What am I dared to do, exactly?
Join an obvious nutcase ("In the current issue of my premium, online, intelligence newsletter, G2 Bulletin, author Paul Williams recounts in extravagant detail how al-Qaida operatives have already used the open Mexican border not only to sneak operatives into the country but to smuggle in nuclear weapons with the help of the MS-13 (Mara Salvatrucha) street gang." —ayup) in demanding Bush's impeachment because he hasn't sufficiently stroked the policy fetishes of Pat Buchanan and the nativist crowd?
Regarding impeachment, the institutional tension that used to exist between 1600 Pennsylvania and Capitol Hill—the sort of thing that allowed the GOP party elders to confront Nixon and tell him it was time to pack—is all but gone now. CBS could air a videotape of Dubya sodomizing and strangling whatserface, the missing white teenybopper in Aruba, and the House Judiciary Committee wouldn't emit a peep.
Anyway, as the grandson of a man who waded across the Rio Grande 89 years ago to start his residence in El Norte, it would ill behoove me to bang the immigration drum.
cordially,
