Dear Mr. President,
I have to confess—you are a mystery to me. A conundrum wrapped in an enigma. You ran one of the more inspiring campaigns in recent memory, yet your presidency thus far has been a confusing and contradictory one.
Following in the disastrous wake of the Bush administration, you have too-often sought Republican approval; even after the electorate made it clear they wanted a clean break from Republicans and Republican policies. Even after Republicans have repeatedly made it clear they had no intention whatsoever of siding with you on anything, you have continued to solicit their support.
The latest example is your tragically-flawed proposal of freezing government spending. Tell me Mr. President: Isn’t the spending freeze instituted by anxious consumers over the past sixteen months proof-enough this does not work? That this is a very bad idea? If not to appease Republican critics, exactly what is the reason for this?
The goal of bipartisanship you cited during your inauguration was a noble one. It is one likely beyond criticism. The ugly truth is this, Mr. President: You could have invented sex, and Republicans would only say they got screwed. Once and for all: Republicans are not your friends.
But that’s only the beginning.
There’s the wayward mess that are congressional Democrats. I’m wondering if they could agree on how many shoes human beings wear, much less on how to best govern a nation listing like a sinking ship. You’re the boss, Mr. President. You're the coach. Congressional Democrats are your team.
You need to grab your players by the scruff of the neck and tell them the facts of political life: “Listen up. You’re going to the sacrificial altar of re-election before I am. You want to come back to your cushy government job? Or do you want to go back to cranking out billable hours and negotiating settlements for people too stupid to know coffee is hot?
You want this job back, we need to get to work. We need to pass meaningful health care reform. Not your reform, or your reform, or your reform. Our reform. We need to show the country we’re not Wall Street’s bitch. Or the bank’s. And we need to expose Republicans for the sorry, reality-TV rejects they are.
If we don’t, we’re all going home. Going home as losers who couldn’t cut it in DC. And we’ll leave the country to those circus freaks on the other side of the aisle. The ones who think leadership is acting like a six-year-old who's just been told he can't go out and play because he didn't finish his vegetables.
Gentlemen, the choice is yours. Which do you prefer?”
There’s an old expression that you dance with them that brung ya. Well Mr. President, it’s time to remember.
La Piazza Gancio