I read
the released FISA memo last Friday night, and since then have been mulling over how bright-yellow-gaudy-outrageous the whole thing is. And by outrageous, I mean horrific from the outset, and getting worse with each passing day. And by worse, I mean more yellow. Right now it is like a bushel basket full of jaundiced canaries. It is like that headache that Wodehouse described once, the one that started at the ankles and got worse going up. So this is not a dumpster fire. This is not a grease fire.
This is a dumpster-full-of-grease-fire.
For the remainder of this rant, I would request that my readers not attempt to interrupt me with any words or gestures calculated to soothe. This is no time for sootheries. And don't tell me I am using too many metaphors. My metaphors have all joined hands and are full of strange oaths. They are dancing around in a circle with a dangerous kind of gleam in their eyes.
Allow me to attempt my part in explaining the level of corruption involved in all of this. The issue is not what was done in private by various officials. There have always been dirty deeds done in secret. Politics has always been dirty, and it has always been this dirty. For those who are shocked, shocked, that this could possibly have happened, somebody needs to get them their hospitality basket and say, "Welcome to earth, kid."
The terrifying issue is what is being done, now, on a massive scale, by respectable people, in public, right out in front of everybody. The issue is not that there was a cancer deep in the innards of the Republic. That happens from time to time. The true measure of our corruption is how the establishment johnnies are reacting now that the corruption has been made known. Every large nation has always had people doing things in back rooms that were better left undone. The problem, the crisis, is that massive numbers of people, well placed and hell-bent on brazening it out, are trying to shrug the whole thing off.
Comment: And the clock inches over closer to midnight. See also: