Posted on 02/18/2006 9:16:15 AM PST by indcons
It seems more like a dream a vice president might have than something that might actually befall one. It might also inspire a great fairy tale someday. I imagine it being recited to the children of a magical, peaceful world to come — a utopia of enduring gentleness that accounts for its origins with the following fable:
"And so, after decades at the heights of power helping to mount and administer great battles that caused many thousands of deaths and injuries, the aging leader set out one afternoon into the fields of his beloved homeland in pursuit of a bird that meant no harm to him and which showed him at last — unintentionally, in a twinkling, and in a way that forever changed his heart and, over time, the hearts of all our leaders — what it was actually like to shoot a man."
It's no wonder we're spellbound by Dick Cheney's hunting accident despite the fact that no one died and the responsible party apologized (though not, perhaps, as promptly as he might have). It may be a small story in an age of big ones — an odd minor scene in history's bloody pageant — but if you let it sink down inside your mind and resonate there for just a little while, you have to confess that it’s potent, mythic stuff.
But maybe you're too annoyed by the reporting. I know I've been. For a westerner who likes to hunt and knows about the pastime's risks (I almost shot a friend once while stalking mule deer), watching the Washington press corps cover a story that hinges on a chaotic Texas quail shoot is like watching Prince Charles attempt a native dance. Because they're so good at doing so many other things, the talking heads think they're good at this thing too, even though many of them don't know the difference between a twenty-eight gauge shotgun and an any-caliber rifle. The chief difference, of course (and the relevant one here) is that a shotgun of this modest size barely constitutes a serious weapon when loaded with birdshot of the type that Cheney used. Its hard enough for such pellets to pierce a quail's heart, let alone penetrate a man's, and the fact that one did so is a testament not to Cheney's gross negligence (that question still needs more exploring)but to his supreme unluckiness.
What's made this awkward reporting not merely annoying but socially and politically divisive is that it insults the intelligence of some people who already feel insulted in other ways by the very same class of urban journalists. Outside of DC, LA and NYC, the only time folks get to meet a correspondent from a major television network or a writer from a leading newspaper is when a storm has just destroyed their neighborhood. And when the big shots do vist the outland, they always dress wrong, covered in either condescending denim or some haughty blend of wool and silk. Then they call the tornado that struck the place a "cyclone," even though the place is Minnesota and Minnesotans don't use that word.
For me and for lots of westerners I've spoken to, the greatest failure of the accident coverage has been its inability to convey, let alone fathom in the first place, just what goes on when people are chasing birds out in the middle of nowhere, in the brush, with dogs and other hunters on every side and adrenaline pumping through everybody's veins. It's a jittery, fluid situation. The coveys erupt without warning and they don't fly straight, meaning hunters don't only have to be prepared to raise their barrels at any instant, they need an awareness of the potential arcs through which they can safely swing them before they fire. Or hold their fire, as the case may be.
In the field, there are hundreds of cases that may be — and a wide range of penalties for misjudging one, from the social embarrassment of missing a bird (quail hunting has an aristocratic tone that fosters a lot of ribbing about poor marksmanship) to the mortal anguish of hitting a human being. The sport is dangerous, which heightens its thrill, but it's a civilized level of danger that's usually manageable through good equipment, experienced companions, and traditional codes of conduct. The emotions behind these codes are old and fixed: pride and shame. Like a mountain climbing expedition, a hunting trip is an excuse-free zone. Once a person picks up his gun, he is that gun. And whatever that gun causes.
It's like war, I've suggested, but it's also unlike war, mostly because the quarry poses no threat. In a time of actual war — and when one of the hunters helps to run that war — the playfulness of the sport may seem distasteful. To shoot at feathered things while obliging other folks to shoot at much larger creatures that shoot back doesn't seem right somehow, or wise. At some poetic level it tempts the gods, and the gods are always armed. For Cheney, that's the painful, humbling part. For the public, it's the engrossing, mythic part. The press may be mauling the story and prolonging it, but the accident's strange allegorical allure is beyond its power to affect.
To put things in perspective, this is the one of the few articles in the MSM that take the media to task.
Harry Whittington said it best in his gracious news conference esterday. In the words of Shakespeare, much ado about nothing.
His heart wasn't directly hit in the shooting. One of the pellets got into a blood vessel and was carried to his heart that way.
Thankfully no lives were lost.
It's not a political event to be exploited.
Real Americans know that!
The epitome of navel gazing...
thanks
Yeah - but did he get the bird ?
I'm afraid the author went a bit over the top in relating the cosmic irony of persons who send men and women into battle hunting unarmed birds - this is, after all, the sort of thing that he's just complained about with respect to the city boys. Quail hunting is not really comparable to warfare and anyone who's ever done both knows it.
There is, in addition, one thing that as a media figure himself he hasn't seemed to grasp yet:
It's no wonder we're spellbound by Dick Cheney's hunting accident...
We aren't.
Well, I just went back and read the entire piece, my opinion of it remains unchanged. He makes some good points about media condescension and completely undermines them by his own arrogance. Typical for Time Magazine. If it was ever good it was long before my time, I'm 48 and have had the misfortune to have been reading this rag since I was 10 years old.
Excellent points......I concur.
Raymond
The old Fokkers don't even know that they are being prodded for our agenda, IMHO.
I didn't think your initial comment was off-base, but some of the others on this thread look a whole like knee-jerk reactions.
Actually, your heart is in the center of your chest, leaning a bit to the left.
5 of 10 would be my guess.
This story is really sputtering if that's the best they can come up with at this point.
It's obvious they will just keep recycling Thursday's stories to make this a Sunday talk show. topic.
I can only speak with surety about myself: 0 of 1.
How ironic. It is pieces like this, that attempt to cleverly juxtapose a hunting accident and leading a war, that are both awkward and intelligence insulting.
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.