he had to examine the date and make sure it was correct. He promised the check would be returned to Mr. Bush at a later time.

rison—the school of hard knocks and hard anal penetration. They say once you go in, you never come back the same. And Yasser Arafat knows that's true.

Arafat spent more than a month in confinement by the Israelis, what he calls "the hole," trapped in his office like every American middle manager's nightmare. It had been called "the hole" since three years previous, actually. Arafat, held trapped by the Israelis for his alleged connection to terrorism throughout Israel, became a martyr for his people's cause while inside, much like Nelson Mandela, had Mandela previously been the leader of a terrorist organization.

"They accuse me of terrorism?" said Arafat from within his compound a month ago, while under siege. "I spit on their donkeys and slap their turtles' asses with shame. They are the terrorists. Tormenters, monsters… Nazis, fascists! Okay, maybe Nazis didn't make much sense. I just want to be hurtful."

But once you're on the inside, your political ideologies only get you so far. Arafat had to find a way to keep from going crazy on the inside. Crazier. He turned to the library and the weight room.

"It was important to expand my mind, to change myself while I'm in there so I would not make the same mistakes when I get out," said the buff, newly re-educated political figure. "I built up my biceps and triceps, I put on ten pounds of nothing but muscle and finally lost this accursed neck waddle. What? Oh. It's still there?

"While inside I worked out my mind as well, doing squats with my cerebellum and clean-and-jerking my grey matter. I studied my case exhaustively and taught myself law. I was going to represent myself, if needed be, and I was going to be a free man again."

Under the political boos of the rest of the world, and an overwhelming scarceness of actual evidence, Israel reversed its decision against Arafat little more than a month later and declared him a free man. He was given a new pressed suit, a $100 bill for his work in the laundryroom, and emerged from his compound a free man. He then turned and went back inside since that's where he lives.

It was more than a little frightening doing hard time for Arafat, he said upon his release. The violence of prison keeps you from ever really letting your guard down. He had been sexually assaulted three times and brutally beaten twice before he started fraternizing with certain anti-Semitic groups on the inside, just for survival. As soon as he was a free man again, and returned to his compound, he fired all those responsible for the beating and raping.

But the Palestinian leader promised not to let the experience change him.

"In some ways you can never be the same," he said, bench pressing 200 lbs. in his office Saturday. "But you try to remember who you were and pursue that once you lose your stripes. I'm dedicated to a Palestinian free state and that's what I went up the river for. I'll continue to fight for that. I may be different, but I'm only hardened in my resolve. And possibly more violent. The blood will run like chocolate in Willy Wonka's factory."

"In childhood I first discovered music. For my birthday Dad gave me a fiddle, and a year later, for another birthday, he gave me a bow. I was so happy when fiddle met bow and made beautiful music. Or failing that, sharp screeching sounds that I enjoyed.

Dad never paid for any lessons or allowed me to read any books on how to play fiddle because he thought that would be cheating. Nor would he allow me to play outside the home because he thought it would permanently ruin our family name. But once I was home from school and barricaded myself in my room, I was free to wail away on my fiddle and teach myself how to play.

Of course, that never happened. It was a fiddle. I had no concept of music in the slightest, I couldn't tell a G string from a G-string like the kind a stripper wears. I never even knew if the thing was in tune or not, it was really unfair of Dad to give me a fiddle without even a book or anything. What did he expect me to do? Learn how to play from the brilliant members of my family? Stephanie played a little piano and Goose played a little craps. Not the kind of braintrust you can rely on for a musical education.

I didn't even learn until three weeks ago that a fiddle and a violin are the same instrument. I was disgusted to learn I had been playing a classical instrument the whole time. My dreams of being a world-champion fiddle player were instantly dashed. Which is to say they were probably dashed years ago when I realized I couldn't even play 'Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star' after 20 years with the damned thing.

You can imagine how frustrating it was when I found out Dad was a world-champion fiddle player himself and never mentioned it to me. He could have at least showed me how to hold the bow so the string part was touching the strings of the fiddle, I only learned that yesterday."

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