Old Fucker That Really Isn't That Old, Complaining About Being a Small Fish In a Big Pond When He Used to be a Big Fish in a Little Pond

Who here feels sympathy for the White House with regard to Vice President Cheney's "hunting accident" and the media's subsequent dog pack attack on it? Truthfully, now. Did any of you shed a tear or light a candle, because you felt Bush and/or Cheney were being wrongfully harassed?
I ask, because it seems many Republican politicians feel that our fair country does feel something akin to sympathy. I don't know about that. I can't, unlike most of our politicians, speak for the entire country. I can't glean what affects us en masse...other than apathy, narcissism and miopia.
One thing I do think I know is that there are a lot of politicians and lobbyists who are breathing a collective sigh of relief that Cheney chose to misfire on a hunting trip they were not invited to. And I don't mean that they are happy they didn't get shot. They're happy they weren't present and thereby see their names in the papers. Some of these people are probably jealous of Whittington. Talk about instant celebrity.
Here's a few names from a sure-to-be extensive list of hunting companions:
Since becoming vice president in January 2001, Cheney has continued to mix work and pleasure in these trips, at least in his choice of companions. Besides Graham and Chambliss, Cheney has gone hunting with a variety of other politicians, including Republican Sens. John Thune (S.D.), Trent Lott (Miss.) and Jim DeMint (S.C.), South Carolina Gov. Mark Sanford (R), former treasury secretary Nicholas F. Brady and former senators Phil Gramm (R-Tex.) and Zell Miller (D-Ga.).
But enough about that. Want to talk about the (rounded down) million dollars per year that we pay for Cheney's ballistic forays? Same article as above.
So, Cheney goes out akillin' in order to relax and rehumanize himself. Bully for him! While it's not something I would need to do when I've got a local watering hole and a pool table or dart board, I can't fault him for blowing animals away. But enough about that.
Of course, the fact that they can't even get their stories straight is a bit nonplussing. The President was notified within an hour. No, it was two. No, it was an hour and a half.
Katherine Armstrong was an eyewitness. No, she saw it from the truck. No, the first she knew about it was when she saw the Secret Service running towards the Veep and she thought it might be his heart again.
Then, she decided on her own to call the local press. No, she called Cheney first. No, it was Cheney's idea. No, Karl Rove called her and laid it out.
Scott McClellan didn't know until the next morning. Then, Scottie didn't know about the heart attack of the victim even though it was later proven that he DID know.
But enough about that.
I guess what this tawdry little affair boils down to (besides the tittilation of Cheney's maybe having a mistress) for me is that the point is now well and truly made that Cheney doesn't feel the need to notify his boss about anything until he's ready. In other words, no one knew about his vacation and no one knew about his shooting someone until he said it was time. In other words, too much time was spent working the spin on this and not enough on realizing that sometimes the truth is your best defense. It was an accident, it was regrettable, we're getting him the best care we can and we've talked with the local authorities immediately (which they didn't until the next morning. In fact. a local law guy was not allowed access to the ranch that night and when the local sheriff called about it was informed and satisfied with the ranch's response that it had set a meeting the next morning).
But enough about that.
Did you see the trailer for tonight's Desperate Housewives? The redhead passes out drunk on her own front lawn and her son turns the sprinklers on. Hilarity, I tell you. And so socially relevant. It's must-see teevee. If they weren't all so hot I'd turn the channel to something with meat to it like Rick Steves pretending he's straight. Or the Antiques Roadshow as it continues to destroy yardsales everywhere. I mean, when's the last time one of us found a treasure for a steal of a price (other than my moving sales last year)?
But enough about that, too.
By the way, Wallace and Gromit's new movie is very cute, very inventive. But I liked Chicken Run better. And Jodie Foster's Flightplan was intriguing, but I could have done with more of the "she's gotta be crazy" part. I mean, it's Jodie Foster fer crying out loud. Of course, she's not crazy. She's in that movie career moment (which can last an entire career) of being the protective mom who kicks ass eventually (think Panic Room). Strong female role, I like it. But paranoid and delusional would have been more fun. And would have been a first for her (I think). Now, Sahara was fun. Put away your preconditions for a tight plot with no gaping holes and it's a sleighride of the first caliber. Not to mention that Penelope Cruz couldn't look ugly if her body was exhumed 6 months after dying. What a hottie. And next to Matthew McConaughy who's a hottie in his own right. Plus (not hotties), you've got Steve Zahn and William Macy. Good, fun cast who made sure the action zoomed and the repartee sizzled.
So Zonthar, did I get enough politics in and enough ass out?