Wednesday, October 18, 2006

When your Context


Becomes your Coffin

Hey kids, remember me?

See, there was this other election, exactly thirty years ago...

Another Republican Party, putrid so deep in the blood that its own members ran screaming in horror from it.

Republicans like Representative Lawrence Hogan from Maryland, who famously said, as the Watergate scandal was coming to a head:
“The thing that's so appalling to me is that the President, when this whole idea was suggested to him, didn't, in righteous indignation, rise up and say, "Get out of here, you're in the office of the President of the United States. How can you talk about blackmail and bribery and keeping witnesses silent? This is the presidency of the United States." But my President didn't do that. He sat there and he worked and worked to try to cover this thing up so it wouldn't come to light.”


Of course, gutted of conscience and drowning in hubris, Jim Beam and the Blood-o-Christ, this current Administrations views all that led up to and followed Watergate as a failure not because it was the greatest attempt to rape and murder the Constitution in modern history, but because they believe Tricky Dick was too big a pussy to burn the tapes, shoot Woodstein and roll a few hundred tanks in the streets.

Y’know, because he wouldn't pull the trigger and go Full Metal Pinochet Cheney-style.

No, the Bush White House is a reeking haggis made from the diseased organs of the Watergate White House and run straight out of the Protocols of the Elders of Nixon, but this is not about that shameful chapter in modern Republican history.

This is about the Gerald Ford Coda at the end of Nixon’s dark symphony.

Not the pardon -- which was an awful mistake but one I accept Ford made for honest reasons – but his run for the Presidency in his own right in 1976.

Now I liked Jerry Ford. He was an older-school, kinder, gentler Rockefeller Republican. Shit, put him back in the House, embedded in a Party of men and women like him, and Us and Them would have a lot to talk about.

A lot to agree on, or to at least dispute over respectably, and from which each side could retire from the field with honor. Because in that Universe, the Center would once again really mean something.

In that Universe, Compromise would be a virtue and not be an epithet.

In that Universe, the GOP would not be run by that bottom-feeding Morlocks like Grover Norquist who liken bipartisanship to date-rape.

But that is long ago and far away in the land of Never Was; in a place where political comity and collegiality had not been vaporized under a premeditated and coordinate rain of Unholy Partisan Nuclear Fire from Hannity and Coulter, Roberston and Dobson, Gingrich and Limbaugh, Rove and Atwater, Racists and Theocrats.

All of whom have one thing in common: they are completely cool with a Constitution-immolating, Liberty-razing Pyrrhic victory. Dee-lighted with the thought of it, in fact, so long as they get to squat in the ruins and play King on the rubble of what was once a great nation.

In the Here and Now, the Center is nothing more than Tom Friedman’s morally indefensible, intellectually flaccid flophouse. To be found in any given hour at whichever GPS location happens to be exactly halfway between wherever Jerry Falwell and Harry Reid happens to be on any given issue.

(Ignoring, of course, the simple fact that Harry Ried’s positions look an awful lot like where Jerry Ford used to be, and Falwell is about one Guyana jungle, one pair of sunglasses and 300 gallons of Koolaid short of being Jim Jones.)

Of course making such a staggeringly obvious observation would affront Friedman’s essential dishonesty and laziness – his Long Con depends entirely on mechanically blaming Both Sides Exactly Equally no matter what atrocities the GOP commit mere inches from his face, so don’t expect him to grow a spine and a conscience any time soon.

But this is about Jerry Ford, 1976, and 2006.

Affable guy, Jerry, as I have already mentioned. And he did what he could to set things a’rights. Who, for example, can ever forget his Whip Inflation Now initiative? (I have a whole box of “W.I.N.” buttons stashed away here at castle driftglass next to the Y2K jerky and dehydrated Oban powder...just in case.) Or his prescient pronouncements regarding the freedom of the Polish people years before their chains were actually broken?

But when the basic material you have work with is so putrid, you better be the original Smoove B, Love Man if you want to pull it off.

And Jerry wasn’t. He came across as bumbling and addled. In the volatile world that Watergate left behind, one misstep might have been forgiven, but Jerry made several.

And the there was the whole falling down problem.


Then Chevy Chase piled on,

and people started watching for Jerry to stumble.

Which he did. A shame, really: he was a graceful man and quite the athlete in his day.

A lot of factors conspired to defeat Gerald Ford: Nixon, Reagan, James Earl Carter, the fall of South Vietnam and the Mayag├╝ez to name a few.

But it would also be fair to say that context killed his Presidency. Once seen and decisively mocked as ineffectual and bumbling – once that narrative killbox was clamped around him – every other misstep resonated louder and louder as a reflection of a larger Basic Truth.

That’s why, three weeks before this 2006 election, my thoughts turn to Jerry and 1976.

Because from Iraq to Katrina to DeLay to the parade of the Grand Old Pedophiles, the same fractal repeats itself.

Thirty years ago, to get and hold power, the GOP consciously decided to court racists and theocrats, and make ferocious war on the Truth as a matter of electoral strategy.

And as long as the truth was an abstract thing -- someone else’s brother dying, someone else’s money being looted, someone else’s rights being violated, someone else’s father tortured, someone else's mother losing her pension, someone else’s kids being hunted, someone else’s country being fucked into the ground -- Republicans, being the morally degenerate creatures that they are, had no problem whatsoever with the Truth being waterboarded.

It was all just good fun until a Republican Congress -- now openly led by raving theocrats -- decided to belligerently intrude into the private life-and-death decisions of a single family named Schiavo.

And in response to the jolt of nausea the Middle felt at seeing the naked face of the Christopaths who really run their Party, the Right Wing Hate Machine -- incapable of admitting error and taking corrective action -- just turned the volume up a little louder.

Then a Republican President let an American city die because he was too busy clearing brush on his fake ranch in Crawford to be bothered with the drowning of an American city and a buncha dying Negroes.

And the Right Wing Hate Machine turned the volume up a louder still. Blame the poor. The weak. The elderly. The dying. The brown. They just let their racist freak flag fly because, hey, they won in 2004 so now it's finally acceptable to embrace your inner Klansman in the public square!

Right?

Right?

Then we find out this Republican President lied us into a war, and as Americans are maimed and killed for those lies, he has been rectifying the problems by lying about his lies.

For years.

And the Family Values Christians who operate Right Wing Hate Machine practically snap the fucking volume knob off, calling veteran’s cowards and critic’s traitors.

Then we find out this war we were lied into actual breeds the very disease we were told it was supposed to cure, and as it all falls apart, the Right Wing Hate Machine rams the rhetoric up to an eardrum-shattering shriek because, having gone to that well so many times, it is literally all they know how to do anymore.

And in this soundstorm of thundering rhetoric that is no longer even tangentially related to Reality at any point, the sleepy Middle slooowly wakes and begins to see what the rest of us have known all along: that all the GOP knows how to do is fuck things up and steal.

And when the Truth they have been so hysterically trying to dam up starts breaching their lies -- when it all blows up in their faces -- all they know how to do is duck and cower like a Yellow Elephant desperately hiding from a Marine recruiter. It was blame Clinton, blame soldiers, blame vets, blame children, blame the media and blame everyone else in the world for their own sins, crimes, and criminal incompetence.

Because they are, in their own way, where Ford was 30 years ago: welded into a context of their own construction, and unable to get out.

The really, lasting story of Mark Foley scandal was not that a pedophile was loose in the Party of God, or even that the Party itself knew about it and did nothing because power is more important to them than the safety of children. Hell, anyone looking at the Iraq or New Orleans knows that the GOP does not give a shit about the lives and deaths of ordinary Americans except in the case of a Pat Tillman when their demise can be spun into a pro-Bush press release.

No, the real story is found in tracking the reaction abroad in the land.

First the stunned shock by Party faithful.

Then the resounding, “Well, DUH!” reply to that shock. The mocking “Where the fuck have you meatheads been for the last six years” response to those who were stunned by those of us who had not been living on a steady diet of Limbaugh Koolaid and dumbass pills for most of our adult lives.

Then a deafening stillness before the storm really broke. Caught red-fucking-handed trolling for children and covering it up, how would the Party of God react?

This was a quiet filled to overflowing with the silent, hopeless prayers of the rank and file millions:
“Oh, please don’t embarrass us in front of the Liberals again.

We’re tired of defending you craven hucksters.

We’re tired of backing chickenhawks against genuine war heroes.

Please don’t shit yourselves and run away, then whine and lie and blame your siblings like spoiled children again.

Please for the love of God step up, man-up and don’t show yourself to be the weasely, soul-dead, abject cowards and pussies the Liberals say you are.

Again.”


Ah, but was there ever any doubt how the Party of Falwell and Coulter and Rove would react?

Still fighting its ridiculous, rear-guard action against a Truth that surrounds them now on every side, the Party of Personal Responsibility melted down on camera so embarrassingly, so completely and so predictably as to almost defy parody.

Of course they blamed Clinton.

And Pelosi.

And the media.

And, finally, the children themselves.

In the face of the child sex predators and their enablers they have sheltered in their midst, instead of looking into their own filthy souls and confronting the monsters they have let nest there, they did what they always do; looked to Karl Rove to come down off the mountain with tablets of New Talking Points that would let them off the hook for their sickening behavior.

They’ve fallen once too often.

And now they can’t get up.

23 comments:

cieran said...

And now they can’t get up.

And that's why it's so important to continue kicking them now that they are down.

Or to reword one of your favorite maxims: republican is just another word for unamerican.

Great work, Sir DG!

Lex said...

Sir:

Your comparison of the Bush White House to a "reeking haggis" is an insult to sheep intestines worldwide.

Lex said...

Sorry, to sheeps' *stomachs* worldwide.

Kid Charlemagne said...

I will believe the GOP is doomed if and when the election results say so. Sorry, folks, but after living through 8 years of St. Ronnie's "It's Morning In America" disciplinary-optimism bull$#|+, I irremediably associate optimism with liars and fools. I hope the optimists prove correct Nov. 8, but I can't let myself feel good yet; I've been "Charlie Browned" too many times already. ("I'm gonna kick that football clear to the MOON! AAAUUUGGHHHH!" *WUMP!*) The Reagan years taught me NEVER to underestimate the stupidity of my fellow USAmericans.

Alyssa said...

Rantalicious, Driftglass!

I would also like to point out that the other thing the Christopathics do when the Truth is finally louder than anything else is put their religion bag over their head and magnanimously forgive the monsters and proclaim them redeemed. Forgiveness they could never ever ever muster if it was for anyone on the Outside, even for transgressions that don't actually involve the predation of children or mass murder or grand larceny of the public trust and coffers.

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eddie blake said...

.....aahhh...i LOVE the smell of UNVARNISHED TRUTH in the morning...


....it smells like VICTORY...

Kid Charlemagne said...

Wasn't it nice of that spammer to take time out from his busy schedule of sodomizing farm animals to tell us about his site?

Anonymous said...

Alyssa you want to see how a real religion works/ Look to the amish who forgave the school shooter & offered to help out his family.

I gave up on organized religion looonnnggg ago.

The fact that they are just now realizing what a sham the whole bushco world has become has got to hurt them. (the fakes, not the amish) how do you begin to quesation the unreality that has protected you form the realreality for so long?

It's almost like suddnely waking up and realizing there is no god.

another brilliant post drifty.

thnx


pawpvt

Grep Agni said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Grep Agni said...

...calling veteran’s cowards and critic’s traitors.

You've got to cut back on the apostrophes, man. They'll eat right through your brain's.

US Blues said...

Looks like the GOP just got driftglassed yet again.

PS- "powdered Oban" wtf??

Anonymous said...

Wow that was a beautiful post.

rehctaw said...

rehctaw observed:

US Blues said...
PS- "powdered Oban" wtf??

Simple. Just add Talisker.

Thank you again Sir Driftglass.

Could you do me a favor and revisit your "You can be a good republican or a good american, but not both." diamond with the value added by an unebbing litany of pus-bags staying their course?

driftglass said...

rehctaw,
I'll do what I can. BTW, that "Just add Talisker." is a fine answer to US Blues question :-)

grep agni,
I know; speed kills. The sorta thing I catch on my third pass, two days later.
Aye, there's the rub.

pawpvt,
Plenty of good people of faith out there. Like the Amish.
But yeah, I just wouldn't look for 'em in large numbers in megachurches.

Kid Charlemagne,
The spammers are all about the love.

Alyssa,
Thx. Hope you got my email.

cieran,
Thanks.

lex,
my apologies to sheep's guts everywhere.

US Blues,
An abomination, I know, and strickly for the walk-in traffic.
For the real Apocalypse I will be stocking ancient Laphroaig. Both to drink and to grease St. Peter

KId Charlemagne said...

Off topic: Drifty, you might wanna cross-post Lower Manhattanite's "Mudbone goes to Maryland" comments in the "OMFG" thread of Steve Gilliard's blog. Just don't be eatin' or drinkin' anything when you read it. :)

Dawnne said...

not that i possess anything close to your abilities as a blogger, but i put this (the cited "web page" link) up this morning from a conversation with my son yesterday, with a link back here to your post, which is fundamentally (pardon the anti-pun) better than mine.

i sincerly doubt it's a great minds think alike issue, but it was at least an interesting coinkydink.

thanks for what you do.

1988dylan said...

Nice job. One of my all time fave's was your mafia bust out analogy. Is it archived?

rehctaw said...

I've made this offer before. Name your poison.

Old Pulteney, Oban, Glenfiddich, Highland Park, Dalwhinnie, Maccallan, McClelland, Glenkinchie,
Balblair, Balvenie, JMR, Speyburn, Talisker,Tamdhu, Lagavulin, Auchentosan, Bowmore, Caol Ila, Clyneish, Cragganmore, Dalmore, Glen Garioch, Tormore.

You can collect and shake the hand that dropped a bottle of 40 year Glenfiddich.

driftglass said...

Dawnne,
That is so nice of you.

rehctaw,
And up I shall take you on it one day. Meanwhile, you did saw off the offending appendage, didn't you?

Kid Charlemagne,
Take a look for yourself.

rehctaw said...

You'd a been proud. Caught it with my foot. Well, catch isn't the right word, just deflected its trajectory and slowed its descent to the point that it remained intact.

Sort of what you do here.

Phoenix Woman said...

Ah, Oban. 14-year-old stuff, too old for Mark Foley, in other words (rimshot).

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