My annual rant

You know, the guiding principles of several Eastern schools of thought, such as Zen Buddhism or the writings of the Taoist philosophers, lead people to strive for balance. Of course, in order to achieve this balance, sometimes you have to lock away those black thoughts that man is prone to. Having done that, you have a choice: you can either let this poison out every so often, or you can allow the darkness to pool inside your gut and eat you up from the inside.

Personally, I prefer to let it out every so often.

Now, you understand that everything that follows is my own opinion. Bolstered, perhaps, by easily-checked facts, but entirely my own opinion, and thus not subject to any silly charges of "libel" or "slander."

But Dick Cheney, for the last year or so, has been vocal about his opposition to everything Barack Obama does and stands for. Just this last week, he went on the Fox "News" channel with the eternally-vacuous Sean ("Greatest, Best Talking Point the GOP Gave Man") Hannity, to reiterate pretty much the same things he's been saying since he was evicted from his cushy job of destroying the country.

Over the course of the hour-long tongue-bath Hannity gave to the flaccid, wrinkled tool and sagging nutsack of the former Vice President, Cheney vomited up his usual litany of opinions: that Obama consistently apologizes for America (a country which has never done anything wrong), is weak and indecisive, shouldn't offer fair trials to criminals, and "doesn't fully understand or share that view of American exceptionalism."

Now, is it just me, or would it be fair to say that, when your legacy (such as it is) will be that you played Vice to the single worst President in United States history (and I firmly believe that you could even factor the Emperor Norton into this equation), perhaps your opinion really doesn't matter as much as Sean Hannity thinks it does?

Should we be taking foreign policy advice from the man who played first chair (if not puppetmaster) to an administration who consistently fucked up every foreign policy decision they encountered? His philosophies are the smallpox blanket of the political landscape.

Cheney doesn't even have Rush Limbaugh's excuse of raging addiction to prescription drugs. Although, to be fair, at this point Dick Cheney's metabolism has probably been subtly altered to a state where it demands both Lipitor and stool softeners on an hourly basis, but there are very few people who would include that condition in their definition of "addiction." It's not like he takes them for pleasure (except, perhaps, the simple joy of an unencumbered crap); there has been no pleasure in the Cheney household since the Harding administration.

Dick Cheney is the dung beetle who walks like a man. He is such an openly counterfeit shell of humanity that growing up in the same household put his daughter Mary off of men entirely.

This is the man who was still taking several million dollars every year from Halliburton, while steering billions of no-bid contracts their way; but even given that fact, there are still people who believe that he can even write the word "honor" without his hand bursting into flame.

He is an open, pustulant sore on the face of humanity, oozing a slimetrail of misery in his wake, and there can be no benefit to him walking freely and unshackled among the good peoples of this great nation.

Dick Cheney is a coward who took five deferments to avoid going to Vietnam (a lovely vacation spot where my father had the opportunity to spend not one, but two tours).

Who believes that the best military advice comes from a man who mismanaged the two wars he had a chance to help lead, and ran screaming like a little girl from the one he had a chance to participate in?

There is a political faction in this country who believes that America would be best served if Dick Cheney were to run for President in 2012; there is even a portion of them (including his daughter) who have suggested Sarah Palin as his running mate.

That would be a nightmare scenario that even Stephen King would balk at writing: Dick Cheney destroying America, and then dying so that Sarah Palin could skullfuck the twitching remains of the country with her Alaskan strap-on.

You do remember Sarah Palin, right? (I'd like to say that I don't, but the media won't let me forget about her.) A woman so hypocritical that she called Barack Obama a socialist, even as she was signing the checks sending the profits of Exxon-Mobil to the citizens of Alaska.

Sarah Palin is a raging narcissist so self-deluded that she accused Obama of being inexperienced, while her résumé consisted of:
- Beauty contestant who could barely manage the title of "Miss Congeniality,"
- sportscaster,
- mayor of a town roughly the size of a Super Walmart,
- a partial term as governor of Alaska (a job she wasn't competent enough to complete, incidentally).

Perhaps I'll discuss Sarah Palin some other time. For the moment, fuck her, fuck her useless husband who can't hold down a job, and fuck the political props she calls "her family."

I'm not even positive that Cheney is qualified to be President now. He is, after all, a wholly-owned subsidiary of Halliburton. So when that company moved their headquarters to the now-struggling Dubai (fleeing the Justice Department and Securities Exchange Commission), wouldn't that have changed Cheney to a citizen of the United Arab Emirates?

Dick Cheney is the rectal polyp who would be king. There is no joy in his heart - there is, in fact, some question about whether the shriveled black lump in his chest qualifies as a "heart"; it definitely doesn't perform any primary cardiac functions well.

I would say that Dick Cheney could suck my balls, if I wasn't positive that the sight of this bloated slug kneeling in front of me laving my testicles with his tongue would cause me to wake up screaming every night for the rest of my life.

Dick Cheney is a shambling undead corpse, screaming for the blood of our servicemen to be shed at the altar of his false, evil gods of war and despair.

When Dick Cheney dies, there will be more light in the world. And it is entirely possible that when the combination of massive doses of pharmaceuticals and a daily regimen of cardiac stimulation finally fails him and his heart stops for the last time, the faint singing of angels will be heard throughout the land.
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And having said all of that, I feel better already. I'm happy, relaxed, and at peace with the world around me. You should try it sometime.