Nothing sadder than seeing a member of the walking dead grasping onto the last threads of his former power and glory and using his remaining strength and time on earth to betray the people he once called friends.
Watching NBC's Jamie Gangel
interview Dick Cheney about the release of his memoir, you could almost
feel sorry for him . . . . y'know, if he weren't pure evil and all. He
still has that Hannibal Lecter-like icy stare and sneer, but he looks
more hunted than hunter these days. In fact, it appears that the only
hunting Cheney is doing these days is for his portable battery charger.
"Big Time" titled his book "In My Time" and from the excerpts and interviews is seems this heartless (literally) little man is trying very hard to seem relevant and important before he draws his last breath. Does he still breathe?
Are his other organs actually functioning, other than his heart? I vaguely remember one time his foot was sloughing off in a desperate attempt to escape from his disintegrating body, but I digress . . .
Cheney promised that "heads will explode all over Washington" as a result of his book, probably just another in a series of violent, bloody fantasies, but in reality the book seems to contain little new information, facts, or insights. It's just a mundane laundry list of revisionist history from the twisted and tormented psyche of a very sick man, with a gnarled fist full of insults, jabs, and criticisms of other notable Bush-era political players tossed in for kicks and giggles. You could subtitle the book "Dick Hates Everyone."
It's not too shocking to discover that Dick is bitter, ego-maniacal, disdainful of all below him (and that's everybody) and determined to alert the world that he was Right. About. Everything. After all, this is the man who was tapped by the GOP nominating committee to locate the most suitable running mate for Raisin Brain and came up with . . . himself. Who better to pull the strings behind the scenes? Karl Rove may have been the Architect, but Dick was the undisputed puppet-master.
There seems to be precious new information in this tome, other than the fact that Cheney kept a signed resignation in a safe. Who knew we were so close? And where was David Blaine when we needed him? Cheney further revealed that he offered up his resignation to Chucklenutz three times, one for each heart attack, I guess. Each time it was offered Bush refused to accept it. But Dubya had a knack for ignoring the important documents, like "Bin Laden Determined to Strike within US," or "Levy System in New Orleans Likely to Fail During Hurricane Katrina," and now "Cheney Offers to Quit!" Maybe the language in these memos was too complex for his simple brain. He's more on a "My Pet Goat" level. Oh, and The Bible.
Back to Dick. Cheney's version of the decision to
preemptively strike Iraq (due to those magical mysterious WMDs) varies
sharply from Dim Son's recollection. The Decider claims it was his
decision to hit Iraq before they could hit us back. In his memoir
"Decision Points," Bush held a meeting with his senior staffers,
listened to everyone's opinions, then proudly proclaimed: "let's go." Harrumph. Very Presidential sounding, albeit incredibly stupid and
costly. According to Dick, Bush cleared the room, then turned privately
to Cheney and timidly asked: "Dick, what do you think we ought
to do?" Cheney stopped just short of saying the President was wearing
his favorite jammies and sucking a tangerine lolly at the time.
But Cheney's tender critique of Dubya as an indecisive puppet is the least interesting aspect of the book, if also the most believable. Unapologetic and stupendously arrogant, he asserts in writing -- and in the recent spate of interviews -- that he made no mistakes as Vice President and has no regrets. Not water-boarding, not bombing Iraq back to the stone age when there were no WMDs to be found (pssssttt . . . and he knew that, too . . .), not maintaining secret prisons, not for torture, not for illegal wiretapping,
In Cheneyworld, National Security Adviser Condoleeza
Rice is a naive weepy wimp. And, he states, he urged Bunnypants to fire
Secretary of State Colin Powell when Powell expressed doubts about
invading Iraq. Oh, and it was Cheney's influence that forced Colin
Powell's resignation in 2004. Former POW and torture-victim Sen. John
McCain receives a spanking for speaking out against extreme
interrogation practices Dick so loved. And, of course John would've
beaten Obama had he only listened to Dick's sage campaign advice.
Seems God created two perfect people -- Jesus Christ . . . and Dick Cheney.
The media feeding frenzy over this minor memoir will soon end and we can turn our attention to more important news items, like Beyonce's pregnancy and Michael Vick's nine-figure contract. Sorry, Dick, but as much as you wanted to see it no heads will explode over this little clump of self-serving crapola you and your daughter scratched out in spite and envy. The moral to your life story, Dick, is that you truly are not nearly as important as you think you are. Just far more deadly by orders of magnitude.
Better crawl back into that sacred box of dirt, plug in your organs, and wait. The sun is rising soon.