The Wall Street Journal needs pageviews. "Rarely has a U.S. president been so wrong about so much at the expense of so many," Dick and Liz Cheney write of President Obama in an Op/Ed that is the paper's version of "The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire Explained Through Last Tango In Paris."

"Iraq is at risk of falling to a radical Islamic terror group and Mr. Obama is talking climate change. Terrorists take control of more territory and resources than ever before in history, and he goes golfing."

The article itself is ludicrous and not worth your time. If little knives are coursing through your blood right now, read Mark Danner's authoritative series on Cheney and his impact on the world.

Danner writes that "there was nothing fated about" post-9/11 America. "These revolutionary changes in our government’s policies toward holding prisoners, toward waging war, and toward surveilling its citizens could never have been effected without the imagination, experience, and audacity of Dick Cheney."

But the funny thing is (humor is our way of processing the horrifying awareness that six trillion dollars and countless lives destroyed because of one man's good luck) that none of those things would have been possible had Dick Cheney not been blessed by living a life parallel to technological advances in the field of cardiology.

Cheney had his first heart attack in 1978 while campaigning for his first seat in the House.

For Cheney that 1978 coronary would be the first of five, his survival increasingly owed to the most advanced medical technology that with almost miraculous fortune became available just as he needed it to survive—as if, Cheney writes, he “were traveling down a street, late for work, and all the lights ahead of me were red, but they turned green just before I got there.”

Cheney's doctors also recount a revealing moment during the former Vice President's heart transplant.

In Alan’s raised right hand, festooned with surgical clamps and now separated from the body that it had sustained for seventy-one years, rested the vice president’s heart. It was huge, more than twice the size of a normal organ, and it bore the scars of its four-decade battle with the relentless disease that eventually killed it.

I turned from the heart to look down into the chest…. The surreal void was a vivid reminder that there was no turning back.