on the Cheney accident
(snip)
"And so, after decades at the heights of power helping to mount and administer great battles that caused many thousands of deaths and injuries, the aging leader set out one afternoon into the fields of his beloved homeland in pursuit of a bird that meant no harm to him and which showed him at last — unintentionally, in a twinkling, and in a way that forever changed his heart and, over time, the hearts of all our leaders — what it was actually like to shoot a man."
It's no wonder we're spellbound by Dick Cheney's hunting accident despite the fact that no one died and the responsible party apologized (though not, perhaps, as promptly as he might have). It may be a small story in an age of big ones — an odd minor scene in history's bloody pageant — but if you let it sink down inside your mind and resonate there for just a little while, you have to confess that it’s potent, mythic stuff.
(snip)
It's like war, I've suggested, but it's also unlike war, mostly because the quarry poses no threat. In a time of actual war — and when one of the hunters helps to run that war — the playfulness of the sport may seem distasteful. To shoot at feathered things while obliging other folks to shoot at much larger creatures that shoot back doesn't seem right somehow, or wise. At some poetic level it tempts the gods, and the gods are always armed. For Cheney, that's the painful, humbling part. For the public, it's the engrossing, mythic part. The press may be mauling the story and prolonging it, but the accident's strange allegorical allure is beyond its power to affect.
more…
http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,1161139,00.html