Say it, Bush: "my bad".

• Author: Durst, Will
• Position: Off the Map

All I want the President to say is, "Oops, my bad." Is that too much to ask? I know the chances of prying an apology from a politician are about the same as extracting infected molars flora a wolverine with a pair of chopsticks, but still I have this burning desire to hear him say it out loud.

Now that it's clear no weapons of mass destruction will be found, the new party line is that Saddam could have had weapons of mass destruction. Which is a mite different than being able to "launch a biological of chemical attack in as little as forty-five minutes." Of course, you got to remember this "could have" information comes from the very same people who a year ago relished branding anybody with the temerity to disagree with their assessment as being nothing but substandard tools of the Dark Prince himself--and no, I'm not talking about Dick Cheney.

Back then, Saddam possessed voluminous amounts of weapons of mass destruction and was aiming them at us with his shaky crazy finger hovering over the button. Pretty soon we'll find out our evidence comes from a waitress who found the words "weapons," "mass," and "destruction" doodled on the back of a Hooters napkin left by a guy who said he'd been to Baghdad.

You can almost smell the desperation when the Administration trumpets the fact that Bill Clinton also thought Hussein had weapons of mass destruction. Bush citing Clinton as a credible source. There you go. Like Pat Robertson buying a fringed leather skirt because it looked good on Christina Aguilera. Bush has even been forced to call for an investigation into his own intelligence, and you know what's going to happen: They're not going to find anything.

Bush had "no doubt" his intelligence was correct. Well, there's your problem right there. He never has any doubt. Grew up without doubt. He had no doubt his tax cuts for the wealthy were going to stimulate the economy. No doubt the deficit was going to magically morph into a surplus. No doubt we can take policemen off the streets and use the money to send a man to Mars. If you ask me, the man needs to cultivate a little doubt.

Unless he's the man going to Mars...