Dear George,

Since the advent of Condoleeza Rice, the president's national security advisor, I have found it difficult to consume those tiny kernels - white or brown - which bear her surname. In this icy woman I detect someone who - in tandem with the band of neocons, military suits and evangelicals, all yearning not necessarily to breathe free - thirsts to wage war against the administration's favorite enemy: Evil.

This being the case, a recent Associated Press article in The Washington Post further chilled my blood. Rice is quoted as follows: "Iran will either be isolated, or it will submit to the will of the international community." Along with this, she refused to say whether the U.S. would act alone on this mission were we NOT to win international support.

Hasn't the Bush administration already shown a wanton disregard for said international community? With unfinished business in Afghanistan and Iraq, must it not be a dilemma for the White House and its buddies to decide whom to next wreak vengeance upon, in the name of democracy? Will it be Iran or Korea, I wonder? Probably the former, since the latter poses the most danger.

Do you not wonder, George, as I do, where sufficient human fodder will be found to offer up on the altar of defending us against our next target? With the country's national guard depleted, the rate of enlistment and re-enlistment in the military at an all time low and the ever-rising death toll in our current adventures, where, oh where, will bodies still breathing be found?

No draft; that would be to put those who face a hard death far from home in common cause with those who have nice, comfy houses, a degree or two, and parents who - as W. might say - are not shiftless and unwilling to work in an economy blossoming with new jobs created every hour, on the hour.

Speaking of blossoming, we all know that Laura Bush is the very flower of womanhood, not only standing by her man, but propping him up by issuing inanities about stem cell research - like a true, dutiful Stepford spouse. I can't help wondering, can you George, how she would feel were her, um, spirited twins, Jenna and Barbara, summoned to report for duty in some hot climate not affiliated with a recreational beach.

Sigh. All this musing brought about by an article quoting Condi Rice who - it must be noted - also plays a mean piano. I'm a huge music fan, but when I think of Condi caressing the keys, sonatas by, say, Chopin or Schumann do not spring to mind. Rather, I hear marching songs. Military riffs. Or, most recently, dirges and the heartbreaking notes of "Taps."

Barbara Rich, August 16, 2004