I am Oz, the Great and Terrible

...but don't look at the man behind the curtain.



Dave Lindorff distills all the evidence that Bush was wired for sound during the last debate in today's Salon. From there, go check out Joseph Cannon for some truly mindblowing, yet entirely plausible, theories about what's really wrong with Bush -- speculation that's only going to intensify in the aftermath of the White House announcement that Bush is skipping his annual physical until after the election.



Speculation about what's going on with Bush -- everything from a pre-dementia condition (Cannon notes that while Bush has always been prone to malapropisms, his complete and utter inability to handle language has been developing over time) to renewed substance abuse, is only going to intensify. Marc Maron had a devastating "Presidential Palm Pilot" bit this morning on just this topic. I'm trying to find a transcription to post, or when the show goes up on Air America Place, I'll try to locate the location in the sound file.*



UPDATE: Corrente has more.



*ANOTHER UPDATE: Thanks to poster "AMSedish" (Thanks, Mark, Marc, "Clutch", Dan, Wayne, etc.!) at the Morning Sedition blog for the following transcript. It's eerily plausible, don't you think?

Presidential Palm Pilot 10-8

(from Air America Radio, Morning Sedition, 10/8/04)



4 a.m. Debate Day. Wake Up in St. Louis in a cold sweat. NOTE: Must score coke, must score coke, must score coke. Call Ramon.



4:30 a.m. Call Ramon again NOTE: Where the hell is he? How are people supposed to score coke in the Midwest? How long would it take Air Force One to go to Miami?



6 a.m. Dangle Kerry debate dummy off balcony. Need confidence builder.



7 a.m. Wake economic advisor. See if it’s too late to buy every voter a car.



8 a.m. Ramon finally comes. Thank you, Jesus.



9 a.m. Party!!!!. NOTE: What do I am I have to worry about? I’m the greatest president of all time!!! Everyone loves me. Thank you Ramon!!! Who-hoooo!!!!! Hail to the Chief!!!!



11 a.m. Curl up in a corner. Weep. NOTE: I can’t do this, I got nothing, there’s no WMD’s, the polls are down, I screwed up the last one, Kerry is a much better debater than I am, Cheney won’t take my calls, everyone knows about the earpiece, I’m SCREWED, SCREWED, SCREWED, SCREWED!!!!!



12-7 p.m. Stare out the hotel window at nothing. NOTE: What does it all mean? No one knows the real me. I just wanted to run a baseball team. I never wanted this. Dad wanted this. It’s always about making Dad happy. Let Jeb do it…



7:30 p.m. Meeting with Cheney. HIS ADVICE: Pull yourself together you stupid hick!!! We didn’t waste billions on you so you could bail out now. Remember, we could take you out anytime, and I don’t mean the race!!! So get dressed, you stupid blow monkey!



9 p.m. Debate. Be prepared to go to “Aide-hands-me-a-piece-of-paper-and-I have-to-go-now scenario. National security. Can’t talk about it. Gotta run. Gotta go do something presidential.”



11 p.m. Bedtime. NOTE: Well, I’ve still got one friend left. Hello, Ramon?