by James Kent
Wherever he is, Osama bin Laden must be laughing his ass off. No matter how remotely he may have hidden himself, word of the American's foolishness must have reached him by now. I can envision the scene in my head, a courier on a motorcycle burns down a pocked and dusty road, comes to a stop at a camouflaged hideout, runs quickly inside and bows before his master's feet. "Oh great one," he says to his sworn leader Osama. "The American's have done it. I have seen it on Al-Jazeera myself. They have finally passed the Homeland Security Bill!"
Osama laughs wickedly, harder even then when the World Trade towers fell, his evil cackles echoing throughout the cracked and rock-strewn landscape.
Just why is Osama tickled? Because this is exactly what he wanted all along. The terror attacks themselves were just a prod, a flaming stick thrown on the anthill to get the ants running scared, too frightened and confused to realize they were trampling over and destroying the very things they hold most dear. And our queen ant, the mighty George W. Bush, may be the most confused and frightened of them all.