Wednesday, March 15, 2006

Boltgirl Succumbs to the Angst

Good lord, is it even worth dissecting the news on a daily basis, cooking up two or threescore words distilling the latest outrage and a reasonable response thereto? It's pointless. Nothing changes. If you're reading this, you are simply the choir being preached to; I doubt many folks holding views contradictory to mine stick around here for long.

So Russ (saints preserve him) introduces a censure resolution, nothing too out there or off the wall, simply stating that the president knowingly did an end-run around the law with the domestic wiretapping program, and needs to be held accountable for that. He does this in the same week W's approval rating shivers down to the intersection of 35th and Outta Here, which means that not only Dems but Republicans and Greens and Independents and your local prairie dog colony disapprove of the man, so his fellow congressional Democrats... scuttle away from the bright light muttering about not wanting to alienate the fence-sitters before the next election. Not wanting to look partisan, reactionary, and extremist. As if being partisan, reactionary, and extremist has done anything for the Republicans but return them control of all three branches of the government.

Harry Reid, our feckless Minority Leader, said censure was too extreme at this point, because he wants to wait for the investigation of the wiretap program to be completed before determining a course of action. Uh, Senator Reid? ::poke poke:: There is no investigation. The Intelligence Committee voted along party lines to not investigate the program and exactly how badly it shreds the FISA statutes (big thank you going out to "moderate" Republicans Snowe and DeWine on that one; you set my heart all a-flutter!). You are waiting for Godot here. He ain't showing up.

So what's the point? The only guy in the Senate with a conscience leads the charge, only to look over his shoulder to find the rest of the cavalry back in the stables with their feet up, sipping a refreshing beverage, rattling the bunco dice. Hey, fellas? Russ isn't going after windmills here. They're bona fide dragons coming off a vodka-and-habanero-poppers lunch, and since you won't get off your sorry asses we're all going to be toast.

No comments: