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A Eulogy for Ronald Reagan

The gloves come off as this writer delivers an all-too-accurate eulogy for Ronald Reagan.
The Bottom Line Ronnie, we hardly knew ye.

Ronald Reagan is dead, and although I know it to be true, I still can't fully bring myself to accept it as fact. Much like a hostage kept in a dark basement for months blinks in disbelief when rescued, I am wary that I will awake from this dream and find he is still alive. His death has lifted a weight from my chest that has been there ever since that deceitful waterhead was first sworn in on a cold, stormy January day in 1981. It wasn't coincidence that his Presidency was marked by ugly skies and harsh weather - God certainly knew what was coming, and was trying to warn us with a grim preview of the eight years to come.

From his earliest days, his treacherous intentions were obvious. Reagan stuffed his cabinet and every available governmental post with reactionary figures that would have been better suited to the chamber of horrors of some dank European house of wax. His Presidency reeked with the fetid odor of revenge and retribution, and there was precious little room for people to hide from the jack-boots looking to crack the skulls of those who opposed the machine.

Of everything else he possessed, Reagan's biggest strength was his ability to charm. His mask of the affable dunce and self-depricating fathead was a ruse to lull opponents into a false sense of security. It was far too easy to dismiss him as an incompetent boob, too stupid to comprehend the obvious destruction he and his cadre of cannibalistic zombies were wreaking over the planet. The truth is, Reagan may have been dumb, but he wasn't stupid. He had an animal cunning about him that made him as dangerous as a cornered wolverine, and he had the cold, unsympathetic heart of an executioner that allowed him to cause unparalleled suffering and devastation without even the slightest twinge of conscience.

Despite the fawning accolades of his followers, Reagan's true legacy reads like an indictment of the sort of psychopathic criminal mastermind only found in the scripts of cheap Hollywood potboilers, and since Reagan was a product of the golden age of Hollywood, he saw his entire Presidency as nothing more than a cheap movie. He convinced himself that, much like the faceless extras sacrificed by the hundreds in countless movies about good versus evil, common people were an expendable commodity to be spent without thought in his personal game of global political poker. The murder of hundreds of thousands of innocent men, women, and children in Nicaragua, El Salvador and Honduras was of no concern to him, so long as his personally financed death squads were doing his bidding, overthrowing the legitimately elected (but not American approved) governments that dared defy the established status quo. His international policies and manipulations helped strengthen Manuel Noriega, Saddam Hussein, Ferdinand Marcos, and Jean-Claude "Baby Doc" Duvalier, and create Osama Bin Laden, and Abu Nidal, while his covert funding and arming of Contras and other so-called "Freedom Fighters" in Central America set the standard for murder and terror for groups like Al Qaeda, Black September, and Al Aqsa.

Reagan was a shining example epitomizing the worst aspects of the American persona: selfish, greedy, uncaring, brutal, savage, and dumb. He viewed the poor, mentally ill, and AIDS afflicted as irritating crybabies, selfishly demanding special treatment for shortcomings he believed were of their own creation. Even Marie Antoinette would have blushed at the callous and heartless way he reacted to the poor and downtrodden, even though it was his policies that landed on them like Thor's hammer crushing the skull of a lamb. He self-righteously blamed his victims for getting in the way, and though he proclaimed himself a true Christian, he offered no comfort or aid to the ailing, only scorn and disregard. His contempt for regular people was limitless, yet his ability to shuck and jive in front of cameras, and to tap into his reservoir of charm and personality allowed him to consistently bend the population over and sodomize it while they applauded.

Being less a man than his image suggested, and hiding reality behind a curtain of lies, Reagan was the perfect President for the video age, and it is only fitting that he was in power in 1984. He used television like a master, wielding it like a Hawai'ian war club studded with shark teeth. He could look the nation straight in the eye and lie about such outlandish and obviously incorrect things as proclaiming that "there is no word for 'Freedom' in Russian" (it is svoboda by the way), or stand there with his slack-jawed grin and give praise and support for Apartheid South Africa. He played the role of a happy grandfather, somewhat dim and forgetful, but always with a pleasant smile and a twinkle in the eye. But this ghostly apparition was a living myth, a Golem, created from inanimate matter and designed to blind us from the truth. Like Orwell's Big Brother, this image that benevolently beamed at us nightly from our televisions was there to ensure our obedience, and to divert prying eyes from the naked facts of the depravity and duplicity within his White House.

The fašade of the village idiot hid the ugly truth that our President was a cheap thug, not above stealing pennies from a blind beggar, or molesting infants. The degree of mendacity and the complete lack of even the tiniest amount of morality or decency in the man was stunning. The same Ronald Reagan, now canonized and hailed as the greatest American hero in centuries, oversaw a plot to run guns to the Iranians, launder the illegally obtained funds, and then funnel that money to the bloodstained hands of Contra death squads, all the while using the US Constitution as toilet paper, in a hustle that even the Cosa Nostra would be ashamed of.

Reagan didn't deserve to be admired, or respected. He deserved to be staked down and repeatedly kicked in the nuts. His body should be wrapped in a biohazard container, incinerated, and the ashes buried under 300 feet of concrete, for fear that the essence of malevolance and corruption that resided in him might contaminate someone else. He was the stuff of nightmares, a zombie-boogeyman hybrid that spread fear, death and despair wherever he went. He was a cold, heartless, rotten-to-the-core mongrel that betrayed our trust and cheapened both the office of President and the country. Ronald Reagan, that greedy, pathetic, semi-literate, malicious old bastard, is dead, and I still can't believe it.

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