Secretary of State Rice, a Surgeon in Galoshes
Condi Rice staggered into the operating room where American Israeli-Palestinian credibility lay on the table, fighting for its life. She knocked over an IV stand, bumped surgical instruments onto the floor and made a snap-judgment as to the clinical procedure required. "Hold all liquids." Galosh, galosh.
“Dr. Mubarak will take over,” she blurted, “assisted, if necessary, by that Saudi guy, Prince something-or-another.” Galosh, galosh.
Unsure of precedent, fired off like a rocket by a president who has suddenly remembered Palestine and Israel, insecure in this new job that actually has responsibilities for what one says, Condi is knocking down hornet’s nests again.
Can’t someone put this woman on the no-fly list?
Fortunately, calmer heads are prevailing in the steady, unchangeable, dictatorial capitals she visits, hoping to whip up interest in doing the wrong thing. She and the cabal back home that tops up her fuel-tank, hope to cut the legs out from under the newly elected Palestinian Ham…