Did I Miss Anything?

WASHINGTON (HAND) - John Roberts was confirmed by the Senate and sworn in as Chief Justice of the Supreme Court today.

He immediately sprouted horns and a forked tail, removed a pitchfork from his briefcase, and consumed the entire U.S. Capitol in hellfire.

When asked what his first priority was as Chief Justice, Roberts said he would immediately work to dismantle the First Amendment, particularly its provisions for freedom of the pr

The FEMA Director that Would Not Leave

Ordinarily, if you screw up royally at your job, you get fired. But as this article makes plain, if you're the politically connected former head of the Federal Emergency Management Agency, you stay on to consult. To wit, the paragraph:

"Brown, who ran FEMA for more than two years, has a two-week 'transition' remaining at the agency, during which he will advise the department on 'some of his views on his experience with Katrina,' Homeland security spokesman Russ Knocke said. He is receiving full pay."

Beyond "I screwed the pooch big time," I can't for the life of me imagine what "views" he could possibly have.

We Have Always Been At War With East Asia

BATON ROUGE, Louisiana (HAND) - President George W. Bush said on Sunday that Congress ought to consider giving the U.S. military the lead role in "just about everything."

Bush has spent the last several years sending the military into Afghanistan, Iraq, and most recently, Louisiana and Texas to help with those displaced by Hurricanes Katrina and Rita. Today, at a news conference at U.S. Northern Command in Colorado, Bush said: "Are these guys great or what? You send them places and they do cool shit with all sorts of shiny-looking gear. We should send them everywhere!"

Maj. Gen. John Frink, who briefed Bush at Randolph Air Force Base in San Antonio, urged him to create a national plan for "a large military presence everywhere in the country, and in several other countries of the Military's choosing."

Illustrating the disorganization in Katrina's wake, Frink recounted an incident in New Orleans in which five helicopters showed up at the same time to rescue one person.

"That's the sort of simplistic thing we'd like to avoid," Frink told Bush. "One sniper could have taken that guy out much more easily."

Bush said Congress would have to consider whether the Defense Department should take the lead role in "all activities of any nature." But he said, "If they don't vote for it, we'll just send in some grunts in Blackhawks to neutralize 'em."

Louisiana Sen. Mary Landrieu, a Democrat, expressed reticence about that approach.

Landrieu said the military has a strong role to play "but so do our governors and our local elected officials."

"I mean we do have a democracy and a citizenship that has elected mayors, county commissioners and governors particularly," she said.

In response, Bush said, "Huh?"

Holy Fucking Shit

Our top story today: Hurricane Rita barrels down on the Texas coast, flooding neighborhoods in New Orleans that had already been flooded by Katrina.

A group of people trying to escape in Texas were killed when their bus exploded.

In related news, God was quoted as saying, "Should have listened to those crazy street preachers, huh? Too late now, motherfuckers."

Closed for Hurricane

I regret to inform my loyal readers (both of you) that The Hand is closing today so that I may flee the onslaught of Hurricane Rita.

I realize the hurricane is hitting the Gulf Coast and I'm in New York, but you can't be too careful.

On a related note, I have been informed by my wholesalers that the hurricane is affecting the Texas snark industry. I shall until further notice have to pay higher prices for my daily snark. While this will doubtless affect my already meager profit margin, in the interest of fair play, I promise not to pass on the extra cost to you, the consumer.

Yes, indeed -- for the highest-quality snark at a fair price, look no further than The Hand.

We Can All Dream, Can't We?

Bush Resigns, Says "This Just Ain't Fun Anymore"

Advises Residents to "Panic and Flee" as Rita Bears Down

WASHINGTON (HAND) - George W. Bush resigned the presidency of the United States today, saying that with a massive cleanup effort in New Orleans, and the prospect of another hurricane bearing down on his beloved Texas, "this job just ain't fun anymore."

"It was fun a couple years ago," said the president in a prime-time address from the Oval Office. "You know, we got to send Marines to blow shit up. But these days it's just one damn hurricane after another."

With Hurricane Rita expected to hit the Gulf of Mexico as a Category 4 storm later this week, Bush grew emotional as he touched on the religious faith that has been a keystone of his presidency.

"It's obvious Our Lord and Savior is trying to tell me something," Bush said. "His wrath is nigh, and I'm advising residents along the Gulf Coast to flee the coming cataclysm."

Bush appeared distraught during the address, which was broadcast on all major news networks, Country Music Television, and TBN.

Bush was dressed in his customary dark suit, clutching a rosary in one hand and what appeared to be a faded blue blanket in the other.

"The voices in my head tell me it's time to run, run fast, don't let them find me," he said. "Embrace the coming Rapture."

Bush's resignation takes effect at 9 o'clock tomorrow morning, a White House spokesman said. But it was unclear when Vice President Dick Cheney would take the Oath of Office, since there is currently no Chief Justice of the Supreme Court to administer it.

When asked about the dilemma, Cheney stirred and mumbled, "Huh?" before rolling over and going back to sleep.

Kreskin Returns

Well, I must say, I didn't expect to be proven right so soon. Now, let me see if I can make it 2 for 2: tomorrow's story will be something along the lines of, "U.S. says, Let's Keep Talking to North Korea, Maybe the 4,973rd Time Will Be The Charm."

Oh, and The Hand wishes to high-five my buddies at Daily Gusto -- fellow New Yorkers and a great source for commentary, good links, and attitude. Go read them right away.

Now Performing: The Amazing Kreskin

Yes, business owners are going back to New Orleans to re-open their businesses to ... other business owners. And Bill Clinton is throwing caution and ex-presidential decorum to the wind and calling Bush a scrotum-sucking ass-pounder or some such (I admit I didn't read that article very closely).

But my favorite story of the day is this one, in which North Korea promises it will never, never, never play with those naughty nukes ever again, unless it feels like it or something.

Using my awesome powers of prognostication, I predict that within the next week there will be a story with a headline reading something like, "North Korea Says It Was Only Kidding."

Just Throw Money At It

NEW ORLEANS (HAND) - The federal government's plan to plug New Orleans' breached levees with money is proceeding well, officials say.

Crews have been stuffing dollar bills into the gaping holes since Monday. Officials say while 40 percent of New Orleans remains underwater, that number is expected to decrease "once Congress comes through with the rest of the $200 billion."

Some fiscal conservatives are expressing alarm at the prospect of using such massive federal outlays as, virtually, spackle. One Heritage Foundation source, who asked not to be named, said: "What about old newspapers, huh?"

New Orleans officials immediately blasted such naysayers as "heartless Republican shitheads," and said, "Hellooo, major disaster here. Fuck the deficit. Fork over the cash, bitches."

President Bush has ruled out raising taxes as a way to pay for the infusion of levee-plugging cash. The president says he does not think the cost of rebuilding New Orleans, conservatively estimated at $200 billion, will affect the deficit, "at least not till I'm outta here." But he admits, "I never was much good at math."

Three Cute Little Puppies and Six Adorable Little Kitties Forgotten in Katrina Aftermath: Rumor

NEW ORLEANS (HAND) - Three cute little puppies and six adorable little kitties were left in a pile of their own ordure by animal hospital staff who escaped the rising floodwaters without so much as a thought for the helpless little critters, according to a rumor by a guy I talked to on the corner.

"Yeah, I heard they were the cutest, most adorable little puppies and kitties you ever saw," the guy said, "and a guy over on the next block says they were living in their own shit."

The guy could not say whether the helpless, wide-eyed little cutesy-poos were rescued by brave civilians who heard their pitiful little cries for help and braved filth- and vermin-strewn waters to pull them to safety, or whether the little puppies and kitties were left to die hideously by a callous federal government that hates blacks, Jews, gays, Muslims, and the handicapped.

The story of the cute, cuddly, doomed animals is just one of a number of rumors that have been circling in the pestilential hellhole that once was New Orleans. A guy a few blocks away swore he'd heard someone talking about an 86-year-old woman who had to drag herself and her adorable 6-year-old great-granddaughter to safety with her teeth when "some pig-assed cop" told the pitiful woman, "fuck you, lady, I got mine."

The source could not immediately confirm or deny other rumors that the grandmother's clothes had been stolen by looters, leaving her to dress herself in rags and (according to another guy across town who heard it from his brother) used toilet paper.

Coast Guard Vice Adm. Thad Allen, principal officer of the federal response to the hurricane, chastised the media - the saintly, intrepid guardians of truth and justice - for "spreading these unsubstantiated, uncorroborated rumors. I think it only serves to cause hysteria at a time when we most need to keep our heads," he said.

The rest of Allen's press conference was cancelled when someone shouted, "Hey, this guy across the street said he heard about a woman who had to eat her own child to survive!" Four journalists were slightly injured in the resulting stampede, along with two gerbils from a nearby school, who had their cute little heads bashed in, I swear. I saw it with my own eyes. It was awful.

You Never Know

WASHINGTON (HAND) - Today the federal government announced its two-pronged plan to boost revenue for Amtrak and, simultaneously, to cut down on inconvenience for airline passengers: driving two major airlines into bankruptcy.

"We believe that the bankruptcy of Delta and Northwest will have a very positive effect," said Transportation Secretary Norman Mineta. "Not only will it virtually eliminate all security-related delays for passengers of both airlines, it will also be a windfall for our nation's passenger rail system, which has been running at a substantial loss."

Air travelers The Hand spoke with said: "That probably is why they folded. Bastards."

Sober, Intelligent Political Discourse

WASHINGTON (HAND) - Supreme Court nominee John Roberts jousted with Democratic senators Tuesday at his confirmation hearing to be chief justice, dodging their attempts to pin down his opinions on abortion, voting rights, and what color shirt goes with tan pants.

Roberts said he felt it was "settled as a precedent" that "basic black, maybe a nice burgundy" was the ideal shirt color, but that the Constitution provides a right to privacy as far as clothing choices are concerned.

"People expect that that the color is going to be what's in the J. Crew catalog, and you know, nothing too wild," Roberts said.

But when senators pressed for details on his opinions - even to the point of interrupting his answers - Roberts said repeatedly that he shouldn't make a judgment about whether wine-colored shirts are acceptable in case the court should be asked to consider that question.

At one point, Sen. Joe Biden, D-Del., who has indicated he may run for president on a "paisley" ticket in 2008, interrupted Roberts: "Go ahead, go ahead and advocate such a boring color palette."

But Roberts kept his cool. "With respect," he said, "I have addressed the argyle question, and with respect, my answers are not misleading," he said.

If confirmed, the 50-year-old Roberts would be the youngest chief justice in 200 years, with the exception of Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr., who was 12 when confirmed.

Democrats and Republicans see no major obstacles to his winning Senate approval, although Biden said, "I'm sure we'll think of something."

The nominee dismissed any suggestion that his Catholic faith would influence his decisions if he were confirmed. If Roberts were chief justice, there would be a record-high number of Catholics on the court, all of them very well-dressed. The Roman Catholic Church strongly opposes T-shirts, jeans, sneakers, and red wine with fish.

"My faith and my religious beliefs do not play a role in my choice of beverage," Roberts said in afternoon testimony.

On other issues:

-Roberts rejected the notion of finding precedent in foreign law. Or domestic law, for that matter. In ruling on the use of the death penalty against minors, the Supreme Court this year noted that while it "sounds like fun," it was "just not OK." Roberts said that sort of citation is a "bummer."

-Roberts said the Constitution specifically gives the power to declare war to Congress, so there.

You Can't Make This Stuff Up

In the New York Post: "Louisiana's chief of disaster recovery will lecture in New York today on how to prepare for a catastrophic flood."

I can only imagine what this lecture will be like.

"First thing you want to do is, you want to sit on your ass. No need to get spooked just because a nasty old hurricane is barrelling towards you. What's a hurricane anyway? Just a lot of wind. Wind is just air. Who needs to be afraid of air?

"Next thing you want to do is, you want to tell people, if anyone's afraid, they should mosey on out of the city any old time they feel like.

"After the hurricane hits, if there's anyone who hasn't moseyed yet, you should shove them in a big football stadium and slam the door. That way you don't have to look at 'em. You might also want to get out your Band-Aids and Scotch tape, in case any problems happen with your levees.

"And then, a couple days later, you should complain that the Federal government didn't get its people to you fast enough. Any questions?"

Excuse me, sir -- I have a question. Why didn't you cancel?

The Cipher at Ground Zero

I wrote this in August of 2003. Many, if not most, of the details have changed of the "master plan" for the World Trade Center site. "Rebuilding officials" would say it has "evolved." I say the general points of this essay remain the same: that whatever is built at Ground Zero will be a) very expensive and b) unsatisfying to everyone.

Except for one thing. It's more than two years later, and almost nothing has been built at Ground Zero. The "rebuilding officials" say: "Any minute now we'll be ready to start the final preparations for getting ready to build something."

I say: It's worse than I thought. These days I think the Port Authority should have just broken the site up, sold it to private developers for bazillions of dollars, and spared us all the subway fare hike.

As it is, we're stuck with the Cipher at Ground Zero.


One summer day, 10 or 15 years from now, you step off a commuter train into the vast, ultra-modern transit hub under the World Trade Center. As you come up to the concourse, shafts of sunlight pour in through the massive skylights. You stroll past well-appointed, prosperous shops and take an escalator up to Fulton and Greenwich Streets. You walk north, through a glittering piazza where, on the morning of every September 11, the sun shines without shadow. You turn back toward the southwest through the Park of Heroes and walk down a ramp into the site, where -- 75 feet down, surrounded by the bare slurry walls of the original Twin Towers -- you pause and reflect at a soaring, yet tasteful memorial to those lost. After lunch, you take a high-speed elevator to the top of the world's tallest building, the Freedom Tower, and gaze in wonder at the hanging gardens.

That's one fantasy. Here's another:

You step off a bus into a dank underground garage, built right on the spot where 2,792 people were brutally murdered. As you come up from underground, the sunlight is blocked by a "Blade Runner" nightmare of glass and steel office buildings. You think about strolling down to the memorial, but it's always so crowded -- nearly 20,000 people visit every day. You could grab lunch in the neon-lit food court of the Mall of Ground Zero, but that, too, is crowded with tourists. To your left, you see the dust and exhaust rising from the West Street Tunnel Project -- still unfinished after all these years, an urban embarrassment of Big Dig proportions. And atop the world's tallest tower, there are no hanging gardens -- just a very big antenna, so folks in Brooklyn and New Jersey can get the TV reception they deserve.

The first scenario is the one described with great fanfare last January, when Daniel Libeskind's "Memory Foundations" was officially chosen as the design for the Trade Center site. Since then, a chorus of civic groups, Lower Manhattan residents, and victims' families would have you believe we're heading for the second scenario.

Who's right? What will the new World Trade Center really look like?

That's the multi-billion dollar question, and unfortunately it has a five-cent answer: Nobody knows. And no one will until the last construction crane gets hauled away.

But having observed the rebuilding process since September 11, 2001, I can offer two predictions about the new World Trade Center: 1) it will be very expensive, and 2) it will satisfy nobody.

If this sounds pessimistic, don't blame me -- blame the process. It can have no other outcome.

Let me illustrate this by asking you for one more fantasy. Say you own a house, and someone burns it down. Catastrophic, to be sure. But after the initial shock, you take a trip through the court system, collect whatever restitution and insurance you're owed, and build yourself a new home. Perhaps you take the opportunity to build yourself a better home. You have no one to consider but yourself: "What do I need? What will I need ten years from now? In the basement -- carpet or area rug?" And after awhile, if all goes well, you end up satisfied.

Unfortunately, you don't own the World Trade Center. It's owned by a quasi-governmental agency, the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey. (So maybe you do own the World Trade Center -- you and me and about 28 million other residents of those two states.) The Port Authority is an appointed body, answerable only to the governors of New York and New Jersey -- and Ground Zero ain't in New Jersey. So calling the shots is Governor George Pataki- a man who, as the New York Post likes to point out, has "no known architectural or urban-design credentials."

But for better or for worse, Pataki's in charge, right? Actually, no. Because the WTC is also controlled by developer Larry Silverstein, who -- in the worst imaginable case of bad timing -- signed a 99-year lease just six weeks before the planes hit. Silverstein's lease declares that, should the property be destroyed, he gets to rebuild it as he sees fit, with whatever architect he wants, and with as much office space as before.

Okay, so it's Larry Silverstein's ball game. Only it isn't. Because after the attacks, Governor Pataki and then-Mayor Giuliani got together and created another quasi-governmental agency, the Lower Manhattan Development Corporation, to oversee the rebuilding. The LMDC is appointed by the Mayor and the Governor. So the Mayor has a say in this too.

Confused yet? It gets worse. The World Trade Center, you'll notice, is in Lower Manhattan, home to nearly 58,000 people. Many are rich. They vote and pay taxes. And they're engaged in the process: poll numbers from Pace University show more than 60 percent of downtown residents follow the rebuilding process most or some of the time, and nearly 70 percent talk about it with their neighbors.

And let's not forget the hordes who commute to Lower Manhattan each day -- 120,000 of them from New Jersey alone, and thousands more from Long Island and the 'burbs. Most of these people work on Wall Street, and it's not too much of a stretch to say the financial sector pays the bills for the city and state of New York. So we gotta keep those commuters happy.

Finally, the World Trade Center isn't just an office complex or a tourist destination. It's the site of the worst terrorist attack in history, with 2,792 victims according to the New York City Medical Examiner's office. Many of those victims' families are vocal, well-organized, and have the media's ear. And let's be fair: the victims' families are just people who, through no fault of their own, have suffered an unimaginable loss. They're trying as well as they can -- as well as you or I would -- to make that loss mean something. They are understandably concerned about preserving the legacy of their loved ones with dignity and respect. That legacy is all they have.

But, as the media are quick to point out, "We all lost something that day." We are all victims. And so the World Trade Center belongs to everyone.

Imagine having to go around to everyone in the world and ask: "In the basement - carpet or area rug?" You can just hear the cacophony that would follow: "Hey, what about berber?" "Have you considered a parquet floor?" "Let's just rebuild the original floor, to show those terrorists we're not afraid!"

This wouldn't work to redecorate your house, and it doesn't work on the biggest and most complex urban construction project in history. No rational decisions can be made in such a climate -- and none are being made.

More office space, says Silverstein. Less office space, say the civic groups. No building on the footprints, say the families. You got it, says Pataki. Wait a minute, we have to build a little on the footprints, says the Port Authority. And let's move the signature tower over here, says Silverstein. But it's my design, says Libeskind. Not anymore, says Silverstein - we're using another architect. Lose the hanging gardens. And lose that sunken memorial, say downtown residents -- who wants to live next to a mausoleum? But we need to remember, say the victims' families. And lose that underground bus terminal. No sweat, says the Port Authority. But what about the millions of tourists? says the LMDC. What about our neighborhood? say downtown residents. Fuck you, what about us? say the lower-income folks on the other side of town. And I haven't even mentioned the firefighters and police officers who want separate-but-equal recognition on the future memorial. Just thinking about it is enough to make you want to lie down in a dark room.

With such a multitude of competing interests, what's happening is that decisions are being made by random chance based on whatever pressure happens to build up at any given moment. And the result will be -- well, as I mentioned, nobody knows. When that last crane drives away, the officials in charge will congratulate themselves on the "compromise" they've built. And all of us will visit the expensive mish-mash they're talking about, but no one will be satisfied.

Until a hundred years from now, when no one will remember it was ever any different. When no one will remember the original Twin Towers -- my kids already don't -- or the tortuous process it took to replace them. This is the third thing we can learn from the so-called "rebuilding process," as we've learned it from the terror attacks themselves: we'll get used to it. Eventually.

The Day That ...

It's been four years since 9/11, the day that changed Am ... no, wait a minute, too cliche. Start again.

It's been four years since 9/11, the day we woke up to ... no, that's not it either.

It's been four years since 9/11, the day Bush and his imperialist ... well, no, not exactly.

What the fuck does this fucking day mean?

Seriously. What does it mean? There seems to be nothing we all can agree on in the post-9/11 world (look, another cliche) but surely we can come up with some answer to that question.

The attacks of September 11th (or, if you're President Bush, "September the 11th") are the most-witnessed event in the history of the world. When I say we all experienced this event, I mean it. We all experienced this event, personally, on TV, in each of our hearts. Since that day, we have gone over and over and over it, in endless recaps and tributes and "special reports." There have been commissions and hearings and investigations devoted to parsing ever-finer points of this event, in the name of telling us "what happened that day" even though we all experienced it.

So why, when we speak of it, does it sound like we're all describing different events?

The fact is, I don't know what 9/11 means. So I won't presume to tell you.

I know this is a disappointment. I'm writing about the 9/11 anniversary. Surely I should tell you, at least, what I think it means. But what would be the point? Would I change your mind? If you see 9/11 as the day we woke up to a terrorist threat and resolved to drain the swamps of oppression wherever they appeared, nothing I say will stop you. Nor if you believe it was the day Bush and the Neocons (and there's a name for a punk band if I've ever heard one) took up the banner of American capitalist imperialism and mired us in a global war from which it will take years and many deaths to extricate ourselves.

For me, the 9/11 anniversary is mostly about work, pain, and exhaustion. Unlike most people, I do not have the option of turning off my TV on this day -- so I also cannot wrap the event in meaning. Meaning pales before the sight of those faces, the sound of those names.

No doubt this won't always be. No doubt we will someday be able to point to the events of September 11th, 2001, and say, "This is what they mean." But not yet.

A Game the Whole Family Can Play!

"Let's not play the blame game." You hear that a lot during national debacles like the one down south -- usually from the people being blamed. "There's plenty of blame to go around." They say that a lot too.

It's become a commonplace in this country that no one is to blame. We're all human. Everybody screws up. Malicious behavior may deserve blame, but simple incompetence does not.

Nonsense. Incompetence is not always excusable. In this case, the incompetents are people we delegate to plan for large-scale emergencies so we don't have to spend all our time planning for them ourselves. If there's anyone who should be chosen on the basis of competence, it's the folks at FEMA. But it appears Michael Brown was chosen on the basis of his political connections. He's to blame for botching the operation. His superiors are to blame for hiring him.

And President Bush is to blame for a supreme act of incompetence. I hesitate to give more ammunition to the Bush-is-evil crowd, but he made the same mistake as Dr. Evil: "I'm just going to sit here and assume everything goes as planned. What?"

So this is one of those times when we need to point fingers -- now, not later -- to make sure incompetence doesn't happen again. We need to point the stern finger of blame and say, "You screwed up big time and people died needlessly. You should be ashamed of yourself."

Indeed, there is plenty of blame to go around. What fun! Fire up the shit-spreaders.

You Just Don't Get It

In the New York Post today, Steve Dunleavy writes: "Radio North Korea ... I mean National Public Radio ... made you believe that it was all Bush's fault because he didn't put up his hand and say, 'Hurricane, go away.'"

Well, no. You can't make a hurricane go away. That would be silly. So it's a good thing Bush didn't say that.

Of course, Bush also didn't say, "Gee, this looks like a big one. Maybe we should put some emergency management personnel on alert, just in case."

Bush also didn't say, "You mean it's two days later and none of our guys are even there yet? What the ----, Brownie?"

Bush also didn't say, "Gosh, we're screwing this up big time. Maybe I should get my ass off the Barcalounger and head back to Washington."

But Bush did express deep concern over the loss of Trent Lott's home. One of them.

Greetings, People of Earth

Here's the vital stats:

Once upon a time, there lived a professional news hack. Never mind where. Never mind how. At some point in his short but glorious career, this hack decided that such concepts as "journalistic objectivity" were a major drag. He grew tired of letting "balance" get in the way of a few good jokes. He decided to get in touch with his inner snark. He acquired a taste for the hand that feeds him. The Hand was born.

In this little space, The Hand wields the pen that's mightier than the sword, the pin that punctures pretense. This is where The Hand gives the finger to stupidity and self-importance. (One may argue that The Hand displays those traits himself from time to time, but The Hand has no problem with civilized argument.)

The Hand declines to give much in the way of identifying details. He feels it's not who he is that's important, it's whether he makes you snarf coffee all over your screen.

So let the games begin. The Hand is now open.