With their attempt to disenfranchise tens of thousands of black and Jewish voters temporarily sidetracked by the Florida Supreme Court this week, the bristling Bush clan began pumping the sludge in an effort to utterly destroy the ability of Al Gore to govern should he win the U.S. presidency.

Like many other notable American families — the Gambino Family, the Corleone Family, the Manson Family, etc. — the Bushes stop at nothing to defend what is theirs, i.e., whatever it is they happen to want. In their furious tantrum at not simply being rewarded the presidency outright just because of a few decrepit Hebrews and some cantankerous darkies, they have not blanched at the great uncrossable line of American politics: a military coup.

This week they trotted out one of the family retainers: "Stormin’" Norman Schwarzkopf, the "victorious" field general of the Gulf War, who triumphantly mowed down surrendering Iraqi conscripts while mysteriously allowing Saddam Hussein’s crack Revolutionary Guard to escape untouched. Norman, a conspicuous platform presence during the campaign, was back in action as the overseas absentee ballots came in.

Outraged that Democratic observers challenged the veracity of a few military absentee ballots (not all of them Bush ballots), Norman essentially called on the troops to rise up against Gore. Stormy said military personnel were being "denied the right to vote for the president of the United States who will be their commander in chief," while "other ballots have been counted twice and are now being counted a third time." (Except, of course, that the disputed votes have not actually been counted at all; that’s why they are disputed.)

The general’s insurrectionary remarks were echoed by Bush point man Marc Racicot, who is ostensibly the governor of Nebraska but now seems to spend his days haranguing crowds in Florida. Racicot said that Gore has "gone to war against the men and women who serve in our armed forces."

It was all part of a pattern. A gaggle of top Republicans then began singing in chorus about a "stolen election," "manufacturing votes" and the "illegitimacy" of a Gore administration. But while the public whining went on, behind the scenes the Clan was laying the groundwork for more serious shenanigans.

Even as we speak, the Republican-controlled Florida state legislature is drawing up plans to throw out the Gore electors, if he wins the recount, and send a whole new slate of Bush babies. And if that doesn’t work, the true power in the Republican Party — hard-right hatchet man Tom DeLay, congressman from Texas — has already prepped the Republican-controlled House of Representatives to refuse any Gore electors from Florida and choose a Bush slate instead.

So the fix is in, despite Gore’s 50 million votes and 300,000-vote lead in the national count (a lead which The New York Times continues to call "tiny," although it is three times the victory margin of John Kennedy). True, there’s lots of court action and heaps of mud yet to come, but on Inauguration Day, look to see the smirking visage of the second-place, unelected, engineered, mud-caked, military-backed George W. Bush, staring out vacantly at the world as the new president of the United States.

Brand New Day

When a nascent religious faith becomes the dominant force in a civilization, it displays the scope and power of its dominion through the building of magnificent edifices — grand mosques, towering cathedrals and vast glittering temples. These sacred structures house the wonderworking symbols of the triumphant creed, and serve as vehicles for the believers’ communal experience of divine transcendence.

And so it is today, in the lands of the civilized, globalized West, where powerful prelates are busily erecting huge cathedrals to convey the glorious communion offered by the divinities of the New Millennium:

Corporations.

Yes, "corporate cathedrals" are all the rage, reports the Financial Times, as major companies rush to create "an environment around their brand:" theme parks, restaurants, clubs and recreational complexes that sell not the product but the "brand experience."

The carmaker Renault and the boozepumper Guinness have recently launched their own massive marketing structures, joining such exalted companies as the $30 million Coca-Cola World, the $15 million Cadbury World Fantasy Factory and the 10-hectare, $400 million Autostadt fun park of Volkswagen.

Renault’s Atelier restaurant, bar and exhibition hall opened on the Champs-Elysees last week. They’re not selling cars there, you understand; they are "repositioning the brand." The building "is about feeling Renault," says Atelier director Thierry Tuteleers. "It’s the perfume of the new brand values." And what exactly are you supposed to smell when you walk in? Why, Renault’s new "corporate definition" as "caring, daring and innovative," of course.

Guinness, meanwhile, will open its "Storehouse" in Dublin this December, offering a "tribal hub for young people," including a club and glass-walled bar. Marketing whiz Ralph Ardill says Guinness and the other corporate deities are now looking for "emotional dialogue" with consumers, employing "metaphors for the company philosophy" without using something so vulgar as the actual product.

Guinness, for example, has based its "global home" around the values of "power, goodness and communion." (And you thought Guinness was just something to make you belch, stumble and talk funny. O ye of little faith!) This will be conveyed with a giant indoor waterfall and the subtle play of ruby lights on the building’s glass exterior at night.

Of course, while the corporations are serving up all this power, goodness and daring caring, they will also be carrying out "quantitative and qualitative" market research on the worshippers who bow at their altars, marketers said: how many ruby-lit gambolers in the Guinness waterfall actually go out and buy the stuff, for example. If those numbers fall too low, the "emotional dialogue" and "communion of goodness" will be recalibrated accordingly. (Mauve lights, perhaps, or a water slide instead. Whatever.)

Reports that the unelected president-elect plans to convert the White House into a "brand experience" called "Bushopolis" — "built around the fragrant values of feeling, healing and obfuscation" — could not be confirmed.