Copyright pravda
Nancy O'Brien Simpson Dick Cheney is dead — finally gone from all halls of power — and already the whisper campaign begins: the historians, the talking heads, the opportunists trying to whitewash a legacy built on deceit and cruelty. “A great vice president,” they say. “A stabilizing force.” “A patriot.” But patriotism is not measured in bombed cities, stolen lives, and profit margins padded by war. Stability is not achieved by terrorizing the world in the name of national interest. Cheney’s legacy is not one of wisdom or honor; it is a blueprint for moral corruption. He didn’t merely serve; he reprogrammed the machinery of government. War became a business model, torture became euphemism, truth became negotiable. Invasion was “liberation.” Civilian deaths were “collateral damage.” Every decision was calculated to benefit power and profit, every lie sharpened to cut the public’s perception in two: fear on one side, obedience on the other. Even now, the world he shaped continues to move as he designed. Fox News, MSNBC, CNN, The New York Times, The Washington Post — all are his heirs in spirit, if not by name. Journalism is dead; all that remains are propaganda arms. Each network spins its version of reality, feeding audiences curated outrage while the powerful remain untouched. Citizens shout at each other over narratives crafted in boardrooms; the empire ticks forward, unfazed. Cheney’s disciples walk among us, thriving in the theater he built. Trump bombs ships in international waters. Biden signs blank checks for endless war. The media frames each act as necessity, each atrocity as defense. War is normalized, cruelty is excused, and the profits continue to flow. Those who claim Cheney was a “patriot” or a “stabilizer” are either blind to history or complicit in its erasure. He didn’t just teach lying; he made it strategy. He didn’t just profit from war; he institutionalized it. He didn’t just leave a political legacy; he left a moral vacuum. And while some try to rewrite history as if he were a man of honor, the truth is inescapable: the machinery he built hums still. The empire he fortified continues to operate under his principles, and the public — conditioned, distracted, numbed — barely notices. Dick Cheney is dead, yes. But the ghost he leaves behind is everywhere: in policy, in the media, in the erosion of conscience, in the normalization of violence, in the whispers that claim he was “good for the country.” He is gone, but we are still living in his world — a world he poisoned, perfected, and refuses to leave behind. And so, Cheney’s shadow stretches across every headline, every missile, every silence when the world burns. It lingers in the hum of profiteers counting bills over bodies, in the filtered outrage of a distracted populace, in the hushed conversations that excuse his crimes. He is gone, yes, but the rot he sowed will outlast his obituary. History may one day bury his name, but the consequences of his life — the wars, the lies, the moral decay — will outlive us all. Cheney is dead. The nightmare he perfected is not.
