As suicide bombers bomb through pacified Baghdad where all is sweetness and light thanks to the surge and the gallant leadership of General Betrayus,

SUVs are our Lebensraum.
Shopping is our Lebensraum.
Exposed midriffs are our Lebensraum.
This is what we are fighting for,
Not our green and emerald isle,
We are fighting for the marzipan glow of entitlement.
The right to consume
Pollute
And fart on the ecosystem with the loud rrrrip of good ol’ American flatulence.
The right to be over-fed
Over-beered
Over-sexed and
Over everyone.
Because even Conneticutters have Texas accents and ride their oil-powered stallions over all the dark and swarthy mustachioed people who haven’t Yaled and Exetered and country clubbed their way from third to home without getting their uniforms dirty.
The world is our Lebensraum.
We’ll suck what we can.
Eat what we can.
Medicate what we can
And nuke what we can’t.
Because the world is our Lebensraum.