Andover Alumni for Truth

I went to Andover. Or Phillips Academy, as you call it when you’re there. And the entire time I was there I never—not once—saw George W. Bush.

“But Hop,” you say, “Bush was at Andover a good thirty years or so before you were.” To which I reply, “Where exactly are you getting these numbers?” Touché, my friend. Touché.

Since I did go to Andover, and I know that fact for certain, and am therefore what you might call an expert on Andoverness, I feel compelled now to inform the American people that I have serious doubts about what Bush says he did when he was there. It just doesn’t jive. It doesn’t ring true. Common sense itself calls his account into question—any reasonable person can see that—but when it comes to the knowledge and experience of an expert like myself, what he says just goes right out the window and into the spitoon.

Oh sure, you can point to other people who say “I was there too.” But who are these people? His so-called “friends” and “former fellow students” and “teachers”? I’ve never met them. Have you? Then how can you know you can trust them? Frankly, I can’t even think of a single name of one of these people off the top of my head. And if I even could, I can bet you it would be a name like “Chaps” or “Binky” or “Quahog” or “Roosevelt,” if they’re a girl, or “Buffy,” if they’re a guy. Yes, since they went to Andover too that means that not only are they weird, un-American, and kind of ambiguously gendered, they’re probably filthy rich, lazy sods who haven’t worked a day in their lives for that old meat-plantation-railroad-explosives money, and might even be some of those awful, self-loathing New England liberal types, you know the kind, oh, tax me, tax me. Gross, right? I reiterate: if they even exist.

This is why I find it my moral calling today to start the Andover Alumni for Truth.

Because if not me, who? If not now, when? If not on, where?

If Bush wasn’t actually a drunk cheerleader, as he says he was, but was actually an academically successful and morally upright football player as well as head of the model United Nations—which is the Andover I know, having been to Andover—then who will call his account into question? If he wasn’t actually just a snotnosed playboy, shooting craps and doing the hokey-pokey in the bird sanctuary, which is what he and his campaign and these so-called “classmates” all claim he was doing, but was actually a math prodigy and a concert pianist fluent in conversational Chinese—which is the Andover I know, having been to Andover—then who can ever know anything for sure?

And what if Bush in fact, like Jay Leno, went to Andover High?

And how can we ever know for sure that he didn’t?