You know we're in trouble when a man with the blind arrogance of Donald Rumsfeld has the audacity to compare himself with a man like Winston Churchill. Further, how dare Mr. Rumsfeld, a principal culprit in our waning (if not exhausted) credibility, lecture us on "the lessons of history."
How dare he?
How dare he liken himself to any person on this earth whom history has noted to be objective or foreseeing?
I propose that Mr. Rumsfeld, in light of the President's complete failure to fire him, focus on the bombs that are blowing up at an escalating rate every single day in Iraq. I propose that he examine (although the information seems difficult to find) the growing failure of his arrogant policy for Afghanistan. For, they are fine "lessons" from his own history.
For this man to lecture me or anyone else on anything is to pour acid in my ears. For this man to be graced with a podium and a paycheck to spout off the "righteousness" of his blatant ignorance is exactly like being backhanded whilst bound. Yet, he is permitted and encouraged to stand before us, holding a lifetime of falsehood and disgrace, holding six years of self-service and its inherent consequence to those who do not enjoy his insulation from it, and place it upon our shoulders.
Buried in some talking point somewhere, there is a bullet that suggests that "history will be the judge. . ." of the actions and character of Mr. Rumsfeld and his President [et. al.] The point that these despicable people are missing is that this is now and tomorrow's history is going to disgrace them just as tomorrow's history is none of their concern.
And so, while I am not one to use profanity in my writing, I feel that the actions of this horrid man warrant the strongest summation I can muster:
Fuck you, Mr. Rumsfeld.
You are a disgrace and a cancer on my nation. Your presence in my government is treasonous at best and is insignificant in comparison to mine as a citizen. History shall judge you as a loathsome wretch; a murderer of innocents and soldiers alike; a man incapable of identifying reality nor the dynamics of global realities.
I am hopeful to enjoy the history of the day you are placed in a small cell and forced to pay with your remaining years for your crimes. And should you pass before me, I shall spit on the ground and envision your grave. While you remain, I shall pray for your solemn and constant misfortune. I shall pray that your suffering is matched to the suffering that you and yours have caused to all of God's children.
You are no Churchill. Rather, you are precisely what and who he was warning us about. Further, you are a glaring icon of the natural and inevitable failure of the future he was describing. I am certain that, should he be privileged to witness your ill-warranted evocation of his name, Mr. Churchill is cringing in a hateful posture, cursing your name as he fights his frustration from not being able to slap your face.
Your history is now, Mr. Rumsfeld. Your dastardly obliteration of your duty to my nation is etched in granite.
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