Scraping the Bottom of the Barrel

Embattled Alabama congressional candidate Roy Moore has vowed to "take off the gloves" as his struggling campaign heads into the home stretch.

Which is fine—as long as the accused pedophile doesn't remove anything else.

Only someone like Moore could make the current members of Congress look upstanding by comparison.

Best of luck, Mr. Jones.

Confronting Confrontation

To paraphrase Albert Einstein, Barack Obama is a mystery wrapped in an enigma.

Given a mandate by an electorate fed-up with eight years of Republican policies, Obama seemed poised to lead America into a fresh, new era. Factoring in a Democratic-controlled Congress, the promise of January 20, 2009 seemed infinite.

But a funny thing happened. The electorate that thought it was getting a president committed to righting the wrongs of the Bush administration instead got a president routinely unable to corral congressional Democrats and get them on the same page to enact desperately-needed legislation.

A president who, despite being repeatedly subjected to the most-obnoxious elements of the conservative noise machine, attempted only to appease it.

We thought we were voting for the voice of change in November of 2008. It turns out we were voting for at-any-and-all-costs bipartisanship. In doing so, Obama has consistently snatched defeat from the jaws of victory.

As a slight, bookish boy not given to athletics, I was familiar with bullies.

This came to a head one day as I was returning to school after lunch. I encountered Billy Smith on the sledding hill near my home, and for whatever reason, Billy was in a foul mood. He believed that giving me a beating would right all the wrong in his world.

I attempted to ignore him, gamely continuing on. But Billy would not be denied. And when he landed a punch to my face, I became enraged. I kicked and punched with a fury unknown to me. And as the fight moved to the steep slope at the rear of the hill, I saw my opportunity and pushed him down it.

It gave me great satisfaction to see him tumbling. To see him get scratched and bruised by the cement-like clumps of earth. And when he reached bottom, I heard a strange and unexpected sound—Billy the Bully was crying. I gathered my books and continued to school.

I felt empowered in a way I never had before.

Billy never touched me again, and even made an awkward attempt at friendship. But the enduring lesson I took from that day was that there is a small group of people who respect and understand just one thing: force.

It is sad. And it is unfortunate. But it is true.

It is also something Barack Obama will never understand.

In his news conference responding to criticism over a deal he cut with Republicans, Obama defended the compromise by saying that he couldn’t have working-class Americans held hostage by Republican threats.

What he doesn’t get is that by repeatedly kowtowing to the bully, he extends and entrenches the bullying. And consequently, the desperate state of the country he is entrusted to lead.

Mr. President, it's time to push Billy Smith down the hill.

Can I Tell You Something, Mr. President?

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.


Best Regards,

La Piazza Gancio