Dear Mrs. Vera,
Will Republicans filibuster the right of Democrats to filibuster, or something?
Your Friend Flicka
The Right Hon. Sen. James Strom Thurmond, ret’d., dec’d.
The Senate Republican Caucus Of The Itty Bitty Titty Committeee
Dear Flickmond Playform Bitsmith,
As my readers are well aware, levels of nervousness and discomfort swell whenever Americans are faced with talk of either boobs or Washington politicking, but they especially spike whenever speaking of what the Boobs in Washington are considering politely licking in their epi-enigm-ana grammatic way of governing. But we must overcome our puritanistic giggles and snorts and horsey neighghghs to deal with the serious problems we face in order to lift and separate the divisive partisan rhetoric pushing up, unnecessarily, the hot button issues that are threatening all of American society with our own self-inflicted cleavage to the point where our country may soon go bust. This will happen soon, if we cannot learn to cooperate at some point before there is nothing left to govern but a big pile of worn-out elastic.
Republicans feel a genuine territorial ownership of modern filibustering, much as Gay people have reclaimed the word “Queer” and African-Americans reclaimed the word “Don Cornelius,” to which I say to all Republicans jonesing for another taste of sweet, sweet, un-longwinded, lazy shirking of their job requirements, crack is wack. Just say no. Obamacare™ covers addiction rehabilitation expenses, so make a call and get some help if you can’t stop filibustering. Add to that the unprecedented war on women that has replaced the beaten to death, imaginary horses (sorry, Flicka) of job creation and fiscal responsibility, as the sole responsibility of the federal government, apparently, and we can see why they might feel so possessive of the rights to “Filly Busting.” It’s a term descriptive of the new Republican Bar W(omen)™ Dude Ranch brand, a plankably positive party platform talking point! Because, Lordy, after that last election, they sure do “get it” that women like to talk a lot, so all those ladies out there crabbing should all be pleased that half the country’s stranger men are talking and legislating about them and their bodies, and who should be able to do what with them, and about what women should not be able to decide about their bodies for themselves.
In reality the Filibuster, like many in congress, is but a tool. Either side can utilize it, but in recent history Republicans have embraced being tools far more than have their democratic counterparts. By filibustering everything, their strategy is to ignore the will of the American People, expressed through our arduous election process, probably because something like 50% of eligible voters are “dumb broads” or some other kind of non-Republican. In my opinion, Republicans will not only filibuster “the right” of Democrats to filibuster, they will insist that Democrats only ever had “the left” to filibuster in the first place, rendering all their elected opponents powerless. In the grabby sandbox of Capitol Hill all the toys are in one corner, along with the juice boxes and lunch money and Karl Rove’s Blackberry.
But how can a minority be expected to govern as if they won when the winners keep on trying to vote on government business that is not any of their nosy business? The Democrats have nothing to lose by voting to change the requirements on the tactic because the split second the Republicans have a majority, they will insist upon the fairness of the majority rule that, until Obama was elected, served the nation steadily for its entire history with the quaint notion that 51, and not some other number, was the lowest integer representing more than half of a hundred, as the senate crow flies. I know Jefferson and Adams could do math, but I’m not sure John Boehner can even count.
I’m an old-fashioned type who prefers a thank-you note to an eff-you block/delete/unfriend click, so I think, as they aren’t doing anything else but fundraising these days anyway, a filibuster should consist of the person causing the standard Rules Of Procedure to grind to a halt, on the taxpayer’s last dime, to actually stand there in front of a camera and give the lame crybaby reasons why they are prepared to stop the will of the people’s representatives from going forward, until they drop. I think that if there’s a kooky scheme that will spiral out of control, dragging Fred and Ethel down with it, Lucy has a bit of ’splaining to do, and on the record please, instead of just texting a message from the Lexus that they’d rather drop dead than allow a vote they can’t win. It isn’t that I don’t appreciate that kind offer, and while I’m not insisting every filibuster should end with a loss of life, I could live with the bulky padded image of the senate wearing adult diapers whenever any of its members feel they have a point to make. I’m thinking of you Paul Ryan, Michele Bachman, John McCai-er, Michele Bachman.
The Democrats fear that if they get rid of the filibuster they will have no way to stop the things so crazy normal people cannot even conceive of them that the right will be campaigning on shortly, but I am of the opinion that the time of Republicans sweeping into office has been replaced with a time of grouchy security guards sourly overseeing the gathering of things by current officeholders who will shortly be sweeping those offices out, and returning to the LobbyCorp™ Human Resources Department for career guidance. I believe this despite the successful, if numeridiotic, redistricting advantages they have granted themselves recently — unless they can manage, somehow, to get New York and California into the same gerrymandered district, or give Joe The Plumber his own state with seven senators, each more beautiful than the last, and in each senator’s sack were seven wives or cats, and every cat has seven kits, and they are all related to the Koch Brothers. That is just the kind of procedural manipulation that democracy is based on, if none of your arguments have any appeal to “voters.”
In the final analysis, the nation’s seamstresses know it does not really matter if you wear your filibuster to the left or to the right. Nobody likes putting up with the junk of a bully, a spoilsport or a sore loser, especially the rich and powerful ones that keep insisting you measure it again, after saying they have a 60 inseam when they are clearly a 51. A certain amount of shrinkage is to be expected, but that alone doesn’t mean the thing fits.
Mrs. Vera Newman is a San Francisco absurdist character, humorist, artist, writer, community organizer, clothes horse and co-founder, with Mister Tina, of The Verasphere. She has been answering the unasked questions she receives from the lonely, empty rooms of America’s heart-shaped circulatory pump room ever since it began beating. Nestled in the politically bent bowels of the Nation since she was a young girl babysitting the very same newborn Nation, her ability to self-reflect about anyone else’s embarrassing shortcomings, inept fumblings or lousy recipes has enabled her invisible rise as a modern-day Cassandra, whatever that means. Feel free to dispose of all your worries by leaving them on her doorstep!