With President Bush’s re-election, it’s about time to form a new cabinet. Let me be the first to nominate to the Pentagon Dr. Emmett Brown and Marty McFly of the 1985 classic film “Back to the Future.” It sounds crazy, I know — but with technology we can do anything these days. Just imagine this duo, it’s almost too perfect …

Defense Secretary Doc Brown and Deputy Secretary of Defense Marty McFly are hanging out at Doc’s garage next to the Burger King. “Whoa, this is heavy!” Marty says, looking at a piece of paper he picked up while skateboarding through the drive-through. “It says here that Iraq tried to purchase 1.21 gigawatts of electricity from an African nation!”

“1.21 gigawatts! Great Scott!” screams the doctor. “This proves my theory — Saddam Hussein will end all life on Earth as we know it! Quick! Let me see that map of the country!”

“The south is gone,” Marty agonizes.

“Erased from existence … Doc whispers.

Marty stands up tall and coldly asserts, “We must invade.”

A half an hour later, the crazy doctor and his apprentice are rolling through a Baghdad neighborhood in their heavily armored DeLorean Fighting Vehicle. The two look at each other and silently understand that they will need a propaganda master to convince the Iraqi people of their honest intentions.

“Know anyone?” Doc asks his apprentice.

“Yeah, my totally awesome father. He’s kind of like The Wolf in ‘Pulp Fiction.'”

“Ah yes, great flick — I saw it earlier this semester at midnight movies. He’ll be perfect.”

“It’s already done. We have already been greeted as liberators,” Marty boasts.

Meanwhile and just a few miles away, George McFly, Marty’s smooth-talking father, is macking on an Iraqi woman in a cafe.

“Hi … I’m George, George McFly. I’m your hegemony … I mean … your destiny.”

“Oh,” she says, reaching for her handgun.

Back on the other side of town, Doc and Marty roll up to a large group of people. “What the hell is this!” complains the young apprentice.

“It looks like a wedding party,” Doc sighs and says, “They should know better than this.” Without hesitation, he pops the hatch and tosses a hand grenade into the wedding party. “Ha ha! That’ll teach ’em!”

An entire day passes without conversation. Finally, Doc looks over at Marty and asks “So … you want to torture some prisoners?”

“No.”

“You want to spend some reconstruction money?”

“No. I want to find those weapons of mass destruction. Where the hell are they?”

Doc jumps out of his seat in excitement. “No, but you see, the question is not where the hell are they, but when the hell are they! Ya see, Saddam destroyed his WMD stockpile way back in 1991!”

Marty stares at his mentor in disbelief.

“And anyway, it’s time to invade Iran,” Doc explains.

“But how are we going to sell that?” Marty protests.

“Marty, there’s something I’ve got to show you.” Doc hands Marty a wadded-up piece of paper with a strange schematic scribbled on it. “Last night I woke up to the vibration of incoming mortar fire from angry relatives of that wedding party I bombed. I jumped out of bed and hit my head on the wall, knocking myself unconscious. When I awoke I had a vision — a revelation — of what would make another war possible: the brain incapacitator!”

“This is heavy, Doc.” Marty flips down his stylish ’80s sunglasses and rips a Van Halen cord on his guitar.

Doc smiles. “When this invasion hits at 88 miles per hour, you’re gonna see some serious shit.”