Ronald Reagan. Cap Weinberger. And now, Gerald H. Ford. It's like Christmas for Progressives. Yet judging by the way the so-called "mainstream media" is lavishing praise and adulation upon the man they once dubbed an “affable dunce”, a “stumbling boob”, and “the Godfather of Soul”, you’d think we should all be wallowing in despair that the man who pardoned Nixon finally got what was coming to him.
Yes, I’ll admit that even with my barely concealed glee over the death of another ReTHUGniKKAN warmonger, as well as my with my narcissistic inability to say anything genuinely nice about anybody who doesn’t share my political views, I’m tempted to begrudgingly concede that at least he wasn’t Bush and show a little reverence for the man. But to take the high road now would betray everything I stand for. The reason BlameBush! continually rises above other progessive blogs is that I am never afraid to speak the truth as ugly and fabricated as it may seem.
Ford was indeed Bushlike - perhaps even more so than Bush himself. Let the hate mail fly, but you cannot deny the similarities. The most blaringly obvious is that neither Ford nor Bush were ever elected; both exploiting an obscure Constitutional loophole to steal their way into office. Both were quick to send our tots off to fight overseas, yet neither possessed the courage to put on a uniform and badmouth the nation in a time of war. Perhaps on the advice of their mutual puppetmaster, Dick Cheney, neither Ford nor Bush ever met with Cindy Sheehan, the greiving mother who lost her only son in Bush’s illegal and immoral war for oil. On environmental issues, Ford and Bush were practically identical, neither doing anything to prevent Hurricane Katrina nor lifting a finger to save any Black voters in the aftermath.
Most importantly, neither one of the fanatically religious peeResidents devoted a single penny of federal funds to AIDS research, the single standard by which all presidents are judged. Millions of gay Americans died painful and unflamboyant deaths while Ford putted around the golf course with his rich country club pals. Sadly, their bodies were never found. Perhaps they never will be – or maybe we’re just not looking in the right place. I’d suggest digging around the seventh green at Pebble Beach.
The most striking condemnation of Ford will probably become his own epitaph, yet it came not from a political adversary, but his beloved wife:
"His life was filled with love of God, his family and his country."
Indeed. But thankfully, the long national nightmare is over.