Condi, En Route to Middle East, Makes Stop in Brooklyn

President Bush in his radio address on Saturday said he had directed Secretary of State Rice to travel to the Middle East in the coming days to discuss the best ways to resolve the crisis in the Middle East.

Bush promised that "Secretary Rice will make it clear that resolving the crisis demands confronting the terrorist group that launched the attacks and the nations that support it."

In an interesting parallel, I, Paul M. Sark, had a dream last night in which I directed Condi Rice to travel to my neighborhood to resolve the crisis with my sister-in-law, Ginger, who continues to launch attacks upon me.

In my dream, Condi looked tough but fair, powerful but feminine. As I told her about the attacks upon me, her eyes grew hard and tight, reminding me of the steely resolve of Vice President Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld. I knew then I was in good hands.

"A ceasefire would be a false promise if it simply returns us to the status quo," Secretary Rice snarled, her bewitching incisors flashing in the candlelight.

"Such a step would allow terrorists like Ginger to launch attacks at the time and terms of their choosing and to threaten innocent people and throughout the region of Brooklyn."

"You are so right, Condi," I shouted, jumping up out of the chair. She leaped across the living room, jumped into my arms and then gave me a fierce bear hug, nearly crushing the breath out of me.

I woke up with a powerful impression that Condi had actually been with me in my living room. Climbing out of bed, knowing that it was ridiculous, I walked down the hall to check it out.

As I got closer, I picked up the scent of an amazing perfume and recognized it from my dream as Condi's. Although I've never smelled ambergris, I immediately registered it as such. Could it be that the dream was so powerful that it left behind the smell of Condi, I wondered. Or am I imagining it all?

Either way it was fitting that the figment of Condi should leave behind the scent of this rare substance, secreted in the intestines of the sperm whale, prized for centuries as the key ingredient in the finest perfumes. For she too is a rare specimen, a key ingredient in that rare assemblage of men and women who comprise the Bush administration.

My wife called out to me from the bedroom, asking me what I was doing up, telling me it was the middle of the night.

I took a final whiff of Condi and walked slowly back to to the bedroom, my heart bouyant with the knowledge that Condi and her colleagues remain firmly in control of our embattled but still more than seaworthy ship of state.

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