George Bush’S Great America [EN]: Chapter 15

< Part 14 >

Has everyone felt a sense of suffocation at least once in their life? It gradually intensifies, starting to constrict. The closest feeling is that of crushing a completely empty plastic bottle.

If that’s too abstract, let’s rephrase it. It’s a direct pressure, as if a hand is pressing on your chest. When your breathing becomes erratic and dizziness shakes your brain, congratulations! You’ve earned the rare opportunity to see your breakfast again!

Just as you’re thinking, ‘Oh, this feeling is so familiar,’ you’ve already collapsed.

Myocardial infarction [heart attack].

That was the name of the damn chronic disease that had been with Dick since his hair started falling out. In his younger days, he had confidently committed all sorts of eccentricities, assuring himself that his body would never betray him, but what came back was the heart’s fierce protest.

“The Vice President has collapsed!”

I didn’t collapse, no. It’s not time to collapse yet. I’m not someone who will crumble like this. Dick clutched at his heart repeatedly. He couldn’t show such an unsightly 모습 [Korean for “appearance” or “figure”]. Power moves away from the weak and towards the strong.

“Quick, call an ambulance.”

Dick wanted to shout, but his heart was mocking him. It was breaking down, refusing to contract and relax properly, saying that since he had treated it so harshly, it was time to cash in his retirement pay.

He could forcibly negotiate with its strike a few times with medicine and emergency measures, but the job of the heart wasn’t one that could consider on-site welfare. It was a terrible company that only gave food and had to be run 24 hours a day from birth to death, so what compassion was there?

How dare a mere heart stand in the way of Richard Bruce Cheney?

You tiny little bastard. You think I’ll let you have your way?

“Heart surgery is always a high-risk procedure. Moreover, considering his age, no one really knows what will happen.”

The deep wrinkles beside the doctor’s eyes were evidence that he was nearing retirement age, but also proof that his skills had reached a state of perfection. Therefore, there would be no falsehood in what he said.

But no way!

“Find me a new heart. Immediately.”

* * *

Well, it’s all over. Rumsfeld’s political life was suddenly approaching its end. Rumsfeld was never a moron, even if he was somewhat radical. Rather, his mental acuity, often called ‘street smarts,’ was among the sharpest in the United States. Therefore, he knew better than anyone that he was truly at the edge of a cliff, and he was also well aware that there was no way out.

However, didn’t someone say that instinct and reason are mixed but not aligned? Similarly, Rumsfeld’s reason and instinct did not coincide. In particular, reason was losing its clear outlines of youth day by day, while instinct greedily filled the void of reason.

In fact, it wasn’t that patriotism suddenly sprang up in his later years. Tracing its origins, one had to go back to his days as a kid wearing a Boy Scout uniform.

Eagle Scout. Boy Scouts of America! Ah, how much he loved that cheap medal! Certainly, until some point in his boyhood, he would keep it by his bedside before going to bed and fondle it for a long time.

His father was a proud United States Navy officer, and Rumsfeld? Of course, he followed his father into the United States Navy. But in the end, what he was piloting wasn’t a ship but a steel bird on land, so what Rumsfeld was doing was no different from what the Air Force was doing. So, if only his son would go to the Army, the completion of the Navy, Army, and Air Force would be complete! In those days, the concept of the Space Force didn’t exist yet, so that’s what he thought.

Perhaps it was at that point that the idea of the United States began to surge within him. In fact, this is a cheap novel-like story that can be found anywhere. A story about a promising young man overflowing with patriotism despairing at the dirty reality was too easy a subject to write about.

If that were the case, Donald Henry Rumsfeld’s story would have ended there. However, Rumsfeld tasted the catharsis and convenience of power that came from the hierarchical relationship established in the military, and although he didn’t get a degree at university, he learned enough about law to be more knowledgeable about politics than other comrades. Eventually, Rumsfeld, who began to enjoy political maneuvering in earnest….

Tada! Became the youngest Secretary of Defense!

It was 1975. A 43-year-old Secretary of Defense, USA! USA! God Bless America! Can you believe it? Secretary of Defense. Secretary of Defense!

Before that, he had been a member of the House of Representatives from Illinois for four terms.

Originally, people’s lives, no matter how winding, are not interesting without a decisive event.

In fact, before becoming Secretary of Defense, there was quite a bit of friction with Kissinger, who was then the National Security Advisor. Thanks to that, in 1973, Rumsfeld had to be forcibly transferred to the NATO embassy as a permanent ambassador, which was the most humiliating thing in his life.

He sharpened his sword. He sharpened the sword of revenge in a foreign land.

Of course, the Watergate scandal broke out in the Nixon administration, so he quit after only a year!

Thanks to that, he was able to become the White House Chief of Staff and then Secretary of Defense. Ah, this could be said to be the time when his power reached its peak.

Kissinger faded from the political arena, and the future looked bright. In 1977, he received a new medal. Can you see it? This brilliant ‘Presidential Medal of Freedom’! A radiance that cannot be compared to the Eagle Scout medal!

Ah, get over it. Middle-aged Rumsfeld had become too worldly for such a medal to raise his patriotism.

Boring? Don’t worry. It’s already over anyway. To be exact, Rumsfeld’s political life was over.

Jimmy Carter. The moment that man’s party, the Democratic Party, came to power, Republican talents went poof! All gone.

Since then, it seemed like he had done everything he could do in the political arena. White House Chief of Staff, Special Envoy for Diplomatic Treaties, Advisory Committee, Economic Committee, Trade Committee, Organization Evaluation Committee. …Looking back, it seems like he only did committees, but it’s just a feeling.

At this point, it’s a story of the distant future, but in 1989, he was able to retire as a Rear Admiral in the Reserve. It’s strange. He only flew fighter planes day and night, but he’s a Rear Admiral.

And. It’s now.

“Damn it.”

It was only when he got old that he realized what the country was. Power above the law? What good is all that? As Tolstoy said, the last place to return to is a 6-foot grave. And that grave was on American soil.

Turning around and looking at the exhibition hall where the medals were hung, the most shining one was the Eagle Scout. People say that people change after experiencing a big event, but bullshit. People change, but their essence does not change. Power and patriotism are not proportional. Just do both!

“Damn it!”

But why are there so many morons who don’t know this! Distorted patriotism? Get over it! That’s also patriotism! There are so many morons who don’t know how much Rumsfeld’s actions were for the country!

“Rumsfeld.”

The era of high oil prices that will strangle the United States in the future! The world hegemony that he has finally grasped! Rumsfeld’s plan was a strategic insight that could perfectly solidify America’s hegemony for at least the next hundred years!

“Rumsfeld!”

The people who don’t know that-.

“Come out.”

At someone’s shout, Rumsfeld stopped the hand he was diligently playing with and collected his notebook. It contained the biography that fervently defended him.

“…Mr. President.”

He was half-intentionally ignoring the words, thinking it was the CIA, but the one who appeared was none other than George W. Bush, the legitimate President of the United States. Finally, a sound other than ‘I don’t know anything!’ came out of Rumsfeld’s mouth, who had been repeating it like a broken record.

“Rumsfeld. I am very disappointed in you.”

Disappointed? He’s so disappointed! Why don’t you know! Rumsfeld screamed inwardly.

“Mr. President. Everything was for the United States.”

“Good. Explain it to me.”

“In the future, an era of ultra-high oil prices beyond the era of high oil prices will come. The oil depletion that has been used so often as a staple material in apocalypse movies will come to this United States at least.”

The oil reserves in Alaska are decreasing day by day, and the production volume from the oil refining facilities in the southern United States is also gradually declining from a future-oriented perspective. But the population is soaring without end. The number of consumers and potential customers, Americans, is increasing, but the supply shows at a glance that the United States will soon perish.

“I am not underestimating the potential of the United States, but an era has come when the United States alone cannot handle it. Securing the Middle East will allow the United States to save astronomical amounts of money at least until it secures alternative energy.”

Alternative energy? What are you going to use? Solar power generation? Photovoltaic power generation? Wind power generation? Tidal power, hydropower, geothermal power, renewable energy?

What energy can support this huge United States? Don’t talk about nuclear power. I saw its end in Chernobyl [site of a major nuclear disaster].

Nuclear fusion? Are you talking about it after seeing a clue?

What alternative energy are you talking about when you even withdrew from the Kyoto Protocol [an international treaty aimed at reducing greenhouse gas emissions]? Americans are already addicted to the convenience that oil brings!

A continent blessed by God. North America. But Americans were already coveting more than the area God had allowed. The mercy shown by God was finally running out. When Americans realize that something is wrong and are scraping the bottom of the black blessing-filled drum, they will admit that Rumsfeld was right.

The same was true of George W. Bush in front of him. Admit it. Admit this ‘patriotism’!

“High oil prices?”

Admit it!

“Oil.”

However, the words that flowed from his mouth were completely different from the answer Rumsfeld hoped for.

“Then let me tell you for sure. That’s a useless worry.”

“What?”

“I saw the future in the shale layer.”

“Shale?”

Shale? Shale? What is this guy talking about?

“There are enormous amounts of gas and oil buried in the shale layer.”

“I don’t remember hearing about it from the Department of Energy.”

“It’s just not getting attention right now.”

Rumsfeld looked at Bush’s expression. The expression looked so pitiful that it aroused sympathy in the viewer. The problem was that the object of that sympathy was Rumsfeld himself.

“Shale?”

If that word is really true, the United States can move forward on its own without occupying the Middle East. But, then. Then! What happens to Rumsfeld?

“That’s, well, that is.”

So. That word. Is patriotism now. Has it become treason?

No! That can’t be! It’s definitely a lie! It’s a bluff that is often used in psychological warfare!

Do you think I’ll let a kid with nothing but a kind heart ruin this country!

“That’s hard to believe, Mr. President.”

“In a few years, the world will take note of us.”

They will pay attention to the empire that has fallen into the shortest-term world hegemony! It will be recorded in history books as a shameful moment of glory, and eventually, they will admit that Bush was wrong and Rumsfeld was right.

But I don’t want that at all! It’s okay to be a villain. I didn’t care if I was branded as the worst son of a bitch! About 23 years away from power. I’ve worked as a diplomatic envoy and lectured at universities, but in the end, what comes back is the emptiness that the vacuum of power brings. But the time at home gradually filled that void.

It was honor. His honor lived in the medal exhibition hall made of glass and steel. He had enough wealth. He had enough power. But what about honor?

He might be recorded in history books as a pretty good person. But that was not true honor.

Rumsfeld wanted true honor. He wanted to put himself in the same ranks as George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, and others. He wanted Rumsfeld’s name to be known to all Americans, to be remembered forever. Beyond that, he wanted to remain a figure who dominated a century.

So, how should I act now?

“Mr. President. What do you want?”

One step back, two steps forward. This was the escape route Rumsfeld chose.

“Resign. Quietly.”

“I will.”

If America wants it, I will lick its boots a few times and for a few years.

* * *

“Wow, it’s all visible in his eyes.”

To be honest, it wasn’t like I could know what a person was thinking just by looking at them. But if their eyes were half-turned and the whites of their eyes were visible, and their skin was as red as a carrot, even someone who wasn’t perceptive would realize that the other person was enduring their anger with miraculous patience.

I don’t know what Rumsfeld is thinking, but there weren’t many things a person out of favor with power could do. At best, he would leak the information he knew to the enemy, but a man like the symbol of the neocons [neoconservatives] wouldn’t do that.

“What are you going to do about the successor?”

It was the Chief of Staff who was always my right-hand man and stayed by my side.

“Robert Gates. He’s probably the head of the department at Texas A&M right now. Find him and bring him to me.”

It’s time to change America in earnest.