Great intellectuals often develop intractable disputes with their peers, even as the fate of the world teeters on the head of a needle through which a madman pulls the thread of destiny. I am no exception, and it was inevitable that this day would arrive. Like Orwell abandoning the Communists, I must now resign my membership from the board of the Project For A New American Century.

In 1997, when I founded PNAC along with Dick Cheney, Donald Rumsfeld, Paul Wolfowitz, Lewis Libby, William Kristol, and others, we had so many wonderful dreams. As we met in my secret mountain castle over appetizers prepared by Roger's catering staff, we discussed the exciting possibility that soon the United States Of America would achieve its historical destiny of total dominion over the dark peoples of the earth. We saw a future of endless war, massive budget deficits that would deprive poor old people of health care in favor of weapons research, and, finally, the return to earth of the Star Creator in a magical craft that we built for him after the mysterious explosion of the Space Shuttle. Then we sang our theme song:

Would you be free from the burden of sin?

There's power in the blood, power in the blood;

Would you over evil a victory win?

There's wonderful power in the blood.

Hit me wit' your rhythm stick!

There is power, power, wonder working power

In the blood of the Lamb;

There is power, power, wonder working power

In the precious blood of the Lamb.

Hit me, hit me, hit me!

It was a dream to be devoutly wished. We worked for decades, or at least years, to create the perfect empire. And now it appears to be in our grasp. Still, for me, it's not going fast enough.

Many aspects of our plan, such as federal funding for church building, mandatory abstinence education, and the gradual disbarring of black lawyers, appear to be underway. Yet, President Bush, the man we selected to be our public face, has proven a slippery weasel to hold onto in the pit. When we installed him in the White House, we told him not to give AIDS drugs to Africa, because we had big plans for all that land. But he didn't listen. Compassion gets in the way, George, we said.

I'm not the only one growing impatient. Rumsfeld called me the other day, very secretly, and said, "Dammit, we were supposed to be drinking tea in Baghdad by now!"

"Would you like me to order the assassination of Kofi Annan?" I asked. "Hypothetically, on my blog, of course."

"No!" he said. "We need to take out Janeane Garofalo first! She's a fucking menace!"

This cannot be a slow burn, my Beagles. The world trembles in fear at our might, but the French are arming. If they get the Belgians on their side, we may have a protracted European front on their hands. I cannot sit by idly, twiddling as part of a secret organization of powerful men bent on world domination. We must take action now. That's why I'm forming PNAC II: The Wrath Of God, an even more secret organization whose board is even more influential as the original PNAC. The membership is confidential, but I do have one wild-card spot available.

This week's contest: Send me short proposals for op-ed pieces that we can slip into influential dailies, thereby making our cause irresistible to the elites, followed by the masses. We can't be blatant, not yet. Be subtle and clever in your proposals. Keep your Total Information Awareness eye on our ultimate goal. The U.S. imperium, led by the Star Creator on his golden throne, is coming. We're almost there.

Meanwhile, read this comprehensive article about our recent Bookhouse Rock celebration in Austin. Go here to look at party photos. And check out the most comprehensive letters page on the web.

Tomorrow, barring the start of war, which seems unlikely since the UN, against all reason, is still open for business, I begin a three-day narrative about my recent trip to the "Old Europe." Until then, may the Star Creator bless our holy mission.

Neal

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