I’m told that if you cannot say anything nice, then say nothing at all.
My grandma used to tell me, “Only say good things about the dead.”
OK…………. Good. He’s dead.
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Yeah, getting ready for his sainthood, now that he’s gone.
The man invented the October Surprise for Saint Ronnie.
There’s nothing honorable or noble about keeping Americans as prisoners in Iran for political advantage.
He was a shit heel of the first order, and the hagiography is disgusting.
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And that is just the tip of his crimes.
Yeah. I still think about how he used spent nuclear fuel as a battlefield weapon. There’s a special place in Hell for Poppy: right next to Babs-the-Impaler for all eternity. And she is the one who gets the pointy stick.
Thanks for skipping the hagiographical circle jerk that always accompanies this sort of event
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Willie Horton sends his thoughts and prayers.
Here’s hoping that Trump attends his funeral and befouls the proceedings. It would be fitting.
Picture it – The Obamas, the Clintons and the Carters all sitting behind tRumpf and his hookerbot piece of fluff, all staring at the back of his bald head while he plays with his phone as Jeb crawls under the pews to tie tRumpf’s shoe laces together.
Saying nothing at all [well except this . . . note to self: push the damned keyboard away, now!].
Well, he wasn’t the worst Republican since Eisenhower…or the worst part of his family tree. So, if that a saint makes, well….
As Chimpy would say, that’s setting the pie mighty low.
No mention of his handsiness in any of the glowing coverage. Funny that.
Well, he didn’t like broccoli, but aside from that I don’t know of one single characteristic that I would consider decent or appealing.
Ah, who now remembers those heady days when a prez saying something like “I don’t like broccoli, and now I’m president I don’t have to eat it” was considered newsworthy, even controversial? Remember when just being photographed on a yacht with a woman who was not your wife could utterly destroy a promising presidential candidacy? Remember how a president wearing a tan suit or requesting Dijon mustard was breaking news?
We’ve come a long way, baby.
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In a time of war — a necessary war — Poppa Bush served his country in real battles, not Champagne flights like his “War President” son, nor multiple deferments like Right-Wing Commander General Chickenhawk Bone Spur.
But then, so did so many of Papa Bush’s generation.
Ok, you’ve got a point. He wasn’t a sniveling coward chomping at the bit for other people’s kids to pay a price he wouldn’t.
On the other hand, he was head of the CIA during a time when the CIA was rumored to be engaged in questionable practices (more than usual), he backed Reagan as VP when Reagan was slipping downhill with Alzheimer’s (and how many of Reagan’s execrable policies could be laid at Bush’s feet if we knew the whole truth? Think Bush/Cheney for comparison), he kicked off a war (a short one, granted – we called it “War: the Miniseries” at the time) that got wall to wall coverage and launched Wolf Blitzer’s career and was allegedly started to get control over oil ME production and prices (the Bushes were heavy into oil) a series of events that his well trained son restarted, but with more blatant admissions of the oil connection.
Oh, and he threw up on the Japanese Prime Minister. Let’s focus on that, that’ll be fun.
They say only the good die young.
Well, age 94 sounds about right…..
Like his wife, the guy was a toxic scumbag -inside and out.
Sure, he’s being portrayed as an elegant Republican for a more civilized age, but Medhi Hasan has a great piece about his legacy at ‘The Intercept’.
Here’s a snip from the Hasan article: “… officials estimated … that up to 250,000 Iraqi troops and 1,500 tanks stood on the border, threatening the key U.S. oil supplier.”
Dude was interested in oil, and his experience in various fields, like espionage, helped him choose the wording he used to sell his war to congress. “Up to” includes “zero”, the number of troops anyone else could see on that border.
Truly, that man was a piece of work.
BTW – not that I don’t appreciate the entertainment value of spreadsheets, but why is that first link here? I don’t see the connection.
Okay, I’ll bear the “something nice:” he popularized the trend of wearing groovy, psychadelic socks, a weighty and lauded contribution to popular culture indeed. MUCH more precious to the texture of American identity than anything in ‘Grains Seventies fashion extravaganzas, and that’s sayin’ a lot!
Sleeve – you left out “over his cloven hoofies.” — TG
He loved dogs, and butts.
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