John McCain is dead. And if I was capable of abiding by the principle expressed by my title phrase, I’d stop right there.
But I can’t, and y’all know I can’t. Hell, it’s a big part of the reason why you’re here in the first place. I’ll try to keep it short and…well. Anyways.
The godawful excess of veneration and exaltation of this small, vain man by his fellow Deep Staters in both government and media this week has been nothing short of sickening. Guess his perennial brown-nosing of Proggies both Democrat and Republican finally did pay off in the end.
Keating Five. Gang Of Eight. Gang Of Fourteen. McCain-Feingold. These are but a few of the long, long list of supposedly bedrock-conservative “principles” McCain betrayed over the course of his odious career. His colleagues knew him as “prickly” and “acerbic”; his employees knew him as a nasty, tyrannical, egotistical prick. Now he’s someone who “will never be forgotten,” as I saw someone or other quoted as saying earlier today. Pretty slick way of saying he was a right bastard without actually saying it, seems to me.
But the most sickening aspect of this blanket beatification has to be the “war hero” bit, the man who “stood up” under unspeakably hideous torture with nothing but his courage and iron to sustain him, to keep him from breaking.
Bullshit. Arrant bullshit. I will grant, he did serve in wartime, if incompetently, self-indulgently, recklessly, and to the general detriment of his shipmates in ways both great and small. Lots of folks have been quick to point out that he should be honored for not running off to Canada instead, but I don’t know how likely that ever was as the son of an admiral and the scion of a long line of Navy men. Nevertheless, serve he did, so a grudging tip of the cap for that. The one other compliment I can sincerely bring myself to pay the man is that he himself was honest enough to explicitly admit (eventually, after initially denying it) that the animals of Hoa Lo prison did indeed break him, and he felt the sting of shame deeply over it:
Eventually, McCain made an anti-U.S. propaganda “confession”. He had always felt that his statement was dishonorable, but as he later wrote, “I had learned what we all learned over there: every man has his breaking point. I had reached mine.” Many U.S. POWs were tortured and maltreated in order to extract “confessions” and propaganda statements; virtually all of them eventually yielded something to their captors.
“Virtually”—but not quite all. Not hardly.
Fellow POW, Admiral James Stockdale, who was also held as a prisoner of war in the Hoa Lo prison and lead prisoner resistance, won the Medal of Honor for not allowing himself to be used in the manner McCain was. The citation for Stockdale’s Medal of Honor reads:
For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty while senior naval officer in the Prisoner of War camps of North Vietnam. Recognized by his captors as the leader in the Prisoners’ of War resistance to interrogation and in their refusal to participate in propaganda exploitation, Rear Adm. Stockdale was singled out for interrogation and attendant torture after he was detected in a covert communications attempt. Sensing the start of another purge, and aware that his earlier efforts at self-disfiguration to dissuade his captors from exploiting him for propaganda purposes had resulted in cruel and agonizing punishment, Rear Adm. Stockdale resolved to make himself a symbol of resistance regardless of personal sacrifice. He deliberately inflicted a near-mortal wound to his person in order to convince his captors of his willingness to give up his life rather than capitulate. He was subsequently discovered and revived by the North Vietnamese who, convinced of his indomitable spirit, abated in their employment of excessive harassment and torture toward all of the Prisoners of War. By his heroic action, at great peril to himself, he earned the everlasting gratitude of his fellow prisoners and of his country. Rear Adm. Stockdale’s valiant leadership and extraordinary courage in a hostile environment sustain and enhance the finest traditions of the U.S. Naval Service.
THAT’S what a real hero looks like. “Songbird” McCain? Umm…well…uhhhh…
When the communists learned that McCain’s father was Admiral John S. McCain, Jr., the soon-to-be commander of all U.S. Forces in the Pacific, he was rushed to Gai Lam military hospital (U.S. government documents), a medical facility normally unavailable for U.S. POWs.
The communist Vietnamese figured, because POW McCain’s father was of such high military rank, that he was of royalty or the governing circle. Thereafter the communists bragged that they had captured “the crown prince.”
For 23 combat missions (an estimated 20 hours over enemy territory), the U.S. Navy awarded McCain a Silver Star, a Legion of Merit for Valor, a Distinguished Flying Cross, three Bronze Stars, two Commendation medals plus two Purple Hearts and a dozen service medals.
“McCain had roughly 20 hours in combat,” explains Bill Bell, a veteran of Vietnam and former chief of the U.S. Office for POW/MIA Affairs — the first official U.S. representative in Vietnam since the 1973 fall of Saigon. “Since McCain got 28 medals,” Bell continues, “that equals out to about a medal-and-a-half for each hour he spent in combat. There were infantry guys — grunts on the ground — who had more than 7,000 hours in combat and I can tell you that there were times and situations where I’m sure a prison cell would have looked pretty good to them by comparison. The question really is how many guys got that number of medals for not being shot down.”
For years, McCain has been an unchecked master at manipulating an overly friendly and biased news media. The former POW turned Congressman, turned U.S. Senator, has managed to gloss over his failures as a pilot and collaborations with the enemy by exaggerating his military service and lying about his feats of heroism.
Be all that as it may, it’s his long, sordid history of duplicity, betrayal, and low skullduggery throughout his overlong Senate career that truly and eternally condemns him. Aesop says it better than I can:
We note today the news from multiple sources that, after a long and brave struggle, the brain cancer in his head will finally succeed in removing from office the man the torpid and disgraceful voters of Arizona would not for over three decades in office, Sen. John Sidney McCain III. We salute the brain cancer in this long, valiant, and hard-won effort, and thank it for belatedly doing what mere voting should have done for AZ and the nation at least two decades prior.
Were we there when his casket passed us by, we’d render the hand salute, crisply and with military precision, to honor the flag on his coffin, that sacrifice he gave, and the sort of man who could and did undertake such service to his then-ungrateful and indifferent country.
But we did not undertake this to praise him, but to bury him. (We beseech the fates, please, soon.) So one fine day, his well-filled caisson shall pass, and he’d be laid to rest, and should we have the opportunity, we doubt we’d forego the chance to leave something on his grave site afterwards. A deposit that would not pass for flowers, nor from our heart, but rather from somewhere a foot or two lower down, to betoken what he spent the last 32 years on this earth doing: undercutting and backstabbing his constituents, and crapping on the state of Arizona, his party, his military record, the fallen shipmates who never made it home, his multiple oaths of office, and his country itself, in becoming one of the most petty, vindictive, backstabbing and cruel little pricks ever to befoul the halls of the United States Senate. Which, given the competition, is really saying something.
Everyone will remember with clarity the spiteful remarks, the gratuitously antagonistic and pugnacious demeanor, the outright duplicity, the barely concealed rage, the disloyalty to people who served him and were discard like used Charmin – the former governor of Alaska comes to mind – once he could get nothing more from them. The dictionary entry for “misanthrope” should bear his photographic likeness, and were he to pick up a cat in the dark, we have no doubt he’d pet it the wrong way out of sheer force of habit. We doubt even dogs liked him. Humans, however, will remember too the half-hearted, half-assed, and half-witted bumble for the presidency, inflicting by force of his own lacking humanity and manifest unfitness for the office, the last disastrous regime upon America, such that it could not be dislodged until the 22nd Amendment came to the rescue, just in the nick of time.
And most of all, they will remember the snarl of undisguised contempt he wore perpetually, and the demeanor and personality that gave it to him, and preventing even the most kind-hearted person from ever regarding him with well-deserved pity, rather than the justly earned disgust he’s finally enjoyed. That he is the sort of man who would drag himself to cast the deciding vote to thwart the will of the vast majority of Americans in ending the disastrous experiment in full socialism that was ObamaCare, contrary to his party, president, and simple mathematics, amidst the ravages of brain cancer, really tells you more about the man than anything that two thousand days of beating and torture at the hands of inhuman communist bastards ever could. He’ll probably enter eternity still more proud of that petty, vindictive, and traitorous act than he will of any day he ever spent in uniform.
And any obituary, come the happy day, cannot but note that the latter more than dwarfs the former.
Some sort of scientific study should be done on just what in the hell is wrong with Arizona voters that they could vote to re-elect such a blight again and again, and follow up by sending a like-minded excrescence, Jeff Flake, to DC as his cohort. I’m guessing it’s something in the water, maybe.
McCain was the pluperfect example of absolutely everything wrong with Mordor On The Potomac and its despicable denizens—of the loathsome, twisted genotype colloquially known as “professional politicans.” His posthumous parting cheap-shot at Trump was petty, cowardly, and demeaning—to McCain, and no one else. It was the act of a true and irredeemable asshole, a jerk nonpareil; his forbidding Trump to attend his funeral likewise. Petty spite of such a low nature is John McCain’s proper legacy; may he be long remembered for it.
I mentioned last week the edifying coincidence of Aretha Franklin dying on the same day as Elvis; the same with Jefferson and Adams both dying on the 4th of July. But can it really be a coincidence that McCain joined the Choir Invisible on the same day as his kindred spirit and fellow predator-politician Ted Kennedy? Maybe the Almighty was giving us a strong hint as to where both of them will be spending eternity. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say.