On the clutching

All right, a brief word about the pearl clutching.

I’m not going to argue that the Democrats’ singing wasn’t odious and crass. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t — I’m hardly the one you should look to regarding what qualifies as offensive or not.

I’m also not going to claim, in terms of their motives, that  I have anything to substantial to add to the conversation. I can only speculate. But here’s what I think: In a room filled with back-slapping, smug, self-satisfied tossers, the losing team has very few options for retaliation. I mean, you’ve already lost, so the best you can do is make the other guys less self-congratulatory.

All you can say is “you’ll be sorry.”

Which is what I think the Dems were trying to do. They want to plant a seed of doubt in the other reps; they want them to experience a twinge of selfish regret, a tiny pinprick of worry, something that might make them think to themselves, in the dead of the night, “Did I just make a mistake?”

It didn’t work, of course. Republicans don’t feel pity, or remorse, or fear. At best, the singing only caused the Republicans to slightly increase the blinding speed at which they were already rubbing their hands.

On the clutching

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