Dick Cheney may be one of the most sinister characters in American politics. He is the second most powerful elected official in the country (some will argue the first), and he does not believe in democracy. His view of an imperial president who is not accountable to anyone for anything is so far from the founding father’s idea of a government of and for the people, it resides in a parallel universe. He is a highly experienced liar and manipulator who routinely places his ideological agenda ahead of the nation’s best interests.
Cheney is the Neocons Neocon. Rigidly dogmatic, he is never in doubt about any course of action in which he’s involved, which makes picking out a tie in the morning easy, but running international policy virtually impossible. More than any other administration official, Cheney continues to argue about long resolved issues relating to pre-war Iraq, and, I don’t believe, has ever conceded that anything the administration said or did in the lead up to the war was a mistake.
When I think of Cheney I’m reminded of Henry Potter from “It’s a Wonderful Life,” the physically infirm, soulless capitalist who was an expert at exploiting the weaknesses of the good-hearted people of Bedford Falls. He revels in being the object of fear and never lets anyone forget who’s really in charge. Like Cheney, I imagine Potter never served in the military when he had the chance, yet enjoys shooting small animals from the window of his big black Cadillac.
The VP has been quiet of late, mostly popping up here and there to raise money for the GOP machine. It’s almost more unnerving when he’s not visible, because you know he’s lurking behind the curtain, whispering into George’s ear. Keeping close to the bunker. Hanging around, waiting for the sun to set.