Known Unknown

Sigh, can’t be sure (and have my doubts) there’s a hell, but if there is, they just welcomed a special permanent resident

An actuarial table of the deaths for which Donald Rumsfeld is responsible is difficult to assemble. In part, that’s a consequence of his policy, as defense secretary from 2001 to 2006, not to compile or release body counts, a PR strategy learned after disclosing the tolls eroded support for the Vietnam War. As a final obliteration, we cannot know, let alone name, all the dead.

Sure, The Daily Beast notes, not quite as bad as Kissinger, but goddamn, that’s a bar so low you need a backhoe to dig it up.

And, as always, the corporate media eagerly pushed the GOP daddy myth

Of all the embarrassments the elite political media committed in the run-up to the disastrous invasion of Iraq, the deification of Rumsfeld as some kind of granite-jawed Marlboro Man because of his quasi-cryptic bullshit is right there at the top.

Then, a final gift, Rummy was allowed to drift away to spend more time with his estate (Mount Misery), while The Cult of The Savvy pursued Hillary’s emails (and paid scant attention to, oh, I don’t know, a written justification for torture by bragging about having a standing desk…IOKIYAR, to cite a Rummy-era acronym).

Laff…he’s such a piece of shit hell might kick him out.

Sure, the Underworld is evil incarnate, but they’ve got standards.

May he rot.

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