Friday, January 21, 2005
I, Witless to History
As promised, here is my on-the-spot report of The Fifty-Fifth Presidential Inaugural Prayer Service, held this morning at The Washington National Cathedral.
First, my assessment of security. <...>
Otherwise, the SS (Secret Service) took every opportunity they could to make us stand erect with our arms outstretched so they could rub their wands all over our bodies. Yes, it's JUST as homoerotic as it sounds. Several of the choir men commented that they had had many fantasies that began just that way.
George H.W. and Bar were already in place .... My 1998 assessment still holds true: she looks great in person, he looks like the Cryptkeeper.
Five minutes AFTER the service was to supposed to begin, the JennaBarbaras traipsed in. JennaBarbara One (the brunette) looked lovely and poised, and a sweet little teal Audrey Hepburn-esque number. JennaBarbara Two (the other one), in winter white, looked, as she always does, a bit...well, dirty. She certainly showed too much cleavage for church, and that's a fact. At least her hair was brushed, not like at yesterday's swearing in ceremony when it was secured by a RUBBER BAND and looked all kookity. The JennaBarbaras weren't hungover THAT I COULD TELL, but I imagine by now they're pretty good at spritzing a bit of perfume in their mouths, pinching their cheeks and sallying forth to meet the world.
The JennaBarbaras were followed in by the Cheneys. Dick wore a dark suit with dark mauve tie. Lynn wore a Norwegian Blue suit accompanied, unfortunately, by MATCHING EYE SHADOW. Dick, as always, lurched along like the Hunchback of Notre Dame and looked as if he begrudged every breath he took. <...>
Shortly thereafter, one of the boy choristers lost his muffins in a most ungainly way (apparently, he had eaten lots of cherry Danish). Bless his heart, he had no sooner retched than he was right back up, ready to sing. But THAT SOUND, and the SMELL, it's a wonder the lot of us didn't have one of those chain-reaction vomit-offs you're always hearing about.
So then we sang "My Country 'Tis of Thee" (overlooking a pile of fresh vomit).
The only other dignitaries I was able to pick out were Ruth Bader Ginsberg, who I see EVERYWHERE, and John Ashcroft, who practically fell over himself trying to shake Billy Graham's hand. <...>
"We live under the Confederacy. We're a podunk bunch of swaggering pious hicks."
--Bruce Sterling