resident George "Whitewash" Bush tried to put to rest the media uproar over his service record in the national guard with a brief prepared statement Friday. Bush revealed his mixed feelings for the Vietnam war, saying once and for all his personal feelings about the conflict stemmed from the apparent lack of oil or natural resources for plundering in the country.

"Before I have alluded to personal reservations about the Vietnam war," the statement began. "These were private concerns, but since the media is preoccupied with the past, let me at last tell everyone I believe the war in Vietnam was misguided. I believe any military action that puts men in danger, when there is no profit to be made in oil or rich natural resources, or a lone figurehead to be vengefully removed from power, is wrong."

It was a dangerous statement for a war-hungry president during an election year, an area that could be mined by election-greedy Democrats and any forgettable third party candidates who might appear on public television or radio to complain. Even conservatives who traditionally back the president expressed initial worry about the president's dedication to the war on terror, or plans for a second term war on Iran, Syria, and Rendibaba, a little shit of an island unknown to everybody but rich in coal.

"Make no mistake," press secretary Scott McClellan responded, fielding questions from frothing reporters, "the president has no doubts about military action in Iraq or any country that supports terrorism. The president stands firm on wars for vengeance and resource exploitation. In Iraq we had both."

And the war on terror?

"That falls under the column of vengeance," assured McClellan, drawing a line with his hand. "Column A, vengeance. That's like Iraq, or Panama or something. Florida. Column B, we're talking exploitation of natural resources. President's all for that. I mean, really for that. Sometimes we have to talk him out of invading ally countries like Mexico. Loads of fat, juicy resources down there. Make his mouth water."

The president's statement could be seen as a desperate act by an administration beleaguered with a bad news week, including continued focus on intelligence mistakes and a plea from WMD inspector David Kay for the president to admit there are no weapons in Iraq. A greater problem during the week was the unearthing of questions about Bush's service in the National Guard during the year from 1972 to 1973, and records could only prove he served nine days in uniform that year, unless you count the Good Humor Man outfit he wore during a summer job.

For supporters of the president, the hope is the statement, no matter how unexpected, will allow the discussion to slip out of public light and turn national attention toward things the president likes, such as apathy, or J. Lo-Affleck gossip-dishing. For Democrats, many are optimistic that the statement will further entrench the president in an uphill battle to explain his role in the Iraq war.

"Ya-wa-hoo!" screeched Democrat presidential nominee front-runner John Kerry, who then proceeded to do a sort of jig most resembling a Riverdance theme. Further questions were not answered as Kerry hopped, twisted, and scuttled into the streets outside, in the direction of the setting sun, presumably hoping others would join him as in a Dr. Pepper commercial.

ontinuing efforts to keep the peace in we-torn Iraq turned for the worse with the White House revelation Sunday that the "top card in the deck," the nefarious "Joker," was still running around free in Iraq.

"We have attempted to protect the public from the horrible truth until now," said Pentagon spokesperson Gen. Amos Halftrack. "As is often the case with corrupt fascistic governments, prettyboy figureheads—like Saddam Hussein—are made frontmen for the real enemy. In Iraq, the real power is, and has always been held by the Joker."

With no other name for the suspected Iraqi dictator, U.S. forces and Iraqi police have begun circulating cards with the only known picture of the fugitive, to be added to existing packs of Iraq's "most wanted" cards, and possibly placed in special protective packaging since they're quite collectible. According to the White House, the Joker is behind Saturday's Fallujah jailbreak and other acts of resistance following the capture of Saddam Hussein.

"It was previously believed Saddam Hussein was behind the resistance cells still waging attacks on our troops," said press secretary Scott McClellan, "but that information had been gathered by U.S. intelligence, and we all know how that goes. I'm not saying they're two steps behind or anything, but the latest information they've obtained says Ruben Stoddard is the winner of last year's American Idol."

New information about the Joker sheds a new light on the war in Iraq, the White House claims, and election strategists advise the war on terror could be severely complicated by the revelation. Efforts to find the Joker might be accelerated to locate and arrest the superstar terrorist between now and November.

Reporters lucky enough to get a front seat at the press conference, while some of us were jammed up near the exit door in the back, asked McClellan about rumors he started that the Joker and 9-11 mastermind Osama bin Laden were linked.

"Almost certainly," McClellan agreed. "We have intelligence verifying it."

Saturday brought more bad news out of Iraq, as an attack on a county jail by resistance forces killed at least 25 people, mostly Iraqi police, and wounded more than 30. The number of prisoners freed numbered in the "plenty" range, but at least a quarter of them were speculated to be town drunks and parking violators. The Saturday raid was also believed plotted by the Joker.

"We're talking about an insane criminal mastermind," the Pentagon confirmed Sunday. "Most of those who were wounded were overcome by his deadly laughing gas, while several were killed by exploding pumpkin bombs. Or something. Make no mistake, the Joker is the greatest threat to world peace since Hitler—no, no! Napoleon. Napoleon. He was a sick bastard."

Even the arrest of number 41 on the most-wanted Iraqis list brought no joy to U.S. forces. The so-called "four of spades" Mohammed Zimam Abdul Razaq was picked up in a Baghdad suburb Sunday for the misdemeanor offense of threatening a cash machine that ate up his ATM card. The Pentagon expressed mixed feelings about it.

"It's number forty-one, for crying out loud," said Gen. Halftrack. "Nobody shits their britches over the forty-first NFL draft pick."

It is high time, as a teller of uncomfortable truths, I admitted one of the most obvious: the commune sucks. Or perhaps I should clarify that working at the commune sucks. The distinction might be thought important by some.

Shit you I do not, as Yoda might say. I admit my role in working at the commune has changed several times over the years, and more often than not I am a background character, like the old man who hung out at Cheers, but when brother Gay loomed his large, smarmy head in a few months ago and made a play to take over the publication, I put my nose to the grindstone and basically skinned the hell out of my nose. I worked extra hard, 24-7, 24 minutes of every hour, 7 hours a day, and this shit was not for me, sir. I am not made for a 7-hour work day. I don't know how everyone else here manages the five they do.

I will accept I perhaps have it better than some others, since I own the whole shebang, at least if I can keep Gay at bay, and I receive all the profits, should we ever make any. But it does not change the fact work completely sucks. The severe sucking nature of work cannot even be disputed at this point.

When I started the commune, or changed it from a quarterly Indian reservation newsletter to an alternative news publication, I only wanted to spread as much of the truth as I saw it as I could fit onto the back of pamphlets lifted from teen centers and free clinics. It was fun then, before I had a staff, a budget to be concerned with, and deadlines to heed. I sometimes wish I could go back to those days. Me and Sully, experimenting with mind-expanding medicinal herbs while I wrote my first column about how the 1969 moon landing was just an elaborate Tonight Show sketch aired out of context. Before I had snippy copy-editors knocking on my door to tell me I misspelled simple words and spilled bongwater on all my pages.

Gay Bagel, of course, challenged the commune to show profit as part of his new job as Ulterior Motive Manager, Class VII, and I thought the natural solution was to do what we do that wasn't showing a profit more often and at greater expense. So I took the commune to a weekly schedule and included extra pairs of irregular-fitting jeans as an pay incentive every week. All that has done, it seems, is give me more work to do. Gay doesn't know the first thing about publishing an alternative news website—have fun! The second thing being, of course, never malign Carol Burnett without ample photo evidence to back you up. But the first thing has been completely lost under Herr Bagel. Herr Bagel being Gay, instead of me, for once.

These days I'm in the office up to six days a week, instead of six times a month with the old commune management style. In a way, I suppose I feel I have to answer to Gay now when before I had no boss, I was able to just hang out in my office whenever I felt like it, pants or no pants. After all, if I don't show a major increase in profits, meaning make a profit of any type soon, he'll resume his legal battle to take over the commune again.

Bah. If I had half a brain in my head, which my staff is quick to assure me I do, I would let him have the damn commune. Dig Sully out of those boxes I packed him up in and light up the peace pipe once more. Go back to the old desktop publishing guerilla-style journalism I started with.

Still, I suppose things aren't all that bad. After all, if I can reach one reader, inform him of the deadly conspiracies and hidden injustices of this world, all my work has been worth it. And according to last month's website statistics, we finally successfully reached that one reader.

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