Driving in to work today, with my radio dutifully tuned to NPR, I suddenly found myself swearing up a storm: and not a single driver had cut me off, given me the finger or splashed muddy water onto my windshield. No, it was the voice on the radio that set me off.
They were talking about Judd Gregg — you know, the guy who just made an absolute fool of himself — withdrawing his name for commerce secretary. And insider conventional wisdom was flowing through my radio thicker (and in an even more disgusting fashion) than filth streaming from an open sewer. It seems, according to the official media talking points, that this has been — “yet another” — tremendous blow to Barack Obama. His attempts at bipartisanship are failing miserably — and because of this the Republicans are resurgent, having, in all their tiny minority glory, found their voice again.
All of which raises an interesting question: is finding one’s voice a good thing when you sound worse than, say, Tiny Tim?
I mean, give me a break. The vast majority of the American electorate, at least at this moment, can’t stand Republicans — and nonsense like this, whatever the major media thinks to the contrary, just makes it that much worse. Although, like most liberals, I’m less than enamored with Obama’s “post partisan” crusade, I do have enough sense to know that “winning” or “losing” on this subject has to do with public perception, not with how successful Obama is in actually winning over the collection of nuts who we euphemistically refer to as congressional Republicans.
And what again is the public’s perception of today’s GOP? Well, to be honest, I really can’t use that kind of language on a family oriented blog like this.
It’s getting to the point where I can barely stand tuning into conventional news sources, even comparatively worthy ones like NPR. It just does too much damage to my soul to listen to these overpaid and over-pampered talking heads mindlessly repeated vacant talking points — conventional “wisdom” that even the average goldfish would realize is nothing more than pure BS (I mean, really, how much Cokie Roberts is one mortal supposed to take?).
It puts me in mind of a song from long ago (and of a mind to change the words a little). Here’s the original version:
Little Boxes
Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky-tacky,
Little boxes, little boxes,
Little boxes, all the same.
There’s a green one and a pink one
There’s a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one
And they’re all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same.
Except for present purposes, let’s modify the lyrics like this:
Little Pundits
Little pundits on the boob tube
Little pundits made of ticky-tacky,
Little pundits, little pundits,
Little pundits, all the same.
They all blather out the same blow
Not a new thought in the bunch though
Baseless rumors at their hands grow
And they’re all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all sound just the same.
You know, the more I think about it, the more I hope the revolution isn’t televised. I don’t think I could stand the color commentary.