To those calling for withdrawal: No, we're not going to quit before the forces of evil are routed. Not when we're so close to victory. Even if it takes 100 years, we will never, ever, cease our quest to impeach Bush.

Granted, it may get discouraging. But every time I begin to ask myself why I'm doing this, something always shows up to distract me. Most recently, it came in the form of a letter from one brave soul. A mere 37 years old (name withheld) has championed the cause and suffered for it. I hope his story inspires you the way it has me.

-- Mikael of impeachforpeace.org.

Dear Mikael,

It all started one night when I was talking to my friend on the phone. We were discussing the best way to impeach Bush when suddenly we heard a strange clicking noise. It was like someone had picked up the receiver on another line, but different, and more sinister. We paused for a moment then continued. I went first,

"I think the FBI is listening to us. Switch to the code words."

"Why would they listen to us?" my friend asked.

"Code words!" I reminded him.

"Oh, um, spoon rocket splindledum Bush... how do I say impeach again?"

"Brad Pitt!"

The clicking sound had turned into static and then a man's voice limped in,

"... and I'd like three bean burritos with a grande nacho supreme and ..."

Just as quick as he faded in, he faded out. Clearly Karl Rove was trying to make us THINK they weren't listening to our conversation. I knew what this meant. It meant he knew they knew that we knew that he knew. The static itself cleared with silence taking its place.

"Phew! Our phone line just got mixed up with Taco Bell again," my friend naively proclaimed.

"Fool, that's what they want us to think. Never mind, I'll talk to you in person." I scowled at my friend's incompetence.

The CIA was surely onto us now. I biked over to his mom's house and we went down to the basement, where we always go to hide from Bush, when all of a sudden...

The most wicked bloodcurdling cowboy laugh rang out in the darkness and two red burning eyes crept in from the darkness. They were the color of HATE, no, worse, the color of Bush. As he crept closer, I suddenly realized how tall he looked; then I noticed part of it came from his giant hat. As he crept closer still to my friend's night light, I saw him a bit better than I could on TV or in my nightmares, and he was scarier than I had previously imagined.

I was petrified. He lunged out at me. Something in me made me move. I kept a locket around my neck with a bit of raw oil in it just in case. I broke it on the floor and backed off, only to see Bush stoop to the ground like a ravenous beast and slurp it up. I tried to run away. Then Karl Rove stumbled out of the broom closet and smacked me with a diseased mop. Cheney came down the stairs with a shotgun and spoke the most terrifying sentence I've ever heard,

"I seeeeeee you."

"No Cheney, aim to the left of him, that way you'll hit him." Karl sneered.

Then, for the first time in my life, I decided I wasn't going to run anymore. I was going to stand up to Bush for breaking my arm last summer, for stealing my homework so it would look like I never did it, for leaving the toilet seat up, and for tapping my phone calls.

"Leave me alone Bush, I'm not afraid of you anymore!"

"Then you will die!" Bush screeched. "I can shmell the oil on you!"

That was too scary for me. I ran up the stairs into the light and dialed 911.

"BUSH IS TRYING TO KILL ME! PLEASE, HELP! IMPEACH HIM QUICK! HE'S GOT MY FRIEND!"

All they did was laugh. Clearly they worked for Bush. I locked the basement door and ran to my house, curled up in a ball and cried for the whole weekend.

On Monday I ran to the forest to call my friend. I began dialing his number when a man in a plaid shirt walked by and said,

"Excuse me, why are you poking that pinecone?"

"I'm not poking a pinecone, I'm calling my friend to impeach Bush."

"Ok... sure." he replied as he continued to look on confused. Had he never seen a phone before?

The phone rang forever. Eventually I gave up. I walked home and saw that my friend was waiting for me. He seemed different. He said he didn't remember anything. I was trying to help him remember when suddenly my Mom interrupted,

"Honey, who are you talking to?"

"Mom, I'm talking to my friend. He's right here, duh."

My Mom looked at me like I was from Mars. Then she speed-dialed some number and said to the person on the other end of the line, "He's doing it again."

Doing what again? Trying to protect the world from Bush?

The next day, my friend was gone, as if he never existed. Come to think of it, I can't remember his name or anything about him. Weird. My Mom took me to this man in a nice building and made me lie down on this bed thing with a white sheet on it, then tell him what happened for like two hours.

I told him everything. While he scribbled away on a clipboard, I told him how Bush stole my homework and listened in on my conversations and would make me whistle Beach Boys tunes on Thursdays for three hours and twelve minutes. I told him how Bush hunted me for my oil and how his tax cuts for the rich caused global warming. It was exciting to share this with another. I thought he might help me, but he was working for Bush.

Before I knew it, I couldn't move my arms. They put some leather sweater on me when I was asleep, that was sewn together so I couldn't move my arms. The walls all around me were soft. I would bounce off them. Somehow I knew that if I bounced enough, Bush couldn't get my oil.

These men in white suits would come in sometimes. Ladies in white suits too. They told me I made it up. I knew they were sent by Bush to brainwash me the way he did everyone else. At first I resisted. Then I realized I could pretend to believe them and they would eventually let me go. They did.

And here I am, ready to serve to impeach Bush for ruining my life.

Sincerely,
(name withheld)
* * *

Update:
At the request of the author, we have removed his name from the letter as well as the address of his Mom's basement.

Update#2:
In response to a flood of emails, we would like to state that the original author of the letter and "Mikael" of impeachforpeace.org are not the same person despite his known history with mental institutions, established behavior of sending himself letters and pretending they are written by fans, and having the same birth date and address as the author of the letter.

Update #3:
Due to a dispute involving a squirrel and Mikael over the possession of a pinecone, and the undisclosed conflict, which resulted and may or not have involved public nudity and tree-groping, Mikael has been admitted to a mental institution to receive urgent care once more and will not be reporting for The People's Cube until further notice.

<img src="/images/Mimesweeper.gif" width="281" height="400">

Please put this on the motherpage...It's so close to convention time.

Everytime I see that image of The Mime™, I think that's what Buddy Holly would look like on crack and meth.

Junkie Josh had a look on his face like that 2 nights ago.

Nice update.

Release the Chihuahuas!

Laika the Space Dog wrote: Release the Chihuahuas!

Oh, this is hilarious. The intro is like one of his "Peach of the Week" blurbs.

He recently posted this piece of pasted poop and for some reason it reminds me of a despondent Jimmy Stewart jumping off a snowy bridge on Christmas Eve:

http://impeachforpeace.org/impeach_bush_blog/?p=5448

The Mime's friend, David "Gloria" Swanson, has finally approached his well-deserved star moment: Bush is coming to his native Charlottesville for the 4th of July speech. The nerve this war criminal has!

Swanson is involved with the Charlottesville Center for Peace and Justice (CCPJ) (CCCP-1 anybody?) and they are planning to disrupt Bush's appearance with their broadcast just like the CCCP-1 program disrupted the 'Mericanski broadcast with its progressive truth!

Swanson is active in the local media, promoting his cause without his usual extreme stuff, and the media is giving his a free pass without checking out his writings on the CCPJ site. Or maybe checking them, agreeing with them, and therefore staying mum - as progressive journalists always do. It gives them the buzz of being part of the revolutionary struggle. The struggle, of course, consists in a willful lying to the public, thus engaging in a conspiracy against American political institutions. But hey, what else is new in the world of progressive journalism?

Charlottesville's only daily newspaper is called - I kid you not - The Daily Progress!
<br>Swanson's efforts are countered by a blog named Welcome To Charlottesville, President Bush - the refuge of local 19 percenters.

This story will give me nightmares until Bu$hitler is removed from office, one way or another.

In regards to the newspaper of Charlottesville, if there are any that doubt it is the Daily Progress, let them take themselves to the nearest Re-Education Center now! I can vouch for the really true truth of the Daily Progress, since Charlottesville is my home town...or at least, my birth town (I grew up in the Army, which is my mother and my father...don't ask me how that works genetically). The Daily Progress is *not* the newspaper of the Univ of Virginia, but of the town itself.

Red Square wrote:The Mime's friend, David "Gloria" Swanson, has finally approached his well-deserved star moment: Bush is coming to his native Charlottesville for the 4th of July speech. The nerve this war criminal has!

Swanson is involved with the Charlottesville Center for Peace and Justice (CCPJ) (CCCP-1 anybody?) and they are planning to disrupt Bush's appearance with their broadcast just like the CCCP-1 program disrupted the 'Mericanski broadcast with its progressive truth!

Swanson is active in the local media, promoting his cause without his usual extreme stuff, and the media is giving his a free pass without checking out his writings on the CCPJ site. Or maybe checking them, agreeing with them, and therefore staying mum - as progressive journalists always do. It gives them the buzz of being part of the revolutionary struggle. The struggle, of course, consists in a willful lying to the public, thus engaging in a conspiracy against American political institutions. But hey, what else is new in the world of progressive journalism?

Charlottesville's only daily newspaper is called - I kid you not - The Daily Progress!
<br>Swanson's efforts are countered by a blog named Welcome To Charlottesville, President Bush - the refuge of local 19 percenters.

(I grew up in the Army, which is my mother and my father...don't ask me how that works genetically).

Well, you see, Bob, a Mommy Army and a Daddy Army who love each other very much....
(Welcome to the Cube, comrade.)

Congratulations, Jak! For your excellence in the field of Mimesliming, you have been selected as Pinkie's Beet of the Week!

This prestigious and highly coveted award includes the following:

--An extra ration of beets.

--A bumper sticker for your mom that says "My Child Was Beet of the Week at ThePeoplesCube.com"

--The opportunity to buy a coupon book good for $25.00 worth of goods and services at your favorite restaurants, boutiques, and mini-golf joints, yours for only $100.00.

--A T-shirt sporting the above graphic that you can wear for the next week! (Sorry, we only have it in Junior Miss Size 3.)

NOTE: Please make sure the shirt is professionally drycleaned (no starch) before returning it when your reign as Beet of the Week is over.

The mime?

Can anybody redo that video into "All I want is Bush"?

In the new version, George W. will be going about his duties in the White House and personal stuff, while the Mime from impeachforfun.org and David "Gloria" Swanson will be stalking him with a gang of midgets. Including the King Kong reference, where the gigantic Mime takes Bush to the top of the Empire State Building.

When I first met Rudolph on the internet I thought he was so sexy. At his Friendster page:

https://profiles.friendster.com/1081224

he really sounded fun. He sounded like a guy I would like to meet; a really nice left-wing kind of guy. On his Friendster page he even wrote:

"About me: It isn't all about me."

I thought, wow, that's so cool. And in the "Who I want to meet" section he wrote: "alive, exciting, kind, thoughtful, gentle, strong, intelligent, informed, principled, humble people who don't hate." and that just made me melt because when I read that I knew we just had to be soul mates. I like "humble people that don't hate" too! So I told Uncle Cha-Ching about Rudolph and of course, you know, Uncle Cha-Ching said that's exactly the kind of stuff a pick-up artist says. If that were the way he really was, he wouldn't say it. "He's no good, Margaret. But you're young, go out and get an education if that's what you want. You'll see. These left-wing creeps are all alike." But I'm looking for a nice idealistic left-wing man so I had to find out. I went on a date with him.

We were in the car going to the restaurant and Rudolph said, "Hey Margaret, have you heard the Bush knock knock joke?" I said no and he says, "Knock, Knock!" So I say, "Who's there?" and he says, "Bush!" So I say, "Bush who?" But instead of a punch-line he let out with this big noisy fart, really disgusting, like he's been building it up all day. And then he starts laughing like his fart joke is the funniest thing in the world. And it really stinks, his fart, in that little eco-car he was driving. He laughed about his fart joke all the rest of the way to the restaurant, just couldn't get enough of himself. But that was just the beginning. In the restaurant all he could talk about was Rudolph, Rudolph, Rudolph. It was all about him. How he was saving the world. How people beg him for interviews. How his website is crushing the imperialists. How impeachment was all his idea but it was stolen from him by Gloria Swanson. Oh, he hates Gloria. Gloria stole his idea and now Soros pays Gloria a huge salary, Soros pays everyone a huge salary except for Rudolph. Soros only gives Rudolph enough money to pay expenses and he droned on all night about how underpaid and under appreciated he is by Soros.

And anyway, that was my date with the big left-wing idealist. An evening of little girly-girl whining at a crappy, funky tasting, organic restaurant with a clown that couldn't stop talking about himself and everything he hates.

Sounds like... um... "fun".

Dare I ask what he did when he dropped you off?

I went on a date with Rudolph too, Margaret. I was really, really disappointed when I found out he was really a man. He totally had me fooled, Comrades -- I was totally fooled.

Chairman M. S. Punchenko wrote:I went on a date with Rudolph too, Margaret. I was really, really disappointed when I found out he was really a man. He totally had me fooled, Comrades -- I was totally fooled.

Eeewwwwww....

On that subject....

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Chairman M. S. Punchenko wrote:I went on a date with Rudolph too, Margaret. I was really, really disappointed when I found out he was really a man. He totally had me fooled, Comrades -- I was totally fooled.

That's odd, Chairman. I also went out on a date with him (one of the many losers Red Square keeps fixing me up with), and found out he WASN'T a man.

Or at least not a real one.

OK Gang, as they say in Pythonspeak...Let's Play "Spot The Looney".

Our first submission is from Gloria himself, using a technique he mastered at The Blair Witch School of Cinematography. Clearly a 96th Percentile film masterpiece.


And here's a crash course on Fascism....Bush brought it to our shores!

People are complaining about the "censorship" of security guards hauling away people like that during Bush's speeches claiming that they are being denied their freedom of speech. But no one would complain if someone got hauled away from a movie theater, or a stage production for doing the same thing....

And in the "Who I want to meet" section he wrote: "alive, exciting, kind, thoughtful, gentle, strong, intelligent, informed, principled, humble people who don't hate."

I could be wrong, but I think he wants to date a Boy Scout.

You will all feel better after your taxes are raised. Be patient.

Political Stock Update:

Bushitler Evil Consolidated (BECX on the NYSE) has risen from a previous low of 19 points to a new record high of 23 points. Fears of a war with Iran has military industrial complex investors scrambling to buy up shares driving the stock upwards.

In related news, stock in Democratic Congressional Machine and Tool (DCMT) has reached rock bottom and started to dig.

Maybe they'll hit oil!

A US soldier gives a better and more meaningful pantomime than all Mikael Rudolph's life's work combined.

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Red

That was fuckin' Bee-A-ute-a-full.

10 squared better than the pussy Mime™