Following up on my pictorial Cheney post, this post over at Best of the Blogs sets it out nicely:
“Is there anything wussier than the most powerful man on the planet, along with other incredibly powerful men and women, drunk on their omnipotence, hatching plans to cement their omnipotence, dressing up like Elmer Fudd, and celebrating it all by kablooming with shotguns at point blank range animals and birds trotted up before them like metal bears on a revolving track at a carnival? They couldn't shoot skeets? Critters have to die? That won't even be eaten? Skeets, metal targets? How does one prove one's power to decide life and death with clay Frisbees and tin bears?
I don't understand the lure of dressing in camo, dousing yourself in whatever deer hunters douse themselves in, hiking deep into the woods, perching stock still in a tree stand for hours, shooting a deer, dressing it, carrying it out, eating it, but I do understand there is a significant difference between that and massacring trapped animals for giggles. The first is hunting, the second is killing.And it's the killing that gives Cheney - and his colleagues, and everyone else who does this - his thrill. Killing for killing's sake. Such a manly man. Such power he wields. Such a coward. Such a despicable effing wussy.”
For a person such as myself - a person that will trap a spider in a glass jar and carry it outside rather than killing it - hunting is an alien notion to me. But I understand that the cycle of life involves killing and eating. What I’ll never understand is a person’s innate desire to kill something for what amounts to shits and giggles. If you’d kill a bird, why not a bear? If you’d kill a bear, why not an ape? If you’d kill an ape, why not a human? I don’t believe that we are an anointed species, blessed and more important than the next.
Update: On the day in question, apparently Cheney's soul, long since detached from his body when he sold it to the devil, paid his earthly body a visit, and pleaded with him to do the right thing, all to no avail. [if the rude pundit ain't the most entertaining political blogster out there then I'm not sure who is.]
Update 2: Juan Cole delivers 10 reasons why Iraq is like Harry Whittington:
"8. Cheney tried to cover up how bad Whittington's condition was after he shot him. Cheney tried to cover up how bad Iraq's situation is after he had it invaded.
9. Cheney thought Iraq had weapons of mass destruction. Cheney thought Whittington was a small bird.10. Cheney shot Whittington while hunting in the dark. Cheney invaded Iraq while being in the dark.
10. Cheney shot Whittington while hunting in the dark. Cheney invaded Iraq while being in the dark."
Thursday, February 16, 2006
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4 comments:
Beats me too. What possible enjoyment is there in blasting quails out of the sky? Or any other animal for that matter? (I make an exception with pests like rabbits - but killing them is not for sport, its a pest control exercise.)
Brilliant!
Excellent summary. I personally loved when you typed 'kablooming.'
Why'd the old guy jump in front of Cheney's gun? To save the quail?
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