To distract myself from impending dentistry I watched CNN (on mute). In a drooling Novocain haze, I saw two “topics” and analyzed the “cycles” that go with each topic.
Topic #1 was an image of books. That’s how the press communicates “judge” or “lawyer”. Clearly the topic was Kavanaugh. Supreme Court nominees (and recently every executive nomination) follow what I call “Preening in The Mirror”.
In stage A everyone picks a side. In 2018 this takes 5 minutes. Trump is (nominally) party R so party D opposes Kavanaugh like their very soul is at stake. They’re not entirely faking it. Kool-Aid drinkers are so invested that they really think their soul is determined by Congressional votes. Holy Screwtape! Whether the nominee is Socrates or Barney the Dinosaur, nobody changes their minds after this stage.
In Stage B opponents tear into the nominee like a pack of wolves. It starts by calling the nominee an idiot. There is no exception. The opposition always calls their adversary an idiot. If he has six PhDs and can cure cancer with the power of his mind some troglodyte who’s never had a job that didn’t come from connections will insult his or her intelligence. The “you’re an idiot” attack can readily draw blood. Not that any either is a genius, but Sara Palin and Dan Quayle got more shit than they deserved. Heck, Carter had a degree in physics but was dismissed as a “peanut farmer”. Maybe he was a lousy president but nobody with a journalism degree should mock someone who passed physics.
Stage C is “Preening in The Mirror”. If a Senator spends 20 minutes “questioning” the nominee without asking a question… that’s preening. This goes on until someone stops it or the entire world dies of boredom. If the nominee makes an unforced error Senators will swarm like a ham sandwich has been tossed in a piranha tank. Luckily, judges rarely make such errors.
Like getting pecked to death by ducks, the nominee must smile while nitwits ritually debase him. It’s embarrassing to watch but Senators love it. This is how you know Congress is filled with middle school playground bullies. The cruelty warns future nominees with a low bullshit tolerance to preemptively bow out.
“Preening” is also when the freaks come out. They’ll chant on the streets, burn a flag, throw a pie, hurl bricks at a Starbucks, get tased… that sort of shit. I haven’t watched the news but I assume pro choice protesters and maybe global warming people are “disrupting” hearings. For all I know alien abductees and vegan furries are taking their turn. 2018 is not a time of serious people. The press will mercilessly stalk and harass the nominee’s family and friends. The circus atmosphere creeps me out.
At stage D, opponents have a choice. They can vote like adults or go full retard. This year, full retard is a given. They’ll try rhetorical shenanigans. “Have you stopped beating your wife yet?” Perhaps a perjury trap. Senator Bullshit asks “Have you driven a Ford Lately?” The nominee says “No, I own a Toyota”. Then the Senator shrieks J’ACCUSE and documents that three years ago the nominee rented a Ford at an airport. “Given this photo of a Ford at the airport I conclude the nominee is a lying shithead who’s literally worse than Hitler’s ass crack. He can’t be trusted with the sacred Constitution I’ve been ignoring my whole career. I demand that everything start all over with some fresh meat! Nominate someone else for another round of ritualistic hazing!” Luckily, the third-rate mind of a politician rarely outwits a judge.
Stage E is the disgusting endgame. They dredge up and/or invent an “unexpected” sudden, unverifiable, impossible to defend against, accusation. It’s best of it’s something from a zillion years ago. It doesn’t have to be illegal but ideally it sounds weird (“Romney put a dog on the roof!”). Drug legalization means Bork getting Borked over smoking a joint wouldn’t get traction now. The tradition is unsupported accusations of sexual harassment that are unverifiable, possibly not even illegal, and exceed the statute of limitations.
Clarence Thomas is so grumpy plants won’t grow near him, but for one brief moment Congress compared him to a high-wattage sexaholic. “I’m shocked shocked by this unfounded accusation! Good thing I discovered it 72 hours before the confirmation vote.” Everyone knows it’s as legit as an e-mail from a Nigerian prince. (Note that a Clinton or a Kennedy might string together dozens of “incidents” but for Thomas it was only once.)
The hard part is guessing the subject of the inevitable unsupported accusation. Sex seems burned out. They’ve been throwing hookers at Trump for years and it’s not affecting his supporters. “Billionaires get blowjobs? Quelle surprise! All this time I thought supermodels materialized out of thin air around a billionaire because they were attracted to his mind.” Also, with the whole “MeToo” thing what male hasn’t been accused of sexual harassment? (Aside from Pence who’s carefully bulletproof and looks wiser every day.)
I decided to predict Stage E will come soon and it will be “he did something pathetic and stupid in college”. He’ll be accused of cheating on a test? Yeah, that sounds good. I’m calling it something academic from long ago.
Kavanaugh looks surprisingly young. Can they push the clock back to high school? But nobody cares if you cheat in high school. Underage drinking?
Also, they showed some protesters being dragged away. Stage C in progress is verified!
Only time will tell. Y’all keep an eye out for Stage E because that’s when you know it’s almost over. I predict an accusation from a biased source that’s probably not illegal and completely unverifiable. (It’ll be made by an NPR Reporter or some Senator’s wife or kid.) “This one time at band camp my best friend, who’s name I forget, told me that in 1983 Kavanaugh drank three Red Bulls and then peed on the college’s geraniums.”
That’s my prediction. Call me on it if I’m wrong.
Stage F is the vote. The vote will be identical to whatever would’ve happened at Stage A. Everything else was bullshit.
The Dentist came in, gave me more Novocain (thanks!) and left. I think she did someone else’s appointment to procrastinate on the bearded freak. I can’t blame her. I had time to observe further.
Topic #2 was a hurricane. Sweet! The “Never Let A Crisis Go To Waste” cycle is classic!
Stage A is the prediction of Armageddon. Usually pumped up with assumptions. If the storm hits while the tide is high, and at the same time hammerhead sharks are in mating season, then it’ll be the end of life as we know it. Bonus points for a total lack of rational limits. “This is because the sharks will breed with eagles and shark-eagles kill everything!”
Don’t forget the blame! If the president if party of R, it’s his fault. Even if the storm is in Botswana. Or in the case of George Bush Jr, a tsunami in the Indian Ocean. If none of that sticks, global warming caused it; which is due to your failure to buy a Prius. Jerk!
Stage B is the press standing in the rain and hamming it up. The “Dan Rather Moment”
The scene shifted and… Oh. My. God!
Some dude was standing next to a road sign and flopping around in the wind. The Dan Rather career move was right on time!
What fun! You go, weather dude!
I looked at the trees behind him. Gusty winds, but nothing that’ll jack up the balance on a grown man. Dude was a shitty actor. Stage B confirmed!
Stage C is when (some) Americans act like adults. The Cajun Navy, Waffle House, and Walmart handle things like a boss. This is a new addition to the cycle and I love it.
Stage D is wind down and allocation of free money. Rational citizens shrug; “it’s just fucking weather” and start mucking out basements. Politicians whine that their particular district no longer supports life. This can only be fixed with Federal funds. NPR blames the nearest Republican.
There’s one exception, Puerto Rico. Even New Orleans or Fukushima got back in the saddle but Puerto Rico is stuck in Stage D. I guess they can’t leave Stage D until they finally consume all the supplies from Hurricane Maria?
The dentist came in. She shoved the TV aside and whipped out whatever they call things that look like pliers.
Things happened. Trust me, you don’t want a description.
The aftermath in the next post.