Trotsky Bitches About Stalin

Andrew Sullivan is very angry with these darn Republicans:

The Dickishness Of The GOP

What we've observed these past two years is a political party that knows nothing but scorched earth tactics, cannot begin to see any merits in the other party's arguments, refuses to compromise one inch on anything, and has sought from the very beginning to do nothing but destroy the Obama presidency. I see no other coherent message or strategy since 2008. Just opposition to everything, zero support for a president grappling with a recession their own party did much to precipitate, and facing a fiscal crisis the GOP alone made far worse with their spending in the Bush-Cheney years. There is not a scintilla of responsibility for their past; not a sliver of good will for a duly elected president. Worse, figures like Cantor and McCain actively seek to back foreign governments against the duly elected president of their own country, and seek to repeal the signature policy achievement of Obama's first two years, universal healthcare.

Of course, as with his ideological Conservative expatriate running buddies like David Fucking Brooks, such criticism always comes with a whopping huge kill-switch caveat that lets the author off the hook for spending years and years making a fine living creating the very monster he now abjures.

With David Brooks, the Great Big Lie is that, no matter how badly or publicly Republicans shit the bed...both sides are always somehow to blame. It if a very lucrative lie: one that has not only saved his career and the careers of countless other mainstream media hacks, but is dutifully repeated by every mouth-breathing Right wing stooge every time they get caught looking stupid defending another Conservative fairy tale as it falls apart all around them.

With Mr. Sullivan, the Great Big Lie is ...well...let's see if you can spot it yourself:

This is not conservatism, properly understood, a disposition that respects the institutions and traditions of government, that can give as well as take, that seeks the national interest before partisan concerns, and that respects both the other branches of government and seeks to work with them. These people are not conservatives in this core civilized sense; they are partisan vandals.

Or, as Digby (and many, many others) put it long ago, like Communism, to the true believer:

"Conservatism cannot fail, it can only be failed."

Mr. Sullivan knows perfectly well that no such adolescent Fantasy Football Conservatism has ever existed or will ever exist outside of Bill Buckley's wet dreams. Mr. Sullivan also knows perfectly that the real Modern Conservative movement -- the one he began championing before he was in long pants -- was born in sin, cultured in its Confederate petri dish by Nixon and metastasized by Reagan using every one of the mindless, racist, fundamentalist, paranoid, anti-science, xenophobic, homophobic, fanatical ingredients that now turn Mr. Sullivan's stomach.

That the Reagan Revolution Right -- in whose vanguards Mr. Sullivan proudly marched -- could never have seized or maintained anything like the political, economic, religious or media power it enjoys today without having every one of those elements burned onto its motherboard since the beginning.

Still, its darn nice to see Mr. Sullivan taking an interest in what his kooky, feral children are up to these days.

For the record, here's a little helping of what I was saying nearly six years and 3,000 posts ago:

All the cool people -- all the Eisenhower’s and the Rockefeller’s and your own namesake [ed. Post was written about Lincoln Chafee]-- their ideas and principles are as dead as Dillinger inside your party now. Time to sit a little shiva, have a little wake, grieve properly for the death of the Republican Party...and move on with your political life.

They’re dead, Senator. All dead. Dead and gone and the Pods have take over. Look around you, Senator. Mullahs and plutocrats, that have signed a fragile non-aggression pact so that they can join forces and eliminate their mutual enemy: Democracy.

Come on, Senator: quite abetting the schemes of evil men by continuing to lend your good name to their bad cause. You had giants in your party once...but now?

A drooling haircut like Santorum? A gumby-haired Klansman-lite like Lott? Your own Amazing Diagnostic Kreskin, Herr Doctor Frist, desperately trying to discretely fellate enough Fundamentalist dick to get the nod in 2008? (Doesn’t Herr Doktor know that the Fundies see through him like gamma radiation? Call him a slut behind his back and write lurid shit about him on the bathroom walls? I mean, is there anything lower and more pathetic than an incompetent whore?)

A thug like DeLay siezing your agenda?
A punkass, third-rate, idiot-son like Bush as your Standard Bearer?

Get Out!
The calls...they’re coming from...inside the your own house!
Run for your life!

Face it, as long as your party needs a spike of James Dobson and Randall Terry’s particular brand of Electoral Heroin just to make through the day, they are doomed to be the Fundy's bitch.

And you know it.

Just look at poor John McCain if you want to see what the future looks like: a genuine war hero, and he can’t get the dick of the coward that slandered and humiliated him out of his mouth long enough to speak his own mind for five minutes at a stretch any more.

If you stay, they’ll annihilate you, and you know it.
You will never, ever be able to change them, and you know it.

Time to leave, Senator, with grace, on your own terms, before the Swift Boater’s bell tolls for thee.

Because you know these bastards really are serious. You know it.

And just for kicks, here's another little slice of what was on my mind during that same week in that long-ago age of 2005:

Sorry bucko, this is the New Normal: while you were busy explaining to family and friends (me, for example) that the fringe Right was on a nice, tight leash and would never bust out of it's Petri dish and go pneumonic...they were busy putting all the joint property in their names. So congratulations: While you were cleverly “playing” them, you became the “fringe” and they became The Party.

In other words, while you were busy congratulating you sly self, you forgot to read the Fine Print and, brother, you gone and done joined the Klan!

So you can either get comfortable with wearing sheets and marching in formation, or run, do not walk, the Fuck Out of their Abattoir, but what you can’t do is continue this ruinous and infantile pretense that it’s not happening, or that it’s not bad, or that it’s not you fault.

It is happening.
It is that bad.
And it is ENTIRELY your fault.

So, for what seems like the umpteen millionth time, let’s take a good hard look at your new ”friends”, and then you explain to the rest of the country – and to the rest of the planet – why you persist in letting these feces-based life forms own and operate your party and act in your name.

First, Wingnuts clearly hate America as passionately as any Taliban. They hate the plurality of it, the tolerance, the check-and-balance crap that deters them from curb-stomping gays and Liberals and “the coloreds” whenever they fucking well feel like it. They’re delighted with the notion of a fascist America (as long as they are the one’s holding the machine guns) and are practically kicking the back seats of the Big Republican Bus asking Bush over and over, “Are We There Yet!?”

They adore the idea of a Strong Man lining up the degenerates and mowing them down in Slow Motion on Pay-Per-View. They jizz over their chubby, pink feet at the thought of stadia full of smart-ass “humanists” being tasered into “sounding off that you luv the Virgin Mary” and mass graves full of dead feminists. Their head’s are open sewers swirling with happy masturbatory blood-thoughts of beating their betters to jelly, raping their women, and having an Approving Christian Father in the White House who smiles munificently on their carnage.

It is the eternal dream of the weak, the cowardly, the stupid and the impotent.

They dream of showing up with gore-smeared faces, dragging along the head of some fag they murdered with their teeth, and dropping it at the feet of a Beloved Leader who first absolves, and then makes them proud of their perversion. To such people, the fact that their Overlords are a gang of reckless liars, thugs and whores is not simply irrelevant –- it is a source of radiant pride. They draw their strength from the deepest recesses of torch-lit human barbarism. They are at war with reality itself, and they smile at every lie their Masters tell. Every manwhore who is uncovered – figuratively or otherwise – makes the shrug and smirk and then dance a drunken little jig that says, “See! See! We can do anything and you can’t stop us! Anything! ”

This is the behavior you validate and actively endores every time you vote for or contribute to Republican causes.

So when Bush or DeLay or their codpieces and minions open their bibble-spigots and extrude another steaming pile of laughably ignorant shit all over the media, instead of being even moderately embarrassed or feeling like hypocrites, your new friends are thrilled. However, they believe they’re still a Scalia/Thomas-grade Supreme Court nominations away from being able to come right out and shoot their critics down like dogs in the street in the name of the Prince of Peace, so the best they can do for now is run in tiny circles, screaming incoherently at the tops of their lungs.

That is who they are. They make absolutely no secret of agenda is, what they’re willing to do to accomplish it, and what they plan to do after they overthrow the United States, so how about you Wake the Fuck Up and answer one, simple question: Why in the name of God do you insist on helping your enemies destroy the nation you claim you love?

Thank God that mess has finally been all finally been cleaned up, eh?