I am America (and so can you!) (136 page)

I A M A M E R I C A ( A N D S O C A N Y O U ! )

Then he extended the hand that signed off on “Shock and Awe.” It was as soft as a mitten made from angel food cake. His eyes were steely, and he had the faraway look of a man who was replaying a video game in his mind. With the President by my side, I was now ready to give the Washington Press Corps a pranging they would not soon forget. I was inspired, I was focused, and I had to pee like a racehorse at an iced tea convention. I approached a Secret Service agent and asked where the Little Pundits’ room was. He led me down a hallway to a door emblazoned with the Great Seal and the words “POTUS

Only.” I was going to use the bathroom reserved for our Commander in Chief. My heart swelled with pride as I lifted the seat and imagined Eisenhower, Nixon, and Reagan doing the same—really made it hard to get a flow started. But I’m proud to say I left my mark in that true Hall of Presidents. My only regret was that I had a light lunch.

Sitting on the dais overlooking Washington’s elite, I felt like the Best Man at a wedding between the Statue of Liberty and Mount Rushmore. Everywhere I looked there were members of Congress, Justices of the Supreme Court, and Distinguished Black Actors. My months of training came in handy when the meal turned out to be both surf
and
turf. I entered what climbers call the Death Zone. With a bellyful of protein, I watched President Bush’s presentation, which co-starred a President Bush impersonator. By this point, I was so high on endorphins that I had double vision, so to me, there were four President Bushes up there. Ecstasy!

Then it was my turn. My heart raced as I strode to the podium and brought it hot and hard:

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T H E W H I T E H O U S E C O R R E S P O N D E N T S ’ D I N N E R

Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.

Before I begin, I’ve been asked to make

an announcement. Whoever parked

14 black bulletproof SUVs out front,

could you please move them? They are

blocking in 14 other black bulletproof

SUVs and they need to get out.

Wow. Wow, what an honor. The White House Correspondents’ Dinner. To actually sit here, at the same table with my hero, George W. Bush, to be this close to the man. I feel like I’m dreaming. Somebody pinch me. You know what?
Sometimes now
when I dream, I’m

I’m a pretty sound sleeper—that may not be enough. Somebody shoot me in
back up there!

the face. Is he really not here tonight? Damnit. The one guy who could have helped.

By the way, before I get started, if anybody needs anything else at their tables, just speak slowly and clearly into your table numbers. Somebody from the NSA will be right over with a cocktail. Mark Smith, ladies and gentlemen of the press corps, Madame First Lady, Mr. President, my name is Stephen Colbert and tonight it’s my privilege to celebrate this President. We’re not so different, he and I. We get it. We’re not brainiacs on the nerd patrol. We’re not members of the Factinista. We go straight from the gut, right sir? That’s where the truth lies, right down here in the gut. Do you know you have more nerve endings in your gut than you have in your head? You can look it up. I know some of
Small intestine: 26

feet long. Brain: 10

you are going to say “I did look it up, and that’s not true.” That’s because you
inches, tops. Sorry,
brain fans!

looked it up in a book.

Next time, look it up in your gut. I did.

My gut tells me that’s how our nervous

system works. Every night on my show,

The Colbert Report
, I speak straight

from the gut, OK? I give people the

truth, unfiltered by rational argument.

I call it the “No Fact Zone.” Fox News, I

hold a copyright on that term.2

2
Reminder: Pay myself licensing fee for reprinting it here.
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I A M A M E R I C A ( A N D S O C A N Y O U ! )

I’m a simple man with a simple mind. I hold a simple set of beliefs that I live by. Number one, I believe in America. I believe it exists. My gut tells me I live there. I feel that it extends from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and I strongly
51, if you count both

believe it has 50 states. And I cannot wait to see how the
Washington Post
Dakotas.

spins that one tomorrow. I believe in democracy. I believe democracy is our greatest export. At least until China figures out a way to stamp it out of plastic for three cents a unit.

In fact, Ambassador Zhou Wenzhong, welcome. Your great country makes our Happy Meals possible. I said it’s a celebration. I believe the government that governs best is the government that governs least. And by these standards, we have set up a
fabulous
government in Iraq.

I believe in pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps. I believe it is possible—

I also saw an

I saw this guy do it once in Cirque du Soleil. It was magical. And though I
after-hours show

in Vegas called

am a committed Christian, I believe that everyone has the right to their own The Trickle-Down.

Truly uplifting.

religion, be you Hindu, Jewish or Muslim. I believe there are infinite paths to accepting Jesus Christ as your personal savior.

Ladies and gentlemen, I believe it’s yogurt. But I refuse to believe it’s not butter.
If he was dairy, he’d

Most of all, I believe in this President.

be
American
cheese.

26%, as of this

Now I know there are some polls out there saying this man has a 32% approval
printing.

rating. But guys like us, we don’t pay attention to the polls.3 We know that polls are just a collection of statistics that reflect what people are thinking in

“reality.” And reality has a well-known liberal bias.

So, Mr. President, please, pay no attention to the people who say the glass is half full. 32% means the glass—it’s

Note to editor: Be

important to set up your jokes prop
sure to remove my

flubbed line.

erly, sir. Sir, pay no attention to the

people who say the glass is half empty,

because 32% means it’s 2/3 empty.

There’s still some liquid in that glass is

my point, but I wouldn’t drink it. The

last third is usually backwash.

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3
Percent of President Bush that cares about polls: 3%. (Margin of error: ±3%)
T H E W H I T E H O U S E C O R R E S P O N D E N T S ’ D I N N E R

Okay, look, folks, my point is that I don’t believe this is a low point in this presidency. I believe it is just a lull before a comeback. I mean, it’s like the movie
Rocky.
All right. The President in this case is Rocky Balboa and Apollo
Maybe he’s more like
Stallone’s Demolition

Creed is—everything else in the world. It’s the tenth round. He’s bloodied. His
Man—someone from
the past who blows

corner man is Mick, who in this case I guess would be the Vice President, and
things up.
Bush is yelling, “Cut me, Dick, cut me!,” and every time he falls everyone says,

“Stay down! Stay down!” Does he stay down? No. Like Rocky, he gets back up, and in the end he—actually, he loses in the first movie.

Spoiler alert!

OK. Doesn’t matter. The point is it is the heartwarming story of a man who was repeatedly punched in the face. So don’t pay attention to the approval ratings that say 68% of Americans disapprove of the job this man is doing. I ask you this, does that not also logically mean that 68% approve of the job he’s not doing? Think about it. I haven’t.

I stand by this man. I stand by this man because he stands for things. Not only for things, he stands on things. Things like aircraft carriers and rubble and recently flooded city squares. And that sends a strong message: that no matter what happens to America, she will always rebound—with the most powerfully staged photo ops in the world.

The snapshots heard

’round the world.

Now there may be an energy crisis. This President has a very forward-thinking energy policy. Why do you think he’s down on the ranch cutting that brush all the time? He’s trying to create an alternative energy source. By 2008 we will have a mesquite-powered car!

And I just like the guy. He’s a good Joe. Obviously loves his wife, calls her his better half. And polls show America agrees. She’s a true lady and a wonderful woman. But I just have one beef, ma’am. I’m sorry, but this reading initiative. I’m sorry—I’ve never been a fan of books. I don’t trust them. They’re all fact, no heart. I mean, they’re elitist, telling us what is or isn’t true, or what did or didn’t happen. Who’s Britannica to tell me the Panama Canal was built in 1914?

If I want to say it was built in 1941, that’s my right as an American!4 I’m with the President—let history decide what did or did not happen.

4
“The Panama Canal was built in 1941.” Now it’s in a book, so it
must
be a fact. Eat it, Britannica!

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