Scott McClellan Confesses for His Damned Soul (and Lots of Cash):
The Rude Pundit has always had great admiration for those who easily offer forgiveness for mortal offenses: the father of a murder victim accepting the apology of the killer, the elderly woman in the hospital granting pardon to the man who broke her arm snatching her purse, the scarred victim of a terrorist explosion wishing peace to the family of the suicide bomber. For, indeed, one of the true gifts of the teachings of the biblical Christ is the capacity to forgive those who commit heinous acts. It is, perhaps, the only way to stay sane in this world. But, still, it is not the path most of us actually have the tenacity to take.
While the Rude Pundit nurses few or no grudges in his daily life, there are times, yes, there are times when someone asks for forgiveness that he says, simply, even plaintively, "Oh, no. Never." For instance, now that former Bush administration press secretary Scott McClellan has spilled his guts for a big advance and a chance to up his speaking engagement fees, there is an implicit begging for absolution like a child molesting priest at the feet of an eye-rolling bishop ("Oh, fuck, not again").
What's been revealed so far from McClellan's book will be greeted by anyone paying attention for the last few years with, "Yeah, what else ya got?" The administration launched a propaganda campaign to sell the war? The not-really-liberal-at-all media didn't do its job in the run-up to the war or after? "The Iraq war was not necessary"? Rove and Libby lied about the outing of Valeria Plame? Bush was a complete dunderhead when it came to Hurricane Katrina? Really, Scotty? At this point, is there still wool that needs to be pulled from someone's eyes? We're all about ten steps ahead of McClellan by now. Jesus, at least give us something new, like, say, Cheney threatening to have Libby's cats gutted if Scooter didn't take the fall.
The Rude Pundit ain't in a forgiving mood when it comes to lackeys and co-conspirators in the Bush administration. McClellan doesn't get to say, as he does in the book, "The collapse of the administration’s rationales for war, which became apparent months after our invasion, should never have come as such a surprise." Not when he said, in late January 2004, months after the invasion, regarding the chimeric weapons of mass destruction, "Yes, we believe he had them, and yes, we believe they will be found. We believe the truth will come out." No, the little bulldog bitch who every day snarled at the press, even when caught in outright lies, does not get the bounty of fulsome forgiveness.
Hopefully, the book will tank, and McClellan will be reduced to blowing Hannity for nickels. Screw this obsequious pig-fucking son of a bitch, this grubby little man-whore, attempting to purge his soul of the taint and stench of death and sorrow while pulling in a buck or two. He's not honorable enough to have fallen on his sword, rhetorically or literally. And he's not even loyal enough to have shut the fuck up (at least an admirable quality in the abstract). He deserves a room in Hell lined with televisions playing his sneering statements of complicity on an endless loop while he's forced to sit on a couch made of the bloated corpses of Katrina victims. Way too little, way, way too late, you miserable bucket of spooge.
And, don't worry, Scott: you can bet Karl Rove's Sodomizin' Stormtroopers will be knocking down your door some time soon, ready to put your bloody, reamed ass on display on Fox "news" for all to point at and nod while you just wonder when your reward's coming.
