My faith in politics had waned long before I watched 20 minutes of a nauseating Q&A session between Ann Coulter and a nameless mass of privileged young white conservatives whose questions were barely more probing than, “Ann, are you a gift from God?” When Ann said that she was, “sure” that liberals will take credit for ending abortion a hundred years from now—just like they took credit for ending slavery and segregation—I vomited all over my bed. I should be pissed but my bed is already filled with blood sucking insects, so a little vomit on top isn’t really a big deal: anyway, I think I’ll avoid sleep tonight.
Potential plans to avoid sleeping in an infested, vomit-covered bed: take Adderall and try to figure out why Ann never learned about political realignment, sit in Bear Nasties from 12 to 2 a.m., try to figure out why the pizza is drowned with three inches of grease, and try to player Guitar Hero III with my feet. So many options, so little night to burn.
When I try to find the full transcript of the Coulter Q&A on c-span.com I end up clicking on a video of the British House of Common’s questioning of Prime Minister Gordon Brown. I was not at all prepared for what I was about to witness.
Imagine if Bush went to Congress and was forced to answer any question that anyone asked him (someone even asked what the prime minister wanted for Christmas). But this isn’t a simple ask-answer-move on format; it’s a nearly unmoderated debate. There is heckling and shouting and booing and hissing and sarcastic laughter and a fat old man in a robe that demands order once every couple of minutes. Everyone is addressed as, “the right, honorable gentleman,” yet they spend most of the time insulting each other. It’s completely unruly, completely immature, completely absurd, but ultimately exponentially more useful than any American political process. It’s a nose-to-nose clash of executive and legislative branch—something we can’t imagine seeing in this country.
Our legislature has been raped, beaten, and spat on by this administration; they’ve come out bloody and sore but smiling the toothy, creepy smiles of the institutionalized insane. While our Congress is assuming the position before their executive, replacing the combative rhetoric that spewed from their mouths in the months leading up to the 2006 elections with the lactating nipple of the White House, the British legislature is getting face to face with their executive, calling the prime minister an incompetent failure at a distance close enough for a fist-fight to erupt without anyone having time to intervene.
One member of the legislature even stood up, just steps from the prime minister, and told him he’s gone from “Stalin to Mr. Bean.” The chamber erupted in an orgy of laughter and booing and yelping that is more akin to an episode of Carson Daly-era TRL than a parliamentary session. Keep in mind that that Brown has only been in office for 155 days and he’s already mutated into a Soviet tyrant and a movie character who can only be described as Mr. Bean. Bush has been systematically dismantling this country for seven years and all we get out of Nancy Pelosi is an impossibly large forehead and billions more for Iraq. Bush is like the drug addict that he’s always been—you can sit back and hope that this time will be different, but at some point you have to have some sort of intervention. You have to say, “You only have one nostril, you’ve spent all of our money, our house is infested with rats and other varmints (i.e. bed bugs), and you ran over two children driving north in the southbound lane. No more coke for you, George.”
I’m not sure any Congressman has the balls to say that to Bush’s face, which is the true tragedy for the Democratic Party. Except for maybe John Murtha, whom the media has decided is a lunatic for some reason, the Democrats are just going through the motions. Every once in a while the soggy-faced Senate Majority Troll Harry Reid will abandon whichever bridge he’s guarding to stand behind a podium and point and make some noise in an attempt to launch some new initiative. But ultimately nothing ever gets accomplished and at the end of the day Bush is still doing an eight ball off of Pelosi’s ass while she clutches a gavel and does a telephone interview with O! Magazine.
I’m not saying our Congress should turn into the animal house that is the House of Commons, but a little passion wouldn’t hurt. The failing Democrats should at least put up a fight: they should at least think up an insult more creative than “Mr. Bean” for this president of ours.