A Conversation in High Places Regarding Torture:
If you haven't yet read the New York Times article on just how deranged the Bush administration is about covering its ass over torture, do it and then come back here. The Rude Pundit will wait...
Yeah, yeah, it's long. Get the fuck back there and finish it. Jesus, short attention-spanned motherfuckers.
You done? Good. Let's get going here:
In essence, what that article by Scott Shane, David Johnston, and James Risen said is that conversations went on in the White House and the Justice Department in the United States that went something like this: Bush might say, "Hey, all that fucked-up shit we've been doing to prisoners, how much of it can we still do?"
To which some random bloodthirsty Yoo or Addington would say, "Oh, fuck, we can do whatever the fuck we want."
And some plaintive Comey or Goldsmith would say, "Umm, we kinda got treaties and shit, maybe a few laws that might say we should back off."
And some Cheney or, to a lesser extent, Gonzales would say, "Yeah, right, fuck you, Comey or Goldsmith. Yoo or Addington, kick out the enhanced interrogation jams and tell those CIA pussies who wanna know if shit's legal that we got their backs."
And some sighing Comey or Goldsmith would say, "Uh, not to be all buzzkill, but McCain's got a hard-on for stoppin' the waterboardin'. Congress might just put the kibosh on the whole deal."
And some lip-licking Yoo or Addington would say, "Are you fuckin' kiddin me? Fuck Congress. Imperial presidency, cuntface. Constitution sez the Prez can do whatever the fuck he wants, long as he's makin' us safe. And McCain's a little bitch. He'll shut the fuck up or Lindsey Graham'll fuck him in the Senate cloak room."
And some increasingly sad Comey or Goldsmith would say, "Don't really think the Constitution means that."
And some Cheney or, to a lesser extent, Gonzales would say, "Dude, dude, you don't really get this do you? It ain't just that we get to make up the laws as we go. We get to make our own motherfuckin' dictionary. Ain't nothin' torture 'less we sez it is."
And some pathetically frustrated Comey or Goldsmith or Ashcroft would say, "Fuck this. I'm out." And leave.
And some Yoo or Addington would be all like, "Woo-hoo. In yer face, motherfuckers."
And some Cheney or, to an even lesser extent, Gonzales would go, "Call the CIA. Tell 'em naked, drownin', sleepless brown people is a-okay."
And Bush would say, "I'm glad we decided we're not war criminals. Now lemme go tell Umerka we done made 'em more securer."
And then in some brightly-lit metal cell at Bagram Air Base or Gitmo, ice cold water was thrown on a naked man from Iraq, with the water tosser feeling assured that what he was doing was good and right for God and country.
A few years back, a social worker friend gave the Rude Pundit a simple moral question that seems so obvious once it's said, but it hangs over the Rude Pundit constantly. He was looking for absolution for some betrayal of trust he wanted to commit. The friend said, "You have to ask yourself, 'At the end of the day, what kind of person do I want to be?'" The Rude Pundit decided he wasn't that kind of person. No, he ain't a saint, but he ain't outright cruel.
The Rude Pundit has not been one of the loud drum beaters for impeachment out here in Left Blogsylvania because of the practicality of achieving it. But he has to say that the longer these depraved motherfuckers get to go unpunished, the more obvious it is that the Congress and, indeed, the citizens of this fallen nation have decided what kind of people they are.