What possible combination of words could be more terrifying than: “John Bolton, National Security Adviser”?
Dennis Rodman, Uber Driver?
Robyn Hitchcock, New Album?
My ball sack, Tank full of rabid piranha?
If Thomas Friedman’s upper lip popularized the phrase “Mustache of Understanding,” then get ready for John Bolton and the “Mustache of the Apocalypse.”
Spark Notes: John Bolton was George W. Bush’s Ambassador to the UN (recess appointment, natch) and one of the loudest voices claiming that Iraq had WMDs. That analysis was, to put it mildly, flawed.
To say Bolton is “hawkish” also seems like criminal understatement. More like Bolton saw a flock of hawks, questioned their commitment to his vision for total war and had the flock poisoned, stuffed and mounted outside his office as a warning to the other birds.
Bolton may strongly resemble a giant albino schnauzer, but when he looks in the mirror he sees the smoldering gaze of Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson staring back at him, getting ready to flex off the body cast and go to town on baddies around the world.