As part one of President Bush’s long-awaited second term mid-season staff purge-athon, Scott McClellan abandoned his plum position as White House press secretary. The rumor is he wants to follow in the footsteps of his predecessor Ari Fleischer and spend more personal time lying to his family. This follows Chief of Staff Andrew Card’s resignation and signals a desperate attempt by the Bush Administration to give the perception of a change of direction that could most accurately be presently described as subbasement-directed.

Does the term “rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic” have any meaning here? Even Karl Rove has seen his role diminished. I imagine he needs more personal time to file the scuff marks off of his cloven hooves. That’s right. Bush’s brain has been laid off. And yes, that is redundant.

In an attempt to reverse poll numbers which are falling faster than an Acme Company cartoon anvil catapulted off the roof of the Empire State Building with a confused coyote clinging to it, the president is looking to a changing of the guard as his approval rating equivalent of an animated trampoline.

Reportedly, nobody’s position is safe, which means even the twins are worried about being supplanted by a couple of good Mormon girls. And although Dick Cheney’s head is reputedly on the chopping block, the conventional wisdom inside the Beltway is whoever actually acts as pink slip messenger to the Vice President better be wearing a full-body containment suit that is impervious to both birdshot and political fallout of the nuclear variety.

Unfortunately, the person the President refuses to replace is the one whose head everyone keeps calling for: Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld. If this were “White House Survivor,” Jeff Probst would be snuffing out Rummy’s torch while fellow castaways snickered on wooden benches huddling together for warmth. The dapper and verbally flatulent secretary, however, remains a man who doesn’t know the meaning of the word “quit.” As it turns out, he seems unfamiliar with a few other words as well: like “strategy,” “consensus” and “diplomatic.”

The recent call by between six and eight hundred generals for his dumpstering has met with stubborn resistance from his boss. When asked, the president said, yes, he hears the voices for Rumsfeld to be returned horizontally to the private sector, but it would be HE who decided, because HE is the chief decider. He’s not a divider or a uniter, he’s a decider. Who hears the voices.

Hmmmmm.

Speaking of Rumsfeld’s prize quagmire, Iraq, President Bush said “failure is not an option.” So, apparently, it’s a factory installed standard equipment feature.

Thank the maker. Not sure the tentative low-level alterations Dubyah instituted are quite the infusion of new blood his election-bound Republican brethren were calling for. Not even sure these guys qualify as old blood. More like sickle cell anemia blood from badger roadkill.

Apparently, for the GOP, a changing of the guard is similar to a game of political Volleyball. Every two years, someone yells “Rotate!” and players switch positions. I’ll be honest, I can’t wait for the photo-op of this entire corrupt cursed imperial ruling class standing in line at the unemployment office or, better yet, chained together while wearing orange jumpsuits.

After all, doesn’t real regime change start at home?