Yesterday, Dick Cheney appeared on The News Hour on PBS to talk about his legacy.
I thought it would make me furious, livid, any synonym for irate you can conceive. I really wasn't sure I'd make it through it all. I listened to it via podcast today. I was hoping it would fire me up for my squash match. Yet it just made me want to cry. It was revolting. The nadir for me, at least, was the part in which he justified the torture, as defined by Susan Crawford, the official in charge of prosecutions at Guantánamo, in part because all the individual techniques were authorised. He couldn't know exactly how they were all being implemented, but they were authorised, so he's in the clear. Yes, they were, by a legally faulty and morally bankrupt memorandum that the Office of Legal Counsel wrote to justify torture. A memorandum that featured so many errors the subsequent head of OLC had to revoke it, something that almost never happens to OLC memos.
It didn't make me angry, just sick to my stomach.
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