It might have been an episode of 'Magnum, PI', I don't recall. What I do recall was the shot in the belly and the blood on the Hawaiian shirt.
G. Gordon Liddy was playing the role of a corrupted colonel who shipped drugs or something dastardly in Vietnam. He has managed to keep the story under wraps until a crusading journalist (who must have inspired Michael Moore) discovered the awful truth. This journalist war shorts and sandals, was scruffy as an old mutt and doggedly pursued every bit of muck he could rake on Liddy's character. He always suspected something but never really knew anything and so he manufactured alternate realities until he stumbled upon the real truth. He badgered witnesses who wouldn't fess up; he couldn't understand why the Vietnamese didn't want to let the world know.
In classic style, Liddy confronts the journalist and delivers the monologue before pulling the trigger. He says that he was once ideologically fanatic as the journalist was, but that living in Asia had taught him a lesson that Americans rarely learn. Westerners believe, quoth Liddy, that the truth will set you free. Au contraire (please translate that into Mandarin, ed), the truth is a great burden that serves no man. The truth only brings suffering and pain. Liddy then provided the lead exclamation point to that sentence at about 1200 feet per second into the abdomen of the newly enlightened journalist, who presumeably died wiser than he ever lived.
If you could prove that George W. Bush engineered the entire War on Terror and that Cindy Sheehan was actually a prophet sent by God, would you pick up a gun and spend your life coming up with a way to shoot him in the head? If not, then there's a lesson here for you, which is that you can live with lies. Think about what that means as you stare into your computer screen. Observe your fingernails. Are they dirty? How do they get dirty?
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