Dick Cheney is a booliboo.
Booliboo? Don’t run to your dictionary to look it up. No such word. I made it up.
That’s what you can do when you enter Cheney’s fantasy world. On his unlit planet, Dorothy’s yellow brick road is more authentic than Interstate 71. Pinocchio’s nose doesn’t extend but grows backward into his skull. The invasion of Iraq would lead to a peaceful conquest in a few weeks.
Booliboos resort to Orwellian newspeak, the patron of duckspeak in which it is perfectly OK for apples to fall up from trees rather than to the ground below, Newton be damned. Torture is the untorture of enhanced interrogation. Besides, only sissies kiss the enemy on both cheeks. Patriots never have to apologize for waterboarding, rectal feeding or stuffing people in cramped boxes until further notice. How else can we insure America’s safety?
So, yes, Cheney is a booliboo who was once a heartbeat – today, not even his own! – away from the presidency. Thinking about that close call is torture enough for the rest of us.
Reposted from Grumpy Abe
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