The Flap over Jenna's Bush

I can't believe I just typed that.

The Internets are abuzz today with controversy. When God reached down his mighty hand from Tennessee and handed us this amazing technology, I'm not sure He had in mind exactly what the Internets have become: A repository for embarassing pictures of people both public and private. Pubic and privates, if possible.

With the infinite number of digital cameras pointed day and night at Chimpy McFlightsuit's twin "hawt dawghters", it was inevitable somebody somewhere would finally reach the web version of the Lost City of Gold: an upskirt photo of Jenna Bush.

Well, the inevitable has occurred. Bloggers the world over have posted this picture. The photo is copyrighted, and I'm led to understand that its title is "Jenna's Bush".

Now modesty has prevented me from viewing said photo, but I have been following the attendant uproar. This web uproar is once again personified best by one Tucker Maxx, irascible purveyor of adolescent internet fablieaux. Shortly after receiving a terse email from the Whitehouse, he vanished. Banjo College operatives report that he and all other Jenna's Bush copyright infringers are duct-taped to white chairs in an undisclosed location somewhere in Cuba.

This is good news for good ole BCHC. Since the number of active bloggers has been reduced dramatically, the competition for blog-hungry eyes had been proportionally reduced. Why, old BCHC might gain tens of new users.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Where were we? Oh yes, peering luridly up Jenna's skirt.

I suppose I should be bleating about the First Ammendment. But no. I'm more concerned with the idea that the White House itself seems to own the copyright to an upskirt photo of the President's daughter.

I've long been a proponent of the idea that there is no intellectual property, only intellect. But in the case of both Mr. Max and Mr. Bush, intellect is too strong a term.

So let the battle of half-wits commence. Who will win ownership of Jenna's crotch-shot? My money's on the Secret Service, but you never know.

It ain't over until the fat lady sings.