[an error occurred while processing this directive] [an error occurred while processing this directive]
President: An open letter
Observations from the Edge
Robert T. Nanninga
November 1, 2006
Hey George, it's me Bob. Sorry, it's been such a long time since last I've written. I figured you were busy with nation building in Afghanistan and Iraq and didn't need to be bothered with my concerns. But I was inspired, so I wrote.
Dude. A friend sent me a link to YouTube to check out video of Pink singing "Dear Mr. President" live in NYC. Wearing a simple red dress, and hair classic Hollywood, Pink does you proud by immortalizing you with respect few feel you deserve.
Sitting on a stool with two backup singers and a guy with an acoustic guitar, the raw beauty of Pink's provocative performance will be a must see at the George W. Bush Presidential museum. "Dr. Mr. President" is powerful stuff. So powerful I viewed the live performance numerous times, and then bought the album from the local independent music store.
To catch you up, YouTube is a site on the Internet. Pink is an award winning singer/songwriter. Dear Mr. President is a song on her latest album, I'm Not Dead. NYC is New York City, I'm sure you remember where that is. You are still the president, and libraries are where they keep the books. Bummer huh?
You should see the video.
Pink has put words to music in such away as to speak for us all. In doing so she redefined herself as political poet and muse.
Following in Pink's footsteps, I too would like to take a walk with you and ask questions, that you would then answer honestly. Questions like "Do you even see the traffic on the street." and "How can you dream when air is unfit to breathe?" How do you deal with the voices in your head? Are they loud?
How can you say no child left behind when mothers and fathers are dying in Iraq? How can you sleep, when mothers have no chance to say goodbye? How do walk with your head held high, when the entire world knows you lied? Do you still dream?
George, I ask these questions not to make you doubt yourself, or your commitment to fighting the terrors you experience on a daily basis. I ask because journalistic curiosity compels me to. Do you ever wake up screaming? Does Laura? Have you ever hugged a tree? Is there anything you really believe?
Dear Mr. President. As a mirror of our times, do you see anything other than your own reflection? Do you care global ecosystems are on the verge on collapse? Do you know what a ecosystem is. Do you care? Does it matter that the world is heating up while you fiddle with the constitution and erode the civil rights of all Americans under the guise of executive privilege? Have you no shame?
Enough questions, right? I know you're busy and you have a war to win, so this letter will have to do. But if you find yourself in Leucadia, please Mr. President, come take a walk with me. It should be an enlightening encounter for a least one of us.
Yours in print,
P.S...You should really see the video.