Sacrificial Hawks
May 14, 2008 by The Colonel

A man of action. Very slow action.

Everyone makes sacrifices during times of war. Some lose their sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, mothers or fathers. Some lose their limbs, and others their very lives. And while these sacrifices are noble, some lose something even more precious: their desire to play golf.

In a recent interview with Politico, President Bush stated, “I don’t want some mom whose son may have recently died to see the commander in chief playing golf.” He continued, “I feel I owe it to the families to be in solidarity as best as I can with them. And I think playing golf during a war just sends the wrong signal.” Some could say that bringing home troops or even shortening their stays in Iraq would be the better ways to show solidarity, but those people are also known as traitors. President Bush knows what’s best for our troops, and he’s willing to let them die to prove it. That’s a man of principle!

The change of heart occurred when he was interrupted during a game of golf to be informed of the deaths of U.N special representative Sergio Vieira de Mello and more than a dozen others, who were killed by a truck bomb in Baghdad. This inconvenience was enough to force him to quit golfing for the duration of the war. Let’s face it, learning that a bunch of your soldiers just died completely wrecks your golf game. Trust us. We have plenty of experience.

This is why, in solidarity with the President, we are asking (read: demanding) that our entire staff give up something they love until the war is over. Basically, it’s like a never-ending lent.

We asked around, and this is what a few of our dear Slantmouth staff members are giving up.

Intern TI-3462
He's scared and alone. Hold him.

Well, the only things I really have left of any value are my shoes. Can you guys just take the laces or something?

The answer is, of course, no.

Test Monkey #42, Enhanced Brain Research
He refuses to wear his diaper.

Well, that is a rather perplexing conundrum, you see, I am a monkey. I don’t really require much, and my needs are mostly taken care of. Bananas, the occasional romp with a lady monkey. My desires are rather simple. Oh, I’ve got it. The feces flinging. I’m quite tired of it anyhow, and no one else seems to enjoy it as much as I do. Yes, that’ll be it. Throwing of my own feces. I should write that down somewhere…

Screaming Robot Model Q-10
Even a pillow over the face doesn't stop the screaming.


Let’s hope he comes around on giving up the screaming.

Research Assistant Tony
He's not very good at pretty much everything.

I’m torn between coke and prostitutes… how about only on Fridays?

See, war is about sacrifice. Sacrifice that comes from every man, woman, and child of this great nation, and while we don’t have the sort of motivation they had during WWII to ration or build planes, we can do something we’re already rather good at: nothing! Slantmouth asks you to ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you should stop doing for your country!

~The Colonel