Dear George,
Welcome to Britain, Mr. President. If you will spare me a moment of your precious time, I would like to set forth a point of view which many here share, and which might explain the behaviour of some of the people you might meet.
Firstly, I shall remind you that “your” administration (mayhap the possessive is a little misplaced) has a policy. That policy is called assassination. It is not very nice. What it effectively means, George, is that you (and indeed anyone who refuses to condemn such a policy) wish death on people.
Second, this “damn fool war” of yours. Can you honestly put your hairy, simian paw on your little black heart and swear that its principle aim was not to get you re-elected? That you needed a glorious victory, having let slip your ultra-religious ultra-privileged former CIA-employed nemesis in Afghanistan (with the added bonus of oil and Middle East presence)?
Ah yes, the threat. 45 minutes and all that. Suffice it to say that we all know what a load of bollocks (to introduce a little British parlance) that was.
As for the liberation, well now George, please believe me that I and many others might well have supported your invasion if you had looked out from the world’s televisions with your close-set boss eyes and uttered, through those pongid little lips of yours, the words “This regime change is for the people of Iraq. Isolationism is morally bankrupt given their suffering”. Heck, you might even have got the UNSC vote! “Great” I might have said, “Next stop Burma!”
But no. You dismissed the eminently reasonable requests that Hans Blix be given more time. You behaved in a manner which would’ve made Kruschev proud. You did not merely tread on a few toes, you stamped around the party in Soviet style hobnailed boots. Diplomacy became a sign of weakness, and leadership became confused with blatant hegemony. All this barely a year after the US had the sympathy and admiration of the entire world.
Alas, poor Tony Blair. He cajoled. He begged for restraint. He pleaded for responsible statesmanship, whispering into those funny little ears which look like they’re growing from your upper neck. And when you embarked on your Quixotic quest, he looked upon the economic and political advantages of the Special Relationship, decided that they outweighed mere flotsam such as the integrity and principles which made some of his ministers resign in protest, and trotted alongside you like Sancho Panza with atrocious teeth.
And so we come to this. Your visit will cause pictures to be broadcast to Americans of their president being booed, and even mocked in effigy. They will think we don’t like them! I somehow don’t think Fox News will allow me to shout into their cameras “Hold, dear cousins! My love for your positivity and friendliness knows no bounds! We just wish you’d stop voting for knobheads!”
Please understand, sir, that I bear you no ill will, and indeed I have a great deal of sympathy for you. We have all found ourselves adrift in positions we are hopelessly ill equipped to deal with. Yours simply happens to be the most important position in the world.
But should I be watching BBC coverage of your attendance at a function and the camera zooms into close up of your squinty-eyed freakish-eared head just as it is blown off that chimpy little body which looks like your mother Barbara fucked a gibbon…
…I, and others like me, will wonder whether you brought it on yourself (especially if the assassin is a relative of someone you have assassinated), and whether this visit should really have gone ahead in the first place.
Yours sincerely
Dr. S. Meat
One six billionth of humanity
Earth