In deep spaces of the dark side, there’s no daylight, ever.

Dying! Dying in the night!
Won’t somebody bring the light
So I can see which way to go
Into the everlasting snow?
— Emily Dickinson

The Dick apparently will not be denied and will not go peacefully into that ugly, ugly night.
Although looking frail and anemic, the former VP and “fuck yourself” specialist, made an appearance last Saturday in Bakersfield, California, to continue fantasizing about the past — right was right even if it was wrong.

He’s also reportedly writing a memoir of selected memories of how right he and George Jr. (along with a host of illegal others) were right in battling US enemies abroad and at home — which is which is the question.

(Illustration found here).

Cheney attended the 2010 Bakersfield Business Conference and remained seated during the entire event, holding on to a chair as he entered, waving and smiling at the friendly crowd.
He did look sick, but still retained that asshole, side-of-the-face, smug-like smile, which seemingly no amount of bad health will ever wipe away.
According to the LA Times, Cheney was onstage with his wife, Lynne, who’s conversation with him was supposed to be a kind of folksy, warm-hearted interlude with a famous, elder statesmen: “She’s been my nurse, my negotiator with the medical community,” her husband said, “and in return for all of that great help she’s given me, today I’ve agreed to let her interview me.”

One must not forget the reality of the past, however.
Five years ago, Lawrence Wilkerson, who served as chief of staff to secretary of state Colin Powell from 2002 to 2005, said The Dick is either crazy or a war criminal, or maybe both
From the Guardian:

Mr Cheney has been under fire for his role in assembling evidence of weapons of mass destruction. Mr Wilkerson told the Associated Press that the vice-president must have sincerely believed Iraq could be a spawning ground for terrorism because “otherwise I have to declare him a moron, an idiot or a nefarious bastard.”

Or all of the above.
Go quickly into that real-bad night, asshole.