Mark Drolette: Dems forget first rule of C.Y.A.
Dems Forget First Rule Of C.Y.A.: Check To See If (Jack)Boot Is Already Firmly Implanted
By Mark Drolette
I have this dream: I'm a U.S. forest ranger. (Must be the hat.) I oversee a national park, and for longer than I care to admit, I've allowed all of its trees, streams, plants, critters -- you know, the foresty-type stuff -- to be subjected to regular dumping of tons of toxic waste by a guy who looks suspiciously like a Republican. (I'm sure he is, actually; after all, the distribution of noxious garbage is a GOP specialty, though current Democrats certainly merit a dishonorable mention.)
I know that what he's doing is wrong and regularly tell him so. I've sharply honed my scolding skills and now sound quite officious while chastising him, but, even as I continue polishing my admonishing, I nonetheless allow him to continue fouling, unabated, the public's domain.
The payoff? I get to keep my job! See, this guy is no crappy crap dealer -- his air of effluence (phew!) leaves no doubt he's in the pipeline, so to speak -- and thus I'm afraid any stink I raise will find my career in the tank. (Please, there is no cause for alarm: This line has already been submitted to DBP [the Department of Bad Puns] for possible recall. Penalties may apply.)
A few days pass and -- whoosh! -- I get canned anyway. (I'm hopeless.) I think, "Well, that's gratitude for ya." Then I wake up, relieved, but after a brief scan of C-SPAN, I'm ready to go all unconscious again since the rotten world of Busholini out-horrifies any dream I could ever hope not to have, no matter how rank.
Speaking of ranking (close enough; it was in the dollar bin at the Segue Store), let's check in with the leading Democrat on the sorely-misnamed Senate Intelligence Committee, Senator Jay Rockefeller (WV), as he performs his own best crooked forest ranger impersonation with his aye vote to move a hideous bill (granting the FBI subpoena power without judicial oversight) out of committee for a full Senate vote, legislation that really should be called, were truth a fashionable thing these days, the Gut the Fourth Amendment Act:
Per the Associated Press, Rockefeller "supported the bill overall but said he would push for limits that would allow such administrative subpoenas 'only if immediacy dictates.'"
Hmm.I think I see the FBI immediately gettin' immediate all of the immediate time; how 'bout you? And just how, pray tell, now that Rockefeller has done his part to toss this legislative red meat (which, by the way, also authorizes renewing the Patriot Act) onto the full Senate floor where the dominant pack of GOP freedom-shredding wolverines awaits, does he now expect such "limits" to be magically inserted into this already ghastly bill? Out of the kindness of Republicans' hearts?
Like, dude: Wouldn't they have to have them first?
"Look the Other Way" Jay ain't a lone bemoaner. Here's fellow committee member, bill supporter, and rangerette-gone-bad candidate Democratic Senator Barbara Mikulski (MD), according to AP: "This bill must be amended on the floor to protect national security while protecting Constitutional (sic) rights."
Hey, Barb: Methinks you might want to put "protecting constitutional rights" a little higher on your must-do list than, say, somewhere between kissing Dubya's ass and getting an eyeball piercing (the enjoyment factor for each, by the way, being roughly equivalent). 'Tis a dropped-jaw wonder observing you and your fellow Dems bob, weave, posture, and pontificate (just like watching a Bush press conference, except in English), as if, somehow, when the neocons finally and completely take over America (the courts are the last piece) and they no longer need the sham mantle of democracy, you'll still be able to cling to whatever sway you erroneously think you now possess.
A late friend who was a recovering drunk used to say: "Alcoholics are the only breed of cat in the world that absolutely refuse to give up what they don't have in the first place: power." He was speaking about alcoholics' perceived ability to control their drinking, but the theory also applies perfectly to today's Democrats (without the booze part, of course, which is really too bad in a way since a stiff snort here and there couldn't help but geometrically boost their courage factor, even if only temporarily. Besides, what I wouldn't give to see someone like a thoroughly well-oiled Senator Joe Biden [D-DE], tie askew and hair wildly unkempt, heartily bitch-slapping a saucer-eyed Senator Jeff "Uber Sycophant" Sessions [R-AL] right across the sanctified Senate floor. Maybe someone from CNN can spike the Capitol water supply during sweeps week.).
Here's the deal: The deal is done. Elections are rigged; the fix is in. Anyone who doesn't realize the seating arrangement at the table of American power has long been set (by the gangrenous Poppy Bush/Dick Cheney/Karl Rove gang) either isn't paying attention, is in severe denial, or attended the George W. Bush School of Convolutionary Thinking (no one ever actually graduates). The suspense about who will be our next monarch comes only in wondering which Bush it will be. Democrats need to dry their incessant crocodile tears, tell it like is, and, in the process, maybe even get little bits of their souls back, not to mention actually -- gasp! -- help their country in its hour of most dire need.
They have nothing to lose -- well, other than everything up to and including their lives, but, hey: don't real patriots put it all on the line? (See: Congressman John Conyers [D-MI].)
What's truly fascinating, though, in a my-country-is-utterly-trashed-so-I-might-as-well-get-as-much-sardonic-enjo yment-out-of-the-whole-rotten-mess-before-it's-all-set-ablaze-anyway sort of way, is watching Reptilicans also display total obliviousness to their own finite political shelf lives in the Project for a New American Century-driven global Hell-Mart in which we all find ourselves. There's nothing quite like the combination of a galactic-sized ego coupled with an astounding lack of humility to produce some rather priceless goings-on. With that in mind, I hereby nominate Senator Bill Frist (R-TN) for this year's Delusional Thinking Award.
Yes, I already know you know Frist is nuttier'n a fruit bat with bad sonar, but what I'm talking about here is major league delusional, super delusional, mega-delusional, unsurpassed certifiable delusional; in other words, pretty delusional. I mean, the guy acts like he actually has a shot at being appointed president some day! He thinks he's in the inner circle, yet even as Senate majority leader, he appears not to understand he's only been given so many pages of the neocon playbook.
The recent media squawking heads cluckfest about whether Frist lost or won or even went toy-toy all over himself during the whole filibuster "nuclear option" circus (boy, the Dems really showed them, huh?) is irrelevant. It doesn't matter. When was the last time the ruling thugs gave a shout-out to the rule of law or the Constitution, never mind piddling Senate rules that have been in place just about forever?
That whole non-drama didn't affect Frist's chances of becoming thief executive one whit. They were nil before and they're nil now. Why? First, Frist's friggin' fribblings: He's too damn goofy. If somehow he actually were the GOP candidate in the 2008 presidential selection, he'd garner so little of the real vote that, once it was announced he'd "won," it might finally become apparent to even the 100 million or so Americans enjoying their political perma-sleep that something was amiss with our balloting system. Second, he's got no Bush blood/black oily substance in his veins (unless he's a love child of Barbara's, which is simply too icky to contemplate one nanosecond longer).
So whether it's Democrats trying to retain power they don't have or Republicans positioning themselves for spots that aren't open, the fact remains: America is run by a small cadre of immoral, imperialistic maniacs. Go to the Project for a New American Century's website for a good starter list of names of those who make the decisions, chart the course, put people in positions of power, and take them out (by any means necessary). And unless there's action with traction against the PNAC faction putrefaction, America is doomed to continue her death spiral. (Two bits at Alliteration Alley; not bad, eh?)
Can these monsters be eliminated? Sure, eventually; no empire lasts forever. The only question is when that will occur. I've held little hope since November 2 that it would be in my lifetime, and I still, unfortunately, believe that. However, with the continued release of the Downing Street memos -- at last count, about 543 now, I think -- I've actually allowed myself the luxury of thinking there may be a teensy, weensy chance of leaving this abyss sooner rather than later. However, in order for these smoking guns (more like automatic weapons, given the sheer volume) to make an impression upon the millions of Americans who need their proof in neatly-wrapped, easily-readable formats (since it's not as though those of us in the alternative media and out on the streets haven't been screaming for years about the mountains of indisputable evidence verifying the Bushies' evil misdeeds), this would mean the American whoreporate media would need to do a sudden about-face from their current lackey status and actually engage in traditional journalism. Allah help us in that case (though I did see coverage of Conyers' June 16 hearing about the memos on the front page of this morning's Sacramento Bee [but zilch on Yahoo], so, we'll see.).
In the meantime? Well, acquiescent Democrats still can't see the forest for the trees, even while Republicans spread their deadly poison before inevitably just going ahead and setting the whole damn woods on fire. (I actually got this one for free at the Analogy Emporium. Wonder why?)
Copyright © 2005 Mark Drolette. All rights reserved.
Bio: Mark Drolette is a political satirist/commentator who lives in Sacramento, California. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org. His website address is http://www.markdrolette.com/.