http://www.mikemalloy.comDick Cheney likes to kill things. Usually things that can't escape, don't have a chance, that are snared or caught in some manner that puts them at Cheney's mercy. Dick Cheney doesn't go "hunting" like a normal hunter. He goes murdering. For the most part, he seems to enjoy shooting game birds that have been made defenseless either by being raised in a completely benign and protected environment -- and therefore unable to respond quickly to a threat -- or by having certain of their wing feathers removed at birth thus leaving them unable to fly efficiently as they age.
These birds (and other animals) are kept on ranches in Texas, ranches owned for generations by wealthy Republicans (this one owned by the family of Katharine Armstrong) who understand the perverse needs of their fellow Conservatives: the need to kill without personal risk; the lust for complete power, including that of life or death over other living creatures, all living creatures, including human beings. (See: Iraq, invasion of.) In this context, Cheney, Supreme Court Justice "Mad" Anthony Scalia, and other puffy, slow-moving, Republican killers are let loose on private ranches in order to periodically -- and safely (for them) -- satiate this craving. On these private preserves the cowardly, unsportsmanlike killing can proceed at will, offstage, out of the public eye, unseen.
On Saturday last, according to news reports and a very strange article in the New York Times, Cheney and one of his companions -- the hapless 78-year-old corporate lawyer Harry Whittington - were stalking birds from their vehicles, cruising the backwoods roads and trails, shooting through the open windows of their Range Rover or Hummer or Escalade when Whittington got out of the vehicle to retrieve one of the birds he had just shot from the padded comfort of the rear seat. Moving on down the road, Cheney and the rest of his "hunting" party were focused on another covey of deliberately handicapped birds when Whittington came walking up on Cheney's blind side. At that point Cheney turned and pulled the trigger, mistakenly thinking Whittington was a dove, or a pheasant, (or perhaps Donald Rumsfeld.) Or maybe Cheney opened fire fully realizing Whittington was a man. Who will ever know? After filling the victim's cheek, neck, chest and right side, with what is described cavalierly as "little bitty pellets," Cheney's ever-present medical team covered the man in blankets and waited for the rescue crew.
Cheney continued his "hunt."
The incident is over. No comment. No White House report for more than 24 hours after the shooting. And, certainly, no investigation. Unless poor Mr. Whittington should die. Even then a quick investigation -- by a carefully selected panel of experts -- will conclude it was his age that did him in, not a few "little bitty pellets" from Dick Cheney's shotgun and any argument to the contrary will come only from those who truly hate the United States and are doing everything they can to support the terrorists. I have a suggestion, one that might settle once and forever Cheney's interest in killing and death. Arm him and armor him to the extent that our finest soldiers are armed and protected in Iraq. Surround him with one of those well-trained, combat-ready Iraqi units Cheney tells us is ready to "step up" so American soldiers can "step down." Put him in a standard Humvee and send him and his Iraqi unit to, oh, say, Fallujah. Let him go "hunting" there.
We'll examine the wondrous implications of such a hunting trip tonight. Or not. Join me.
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