Mourning in America?
Greg Palast, www.gregpalast.com: Ronald Reagan was a
conman. Reagan was a coward. Reagan was a killer...
And when Hezbollah terrorists struck and murdered hundreds of American marines in their sleep in Lebanon, the TV warrior ran away like a whipped dog …
then turned around and invaded Grenada. That little
Club Med war was a murderous PR stunt so Ronnie could
hold parades for gunning down Cubans building an
airport...
The New York Times today, in its canned obit, wrote
that Reagan projected, "faith in small town America"
and "old-time values." "Values" my ass. It was union
busting and a declaration of war on the poor and
anyone who couldn't buy designer dresses. It was the
New Meanness, bringing starvation back to America so
that every millionaire could get another million.
Break the Bush Cabal Stranglehold on the "US
Mainstream News Media," Show Up for Democracy in 2004:
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http://www.gregpalast.com/detail.cfm?artid=336&row=0
KILLER, COWARD, CON-MAN: GOOD RIDDANCE, GIPPER ...
MORE PROOF ONLY THE GOOD DIE YOUNG
Sunday, June 6, 2004
by Greg Palast
You're not going to like this. You shouldn't speak ill
of the dead. But in this case, someone's got to.
Ronald Reagan was a conman. Reagan was a coward.
Reagan was a killer.
In 1987, I found myself stuck in a crappy little town
in Nicaragua named Chaguitillo. The people were kind
enough, though hungry, except for one surly young man.
His wife had just died of tuberculosis.
People don't die of TB if they get some antibiotics.
But Ronald Reagan, big hearted guy that he was, had
put a lock-down embargo on medicine to Nicaragua
because he didn't like the government that the people
there had elected.
Ronnie grinned and cracked jokes while the young
woman's lungs filled up and she stopped breathing.
Reagan flashed that B-movie grin while they buried the
mother of three.
And when Hezbollah terrorists struck and murdered
hundreds of American marines in their sleep in
Lebanon, the TV warrior ran away like a whipped dog …
then turned around and invaded Grenada. That little
Club Med war was a murderous PR stunt so Ronnie could
hold parades for gunning down Cubans building an
airport.
I remember Nancy, a skull and crossbones prancing
around in designer dresses, some of the "gifts" that
flowed to the Reagans -- from hats to million-dollar
homes -- from cronies well compensated with government
loot. It used to be called bribery.
And all the while, Grandpa grinned, the grandfather
who bleated on about "family values" but didn't bother
to see his own grandchildren.
The New York Times today, in its canned obit, wrote
that Reagan projected, "faith in small town America"
and "old-time values." "Values" my ass. It was union
busting and a declaration of war on the poor and
anyone who couldn't buy designer dresses. It was the
New Meanness, bringing starvation back to America so
that every millionaire could get another million.
"Small town" values? From the movie star of the
Pacific Palisades, the Malibu mogul? I want to throw
up.
And all the while, in the White House basement, as his
brain boiled away, his last conscious act was to
condone a coup d'etat against our elected Congress.
Reagan's Defense Secretary Casper the Ghost Weinberger
with the crazed Colonel, Ollie North, plotted to give
guns to the Monster of the Mideast, Ayatolla Khomeini.
Reagan's boys called Jimmy Carter a weanie and a wuss
although Carter wouldn't give an inch to the Ayatolla.
Reagan, with that film-fantasy tough-guy con in front
of cameras, went begging like a coward cockroach to
Khomeini pleading on bended knee for the release of
our hostages.
Ollie North flew into Iran with a birthday cake for
the maniac mullah -- no kidding --in the shape of a
key. The key to Ronnie's heart.
Then the Reagan roaches mixed their cowardice with
crime: taking cash from the hostage-takers to buy guns
for the "contras" - the drug-runners of Nicaragua
posing as freedom fighters.
I remember as a student in Berkeley the words
screeching out of the bullhorn, "The Governor of the
State of California, Ronald Reagan, hereby orders this
demonstration to disperse" … and then came the teargas
and the truncheons. And all the while, that
fang-hiding grin from the Gipper.
In Chaguitillo, all night long, the farmers stayed
awake to guard their kids from attack from Reagan's
Contra terrorists. The farmers weren't even
Sandinistas, those 'Commies' that our cracked-brained
President told us were 'only a 48-hour drive from
Texas.' What the hell would they want with Texas,
anyway?
Nevertheless, the farmers, and their families, were
Ronnie's targets.
In the deserted darkness of Chaguitillo, a TV blared.
Weirdly, it was that third-rate gangster movie,
"Brother Rat." Starring Ronald Reagan.
Well, my friends, you can rest easier tonight: the Rat
is dead.
Killer, coward, conman. Ronald Reagan, good-bye and
good riddance.
Greg Palast is author of the New York Times
bestseller, The Best Democracy Money Can Buy.
www.GregPalast.com
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