Whever you read something written by a Neocon/Rethuglican, remember, they may brag about how great they are, but they ain't in Iraq.

That dawg won't hunt.

Keith renods. Dreamin' as usual.

Or over hills with peaky tops engrail'd, / And many a tract of palm and rice, / The throne of Indian Cama slowly sail'd / A summer fann'd with spice.