Former Vice President Dick Cheney passed away yesterday, leaving behind what some have called a murky legacy. How exactly do we remember this complicated, enigmatic man? Some would say “war criminal,” or “Machiavellian,” others “brave” or “patriotic.” Well, I don’t know about all that, but I knew Dick personally, and of my friends I can only say this: Of all the souls I’ve known who have shot men in the face and then strong-armed them into apologizing for it, his was the most human.
Before I elaborate on Dick’s gregarious warmth, at least in comparison to the extremely niche metric of men who have shot their friends in the face and then had the audacity to turn around and say, “Hey, you really fucked me here, make it right,” let me ask you this: Have you met many people that have shot people and then demanded an appology? They are, to say the least, an unsavory bunch. A lot of them are downright ghoulish, and certainly not the type of people you want to meet down a dark alley. Think Javier Bardem in “No Country for Old Men.” Now, think Dick Cheney. Not so bad, right?
I happened to be in the room when Dick first visited Harry Whittington in the hospital, and let me tell you, the laughter Dick made upon seeing Whittington’s freshly shot face for the first time was one of the most reserved and stifled laughs I have ever heard. You could really tell that right below damage control and hating Whittington’s dumb face for being in the way of his gun in the first place, concern for his friend was at the top of Dick’s mind. He even asked, “How ya holdin’ up?” before laying out what the consequences of not issuing an immediate public apology for being shot in the face would look like for him.
What you need to keep in mind is the fact that Dick wasn’t trying to shoot his friend at all! He was trying to shoot a flock of birds that had been surgically rendered incapable of flight. That’s what a good guy he was.
You so-called “progressives” can finger-wag about “war crime” this and “irreparably damaged the system of checks and balances that held our democracy together” that. I will always just remember the kind, kind man who, after shouting “What the fuck was your face doing there, you idiot?!” and “Jesus, the press is going to eat me alive!” had the compassion to say “Somebody get fuckface a towel or something?! He’s bleeding out like a pig, and these shoes cost more than your life!”
Rest in peace, Dick. If there’s a crippled bird game park with extremely lax safety regulations in heaven, I know you’re getting one hell of an apology right now.
