DETROIT -- The Bushites and war worshipers are squealing like stuck pigs, poked in their corrupt entrails as the stench of their greed, arrogance and duplicity fills the air. Michael Moore's film "Fahrenheit 9/11" and the public's growing appetite for the truth are causing the political bleeding and porcine panic.
Vice President Cheney is so rattled about investigations into the dirty dealings of Halliburton under his watch and the company's war profiteering in Iraq that he spewed the F-word at a United States senator on the floor of that normally dignified body. Cheney said his outburst was "long overdue," ignoring his pledge in the 2000 campaign that he and his sidekick would "restore a tone of civility and decency to the debate in Washington."
I'm not offended by the profanity as much as I am by the disgusting hypocrisy of this sanctimonious White House crowd, the Bible-thumpers who sit in their prayer meetings and plot to unplug Howard Stern for his foul mouth. It's Stern's politics, not his profanity on the radio, that the Bush faithful find offensive.
Cheney can't even come clean when caught cursing. My grandfather Daniel Buckley knew the type. He'd mutter in his thick (or "tick," as he'd say) Irish brogue, "The man would lie when the truth would help."
Even though there were about 15 eyewitness when Cheney told Vermont Sen. Patrick Leahy to "f--- yourself," the man only a skipping heartbeat away from the president will only admit that he "probably" said something like that. That weaseling is typical Cheney-speak and he does it in matters small and great.
Niagara Falls Reporter Editor in Chief Mike Hudson wrote a letter to Crown Prince Abdullah on company stationery when the Saudi leader took out a full-page ad in The New York Times and other papers expressing regrets over the Sept. 11 attacks and trying to distance his regime from the mass murders his citizens committed and financed.
Mike's a candid guy and he used the very same phrase Cheney did, telling the prince what he thought of the belated apology. But unlike Cheney, Hudson will sign his name to the profanities he uses and he'll even send you a copy if you ask.
Whatever Cheney "probably" said, his "family values" wife, Lynne, won't be washing his mouth out with soap. Cheney admits that he "felt better after I had done it," a distinctly liberal emotion.
How special, as the church lady would say.
Cheney's still reeling over the 9/11 Commission report that debunks any collaboration between al-Qaeda and Iraq in the terrorist attacks.
The more adamant Cheney is, the more solemn he sounds. And the more he looks over his glasses with that powerful scowl, the more likely it is that he's not telling the truth. CNBC's Gloria Borger was grilling Cheney over his unproven claim that Sept. 11 ringleader and hijacker Mohammed Atta had a powwow with an Iraqi intelligence operative in Prague. Borger reminded Cheney that he had claimed the meeting that never occurred was "pretty well confirmed."
"Never said that," Cheney bellowed.
Borger protested, "I think that ..."
"Absolutely not," Cheney interrupted.
I'm blessed, or perhaps cursed, with a pretty good memory. When I heard Cheney's denial, I was sure he had said just that, no probably about it. Sure enough, the transcript from Cheney's Dec. 9, 2001 appearance on NBC's "Meet The Press" confirms my recollection. I'll report. You decide. Speaking of Atta, Cheney said flat-out, "It's pretty well confirmed that he did go to Prague and he did meet with a senior official of the Iraqi intelligence service."
It's pretty well confirmed the vice president will dodge the truth, but he generally appears cool and in control. So what's got him in such a tizzy?
Imagine, if you will, an early-morning, hushed conversation in the bedroom of Cheney's secret bunker.
"Dick, you're sweating like a Wyoming mountain mule and cursing in your sleep. What's wrong?"
"Never mind, Lynne. Forget it."
"Honey buns, I know you're under pressure, but the supremes just got you off the hook and no one will ever know how you let Kenny-boy and all those Enron guys decide national energy policy."
"Yeah, that's true. And remind me to send Tony Scalia some more Cuban cigars and let's have them over for our next bunker barbecue."
"Sure, dear, but please stop sweating!"
"I can't. It's those damn Nigerians. How do I explain Halliburton paid out $180 million in bribes to them when I was in charge and I didn't know about it?"
"You'll think of something, dear."
"I wish I could, but the French want to make me testify and that damn SEC is looking at our books."
"Don't worry, dear. Just tell them to go f--- themselves."
No chance the Cheneys will be showing "Fahrenheit 9/11" to the Scalias when they drop by. They don't mind the Bush-bashing and probably agree with some of it. But there are far too many Halliburton moments in the film for polite company and Tricky Dick's serial lying is apparent.
Michael Moore's cinematic polemic is riveting. Its popularity, along with the continuing agony in Iraq, is creating a perfect storm of summer controversy for the Bush administration and it's not going to blow over.
The themes in the film will be familiar to regular readers of this space -- the Bush entanglements with Saudi money, including the bin Ladens, the phony case for war with Iraq, the death and suffering that terrible struggle has brought and the media's despicable role in selling the big lies.
My critics like to hurl what they consider insults at me. My favorite is "you're worse than that Maureen Dowd" and one of the most frequent is "I'll bet you like Michael Moore, too." Yes, I do, and we've been friends for nearly 20 years. I once told him, "Michael, I knew you when you were poor and obscure." He responded, "Yeah, now I'm rich and obese."
People seem to love or hate Moore and his film has inspired an incredible level of political passion and wrath. A conservative group is now trying to get the Federal Election Commission to stop promotions for the movie as the political conventions approach.
We know Disney made a political decision not to distribute the film at the expense of their shareholders. Theater chains were pressured to stay away from it and it was given an R rating -- unfairly, Moore argues.
We chatted last Friday, the day of the film's national debut. Michael's read on his opposition comes down to an issue of tolerance.
"You see, the big difference between my side of the political fence and the Republican side of the political fence is they believe that, if they don't like something, they don't want you to see it. Our side, we believe if we don't like something, we just don't go see it. That's the big difference," Moore said.
He hopes his searing film will energize people, especially young adults, and they'll vote in November. Moore said the R rating was not merited and 16-year-olds who may soon be asked to fight and die in Iraq should be able to see on the screen what's really happening there.
The White House is in a frenzy, trying to discredit the film, but it's not working. It's not the words Moore speaks and the information he imparts that are most disturbing. It's the close-up shots of George W. that give me the creeps.
On the night he launched the war against Iraq, he's making silly google eyes at the camera moments before making the announcement. When he gets word of the terrorist attacks, he looks totally befuddled, dazed, staring into space. The nonverbal images send a powerful, disturbing message.
White House Communications Chief Dan Bartlett said the film was "outrageously false" after it received the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival, and last Friday he was on the morning TV show circuit denouncing the film as "filled with lies."
Moore responded, "Typical White House response. Say the film is full of lies but you haven't seen it. I mean, just how stupid are these people. This is embarrassing. This is a good county and the people leading our country should be the smartest -- the best and the brightest. Thank him for his review, I guess, is what I should do, and send him a Christmas card."
Bartlett admits he hasn't seen the film and won't.
We talked about Michael's first venture in film, "Roger and Me," a project I helped with in a small way, gathering video used in the production. I have a five-second cameo appearance. We reminisced about seeing each other his first day as a filmmaker at the 50th anniversary of the Flint sit-down strikes in 1987.
Michael's photographer that day, who actually shot most of "Roger and Me," was Kevin Rafferty. He was showing Michael the workings of the camera and explaining what he was doing. Ironically, Kevin is George W. Bush's first cousin, a fact Michael was unaware of at the time.
"If it weren't for the Bush family," Michael said with a grin, "I wouldn't be a filmmaker and I have a lot of gratitude."
I doubt Kevin Rafferty will be getting an invitation from cousin George to join them for Christmas dinner at the White House. Michael Moore would love to have him.
| Niagara Falls Reporter | www.niagarafallsreporter.com | June 29 2004 |