Junior and Big Dick had problems: Congress was threatening to subpoena high level White House aides, including Harriet Miers, Josh Bolten, and even Karl Rove! The American public was (finally) wising up to the administration's stinky practices after seeing Scooter Libby be convicted of perjury while protecting Big Dick's cadaverous ass in the Valerie Plame affair.
Well, not to fear, neo-cons! The newly-elected Democratic Congress' stones still hadn't "dropped," as the saying goes. Junior found himself someone he could trust to keep the lid on things in Michael Mukasey, who's nomination sailed right on through the Senate confirmation hearings with nary a peep from anybody, even though Mukasey couldn't say for sure whether or not water-boarding is torture.
Eventually, House Judiciary Committee Chairman John Conyers did pull the trigger on dragging White House aides in front of his committee. The White House aides refused to appear, and contempt citations soon followed.
Then came Mukasey's moment to shine. One after the other, as calls for investigations and/or prosecutions came forward, Mukasey shot them down like so many midway carnival ducks:
- No prosecutions in the Justice Department hiring scandal;
- No special prosecutor in the CIA coverup of evidence related to the potentially illegal interrogations of "terror suspects;"
- No investigations into the use of waterboarding as an interrogation technique;
- No investigations into whether Miers or Bolton should be prosecuted for Contempt of Congress;
- No grand jury to determine if Alberto Gonzales broke the law.
Residents of Washington, DC, can probably expect "brown outs" as the White House paper shredders go in to overdrive for the last three months of this criminal enterprise called the Bush administration. And Junior will undoubtedly level a dozen acres of rain forest with a flurry of presidential pardons on his way out the door.
Meanwhile, Michael Mukasey will faithfully shield all that scurrilous activity by sitting on his ass, and making sure that nothing happens. That's what they pay him for. Justice? Justice, be damned!
My question is this, though: what did they promise you, Mukasey? What gold-plated bauble? What ignominious, fraudulent honorarium?
What kind of a bone did they throw you, Mukasey?