Tough-talking George W. Bush, who spent some of his National Guard tour on the harrowing front lines of Alabama’s Battle of Blount, wears on you after a while. At least, that’s the only explanation you can think of for the fascination of the W Deck of playing cards that meticulously morphs mugs of Junior onto an astonishing array of photos of gowns, swimwear, and other garb from decades past.
He’s a veritable Suzanne Lenglen on the six of clubs and a cheesy ’50s covergirl on the jack of hearts. The joker is wild: Imagine J. Fred Muggs (with Bush’s face), dressed in a darling little jumpsuit.
As the presidential campaign heads into its final six weeks, artistic minds are apparently entering Dada-land, where the operative words are “deliberate irrationality, cynicism, and anarchy.” Does that mean another invasion of those darn anarchists?
This crazy and crucial (but still unnamable) moment in American history deserves even more questions:
Where now? Who now? When now? Unquestioning. I, say I. Unbelieving. Questions, hypotheses, call them that. Keep going, going on, call that going, call that on.
This article from the Village Voice Archive was posted on September 17, 2004