So, I was watching Bush speak at the United Nations, shrugging and sighing. Here was my thought process, what would be popping up in thought balloon form above my head if a comic strip manifested itself right there and then.

“The devil is right at home. The devil, the devil himself, is right in the house.

And the devil is here today. Today the devil came here. Right here. Why, it probably will still smell of sulfur tomorrow!”

Now, if only someone could break through the logjam of diplomatic couching and say such words before the United Nations Assembly.

Actually, with all due — or perhaps little due– respect to Hugo Chavez, Bush is not the Devil. The Devil is a mythological creature, its import largely psychological and sociological and sometimes metaphorically to those who have “Reached the Age of Reason”. Literal transformations are at a loss for me.

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