Watching two-timing U.S. Secretary of Defense Don Rumsfeld do the book rounds is painful. It’s also funny, in a Portlandia kind of way. 

For those of you who haven’t had a chance to watch Portlandia, it is a satirical comedy about knowns and unknowns of Portland, Oregon, delivered in a deadpan style by characters with a guffaw-inducing lack of self-awareness.  

Rumsfeld these days – a man who very likely met the criteria of both criminal and war criminal long before his second stint at the Pentagon – brings to mind nothing more than a brutal and blood-thirsty version of Portlandia. The world in which Rumsfeld operates is one of his own creating, a fantastical place where he poses, ever so sincerely, and weaves tales that defy the widely recorded facts. Ironically, Rumsfeldia also defies the down-home, common-sense wisdom with which Rumsfeld self-associates at every turn. There is a way that empires make their wars against weak yet desirable states, and the way always includes egotistical can-do’ers and yes-men, carefully framed and made-up “intelligence” and a story about “why the [easy, quick, short-term and safe] war is necessary for the continuation of life as we know it” for the bread-eating and circus-attending public.

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