Following up on pseudocyant's post which was pretty specific to Guantanamo and vengeance, I'm going to suggest that however we resolve our significant national problems moving forward, we should do it in ways that proudly repudiate pretty much everything Dick Cheney ever said or did.

Go ahead. Cast off your Cheneys.

Cross "screw the other guy before he screws you" off your to-do list. Replace it with "work toward an economy that rewards fairness and compassion at least as much as it rewards vicious, winner-take-all competition." Ignore the sound of Cheney muttering and gnashing his teeth. Shut up, Dick.

It will take some practice to cast off the Cheneys that have held us fast for so long. A couple of nights ago I was at dinner with a wealthy, successful guy who said he really believed that votes ought to be portioned out according to the amount of taxes people pay. Even though it's rude to contradict the guy buying dinner, this un-American and ridiculous idea should have earned a stern response from me. But my Cheney clamped my jaw shut, and I settled for a wan remark about being pretty committed to the one-person-one-vote system. I guess maybe I've been Cheneyed--or Dicked, if you prefer, to the point where I just can't find the words, or the thoughts, exactly, to respond to people who believe success means never having to live with the consequences of what they say. It's like having to watch A Christmas Carol with no ghosts and Cheney playing Scrooge. 

But as this holiday season rolls inexorably forward toward what promises to be one of the most timid Christmases in our collective memory, there's a story I can't get out of my mind. It's the story of the poor bastard who took the temporary job at Wal-Mart and got trampled to death for his troubles. OK, technically he died of a heart attack, but if you need to get technical about it, I might suggest you are being a Dick. Cheney, that is.

There is so much in this story that demonstrates how low our Cheneys have cast us. Temporary. Employee. Wal-Mart. Black Friday. Human chain formed (apparently with a stunning level of incompetence and lack of regard for human life) to hold back a populace anxious, angry, frightened and confused to such a level of obnoxiousness that it went berzerk--so crazy in fact that when shoppers were asked to leave the store after Wal-Mart guy's tragic death, they refused to go without their doorbuster deals in hand. Behold, my friends, Dickvegas, a place that Cheney happily helped create but would make sure he was rich enough never to have to patronize.

One of the profound things about the story of Jesus is that human beings embody the traits of both Jesus and the people who murdered him. In this sense, we are all Wal-Mart guy now, or could be, and even if only out of--Cheney-approved--self-preservation, we should take a serious look at Dickvegas. (I don't shop at Wal-Mart myself, and probably neither do you, but please work with me here.) By extension, we are also the Cheney-ized rabble who bravely stepped forward to shop where few shoppers have shopped before--next to the body of a dead man.

My new year's resolution is going to be that the America I live in after New Year's Day doesn't have to be Disneyland, but it's sure as heck not going to be Dickvegas. This won't be easy--Dickishness, it seems, is everywhere, even in ourselves. But it seems worth trying to cast away the meanness of the Cheney "reality" in favor of one that invites the participation of our better selves. And anyway, now that we can't afford the distraction of shopping, what else do we have to do but look inside and outside ourselves, and get to work?