Billmon: A Movable Feast

For the true connoisseur of cynicism -- and I'm talking about myself here -- the past few days have been about as good as it gets: the political equivalent of an all-you-can-eat buffet at a Mobil five star restaurant. Everywhere you look, you can see mounds of mouthwatering hypocrisy, steaming heaps of juicy lies, fat slices of self-serving spin, and, of course, a bottomless tureen of hot buttered bullshit, fresh from the White House lavatory.

All of it served up by a horde of obsequious GOP waiters eager to fill your plate with deep fried nonsense and pop open another bottle of ridiculous excuses (Chateau du Bush, '05) -- until even the most fastidious eater starts to feel like Mr. Creosote.