Oh, crap. I missed Nixon’s death day celebrations. About fourteen years ago, the mean little man from Yorba Linda went to his infernal reward, and made the world a better place. But he never paid for his crimes, and so neither will any American president, ever again.

Better make up for lost time with a reading from Hunter Thompson, written just after the corpse turned cold.

If the right people had been in charge of Nixon’s funeral, his casket would have been launched into one of those open-sewage canals that empty into the ocean just south of Los Angeles. He was a swine of a man and a jabbering dupe of a president. Nixon was so crooked that he needed servants to help him screw his pants on every morning. Even his funeral was illegal. He was queer in the deepest way. His body should have been burned in a trash bin.

The tragic American postscript to this eulogy is that Bush the Younger makes Nixon look good. History may excuse viciousness, dishonesty, and lack of conscience when combined with competence. Bush has none, and throws in ignorance and arrogance besides.