Go Fuck Yourself, Mr. Cheney, Go Fuck Yourself!

"They can't beat us in a stand-up fight -- they never have -- but they're absolutely convinced they can break our will, [that] the American people don't have the stomach for the fight," --Dick Cheney on NBC's "Meet the Press", September 10, 2006 transcript

"Go fuck yourself, Mr. Cheney, go fuck yourself!" Dr. Ben Marble, to Mr. Dick Cheney, broadcast on national television September 8, 2005.

"Fuck yourself." --Dick Cheney, to Senator Patrick Leahy, June 2004

Mr. Cheney, Mr. Cheney, Mr. Cheney,

How kind of you to emerge from your fur-lined foxhole to meet the press on the occasion of the fifth anniversary of the day you finally, finally got your way. The day that gave you license to stroll headlong and unheeded into that great big oil field in heaven: Hallalujah, Halliburton on the march!

Hell’s a poppin’, darlin’, and so are the corks in the White House basement, just as they have today and yesterday and every day since someone (we’ll likely never know who exactly) delivered the smoldering ruins that put the world in your hands, left you drunk and dizzy with the thrill of it all, but at the same time sent you scurrying off to some undisclosed location, where you thought you could conceal your conceits, cook your receipts, and laugh, laugh, laugh....all the way to the bank. Ha! Ha! Ha! Halliburton!

So maybe you’re right, Mr. Cheney: those “Islamo-fascist” figments of your imagination you’ve been chasing like ticker-tape across America’s TV screens may be no match for you, but we’ve seen this “stab-in-the-back” routine before. We’ve seen the Reichstags-Fire schtick, the “biggest lies”-limbo, the “it’s all over but the counting”-two step and the Great Dictator-tango.

If this were a Hollywood blockbuster with Mel Brooks doing the casting, you might have a shot at upstaging Charlie Chaplin on the theater of world history.  Mr. Dick Cheney: He's got the whole world in his hands! The Great Imitator: Makes Hitler look like a wannabe, or a wouldabeen! Come one, come all, step right up and witness the way the amazing Mr. Dick Cheney brings the planet to a crashing halt in one swift slip of a stiffed upper lip!

Alas,  the stage is real, the theater of war is not make-believe, Baghdad is nowhere near Neverland (nor is New Orleans) and Tony Blair is not Peter Pan.

I  can’t tell you what my fellow Americans can stomach and what they can’t. I can only tell you what I cannot stomach, and that is this:

... the sight of that despicably diabolical, mendacious and malignant, sorry-assed and snarling, cock-sure and kittywampus half-baked hot-air balloon that passes for your face.

And I’ll tell you why, Mr. Cheney, because every time I see that snarling little mug of yours, whether the jaw is flapping or not, whether that boney little pointer finger is raised to play the blame game or to scold, or sticking out in space as a bitter reminder to us that you have never, ever lifted a finger for anyone or anything, not even for yourself and your billions--Naw, you’ve always let the other guys do your dirty work for you. Always, your job’s been in the counting house—and it didn’t matter whether  you were counting  corpses,  the coins in your coffer or  votes on their way to the shredder. Whatever it was, in the end, it was cooked. Well done, Mr. Cheney, well-done, one heckuvajob indeed!

But I can see right through you, Mr. Cheney, and whenever I see that sorry excuse for a snarl on your face, this is what I see:

This is what I see in place of your face, Mr. Cheney:

This:



This:



And this:

You have become invisible to me, Mr. Cheney. I cannot stomach the sight of your face because every time you crawl out from under that rock, this is what I see:

This is what I see:

And  don’t think for a moment that I don’t see this, either:

Or this:

This:

This:

Then, of course, there was that "other thing":

Oh, that?

Yeah, that.

Sure, I know my eyes are going bad, and for a moment there, I  couldn't believe what I was seeing when I got my first glimpse of these images, but I gotta hand it to you, Mr. Cheney, you really outdid yourself this time--these images most of all are the ones I see in your face:

Keith Olbermann, in an interview today with Salon.com, said, "I get nauseated when I see someone perpetually wrap themselves in the flag." He was talking about Fox News (and probably people like you, Mr. Cheney), but the image that came to my mind was this one:

Yeah, you've put a new twist on a lot of things, Mr. Cheney.

I, for one ,cannot stomach it anymore.

I'm "All shot up," Mr. Cheney, I've got the "Dick Cheney Blues". Thank God I'm not alone!