Wednesday, August 10, 2005

VACATION MONTH

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By Elaine Meinel Supkis

The daily death toll rings a bronze clang, the voice of the dying, a whisper on the hot winds that chase dust devils across the blighted land. At home, Bush is on vacation. He sits in his airconditioned house and is flown in and out by helicopter, those black helicopters the right wing so fears fly him in and out of his New World Order Headquarters.

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