Those who are accustomed to the language of punditry know that when a candidate or office holder is said to “pivot,” this means that he has double-crossed somebody, most usually the people who elected him. “Pivoting” is a nice way of saying that I am going to go off and do something else now. “Something else? What do you mean, something else?” “I mean something other than what I said I was going to do.”
Newt Gingrich pivots so much that, if he is nominated or elected, I will be tempted to conclude that the hokey pokey is what it’s all about.
But my purpose here is not to whine about a particular candidate, not even candidates who rhyme with Beaut. I want to note, for your edification and amusement, that candidates are not the only entities in the world that can “pivot.” The ruling class knows how to pivot also. I have in mind here the Republican quadrant of the ruling class. Let me give you just a couple examples of their world-class pivotality.
The first has to do with spending, and the second with energy independence. These are not stand-alone outrages, they are representative outrages. Why would they not be representative outrages when they are performed, in excelsis, by our representatives?
As we should all know by now, our leaders, our rulers, our betters, are all on a spending toot that shows no sign of letting up. And by “not letting up” I mean that it is something more like “a spending tootrillions.” A thin green rocket line shoots up into the night sky, speeding toward an eschatological Ragnarok, and we wait to see the bright green chrysanthemum of federal reserve notes, the size of one of Jupiter’s moons, soon to sprinkle us all with the magic of stimulus. But, comes the dawn, all we have are pictures of dead presidents all over our lawns, with the edges burnt and singed. Yay.
Congress is like Rasputin on a manic high with no meds or revolvers in sight. Congress is like a three-year-old boy who got into a baker’s dozen of Krispy Kremes and who, having put most of them away, is now waiting for the sugar rush to hit so that we can all see what public service really looks like.
Just as a side note, some Republicans are saying that if the sequestration of funds happens, a result of the failed supercommittee, and our military fails to swoll up at the required rates of expansion, it will be disaster on stilts. Really? Then who was it that gave the power to this supercommittee to do this heinous thing . . . oh, it was you guys? Never mind.
Back to the whole Congress. They vote, and the national treasure goes away with a whoosh. They assemble for press conferences, and look like a row of murderers who successfully got rid of the body. They conduct interviews on the television with the mien of an archbishop blessing the pilgrims, when they have just, ten minutes before, voted to spend all the money that your great-grandchildren will have earned in the year 2075. If there is one thing I cannot fathom (or abide) it is pirates acting like archbishops. It strikes a jarring note.
Let’s talk about energy independence. My entire adult life I have been listening to politicians promise to work for energy independence. Just so’s we’re clear, we live on a continent that is so rich in energy that we could light and heat the whole planet for the next millennium or two. Whether we are talking about coal, natural gas, or oil, we could run circles around the Saudis, waving our hands in the air. So what is the principle obstacle that stands in the way of our energy independence? Why, it’s Congress! The people making all the vows and promises are the very ones who make it impossible. They are the only ones who make it impossible. They are the only obstacle. And so, every two years, they promise to work toward energy independence, and they have been doing this for decades. Give them time. Show some patience, champ. Just like Lucy and the football, hope springs eternal in the cranium of the blockhead. In case you were having trouble following my argument, the voter collective is Charlie Brown.
Now I quite understand that making fun of Congress is a low cost endeavor. Their approval ratings are a collection of oil-soaked rags, in a pile down by the national sump pump. But the next point is worth meditating on. We elect them. They are our representatives. Furthermore, they represent us well.
When someone finally gets a big enough rake to pile up the full measure of congressional mendacity, we will walk around it marveling like the Queen of Sheba, shaking our heads and saying that the half had not been told us.
Are they two chambers full of wet smacks? They represent us well. Are they human streptococci? They represent us well. Are they the national pest house? TRUW. Are they a legislative leper colony? TRUW. Are they a festering Gehenna of bad ideas? TRUW. When they are in session, do they give the populace an eyeful? TRUW.
All too TRUW.