The Passing Parade: Cheap Shots from a Drive By Mind

"...difficile est saturam non scribere. Nam quis iniquae tam patiens urbis, tam ferreus, ut teneat se..." " is hard not to write Satire. For who is so tolerant of the unjust City, so steeled, that he can restrain himself... Juvenal, The Satires (1.30-32)

Thursday, October 24, 2019


A gaggle of Republican Congressmen (what is the proper collective noun for a member of Congress, I wonder? A congress of Congressmen seems redundant, whereas a murder of Congressmen seems more than a little hostile, but that’s just my opinion) forced their way into the super-secret classified room in which the Impeachment Inquisition is holding its demonic rites and demanded that the proceedings be made open to the public, among other important things—they did order pizza, for example, and ordering pizza is always a very important thing, although there is no record of who ordered the slice with the anchovies and pineapple; clearly some distinguished gentlemen  from a state somewhere west of the Mississippi River who doesn't know any better.  The Grand Inquisitor, Mr. Schiff of California, a man who could not inspire terror in a lame housefly even when holding a can of Raid and a sawed-off shotgun, promptly closed down the testimony of some spavined State Department bureaucrat muttering about how the Ukraine girls really knock him out, and demanded that the Republicans leave the West behind.  Tempers flared again today when the Impeachment Inquisition announced that the Republicans had, horror of horrors, actually used their cellphones and other personal electronic devices while in the super-secret classified room eating their pizza. The Democratic Party’s sudden devotion to the procedures for handling classified materials and areas is welcome, albeit slightly suspect; I do not recall this devotion to the letter of the law when Mrs. Clinton was letting a plethora of classified cats out of the bag with her personal email server, but perhaps my memory fails me. In any case, the Democrats’ screeching about the violation of their sanctum sanctorum is a little hard to take seriously. The whines emanating from Capitol Hill about the violation of security protocols frankly remind me of a drug dealer complaining that the cops ignored the Keep Off The Grass sign in his yard on their way into his house.

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