Did you notice how Cheney kept rubbing his hands together, like he was washing them thoroughly, over and over again? Did you notice how Edwards kept drinking out of that blue cup that you know -- after about the seventh sip -- didn't have a damned thing in it. And, then, after each sip, Edward's tongue would slither out and in real quick.
Cheney seemed to be the Simon Legree character; the evil overseer whose fantasy it is to really tie somebody to the railroad tracks and see what happens when the 10:20 to Boston runs over them. That constant wringing of his hands just seemed to communicate that he's made so many dirty deals in his life that he can't help himself from trying to expunge -- wash away -- the obnoxious stink of those deals by, yes, wringing together those old, wrinkled hands ... over and over and over again.
But, let's be fair: Cheney is so much smarter than Dumbya; has so much more experience than Dumbya (and Edwards!) that I really don't dislike the guy that much. He's smart. He's experienced. But, then, he's a fucking liar, too. Whaddaya gonna do!
Edwards' effort was commendable. He did well. At least well enough for me to believe that the debate was a standoff. Nobody won. Which, come to think of it, is saying a lot for Edwards given Cheney's background and experience.
But, YIKES!, Edwards tongue flicking in and out and some of his expressions were freaky; evoking the skin on the back of my neck to crawl a few inches upward.
The big guys are on again tonight. It will be interesting to see how Karl Rove has propped up the little guy, Dumbya, to project a better image; one that isn't so stupid; one that isn't so lame.
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