You Don’t Know Dick

Los Angeles, May 19, 2009
By Danny McBride


Dick Cheney stopped by the house the other day on the way to one of his TV talking head appearances. Turns out he was in the neighborhood going door to door to defend his policies on torture. I was very surprised when I answered the knock at the door and there was Dick telling me he didn’t torture. So after listening to him for a half an hour I can tell you that that really was torture.

“Dick you’re through”, I said. “Climb on that old Cayuse of yours, pack up that bird-hunting, attorney blasting shotgun you own, and hippity – hop your way back to Ole Wyoming wherever you’re from- -Cheyenne?(One thinks of Clint Walker as Cheyenne Bodie). The Man From Laramie? (That’s Jimmy Stewart). Whatever. You’re not them- -more like Dr Strangelove or Marlon Brando as Lux Luthor. Just go. You’ve spent more time hanging around after you’re done than a bad house guest who won’t leave. Your expiration date was January 20th. And what is it now? Good-bye, already”.

Yeah, okay you didn’t torture. Methinks thou doth protest too much, or whatever the correct quote is You’re like the little kid who keeps coming into the kitchen to tell Mom “I didn’t eat the cookies: It must have been the Cookie Monster”.

Waterboarding. Sounds like skateboarding or snowboarding. X-Games stuff. Except it’s not. It’s simulated drowning; If you’ve ever caught a mouthful of water while swimming or snorkeling or, heck, just in the shower, you know the panic that goes with it. And here you are held down by people who are not especially being nice to you and you may think that it’s the end.

But how can this make any sense? Tell me what I want to know or I’ll drown you? And of course then I’ll’never know what you know that you might be able to tell me. So if I’m already not going to tell you and I know the fable about the 72 virgins, why would I tell you? It’s as stupid as playing Enter Sandman to try to torture people. I like Enter Sandman and it would be an eye opener for someone who has never heard good rock music. They’re more likely to want the CD for their iPods than to crack under pressure.
But Dick kept droning on. Talk about torture. “We haven’t had any attacks on our soil in 7 ½ years”. Yeah, but what about that first six or eight months when your boy didn’t bother to read his Presidential Daily Briefings, especially that August 6th, 2001, one that said Osama was going to attack inside the U.S? It would have been good to know that in advance. Do you realize more civilians died on your watch here in America than ever before?

But Dick didn’t seem to care. All he wanted to do was to clear his name. His old ship
was sinking and he wanted to try to change the subject. John Ashcroft, Alberto Gonzales, Michael Mukasey, Michael Chertoff, Douglas Feith, David Addington. These guys might end up being disbarred at the least, or, heck, waterboarded themselves just to show how innocent the whole thing was. But not Dick. He was on a mission to tell people how innocent he was and the rest are on their own. Even if he has to go door to door to tell people.

So the guy who spent the better part of eight years in an undisclosed location and had his official residence, The Naval Observatory, removed from GOOGLE Earth, is now so prevalent that soon he may become a game show host, he’s on TV that often.

All I can say, Dick, is that not only are you Doctor Evil personified, you’re an obnoxious bore.

As he turned to go, I looked down the street to see that someone else was ringing doorbells.

Lord, deliver me, I thought.

It’s Nancy Pelosi.

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