By John Burtis
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Erwin Schrdinger's famous paradigm about the box and a cat has resurfaced again because of a sudden illness in the US Senate.
Tim Johnson's discomfiture comes at a bad time; for his family, for the holidays, and especially for fellow Senator Harry Reid, the Democratic Majority Leader.
While incapacity and stroke are never pretty and are always best left to the privacy of the family, it simply no longer happens when national politics are involved.
In today's impolite world, covered with what passes for 24/7 news, peppered with the off color comments from television pseudo-journalists, papered over with the coop filling idiocy spewed by the New York Times, drenched in the same illicit homilies found at the immortal sideshow of a fraud of the Wellstone “funeral,” with the remaining few minutes of every day packed as tightly as a howitzer with the absolute blarney peddled by politicians of every ilk, the news of Senator Johnson's sudden brain hemorrhage became instant headlines and threw the two major political parties into an uproar.
and when the severity of the illness became known, Johnson, Reid, america, and the world entered that shadow land of quantum physics made immortal by Erwin Schrdinger and his famous thought experiment involving the cat.
Imagine a box, or the US Senate for that matter. Inside the box is a cat, or a senator. at some completely random interval of time, a tragedy will befall the cat or the senator while they are both out of sight inside the box. and, until the box is opened by the observers, the cat and the senator are both alive and dead at the same time.
So it is with both teams of observers – the Republicans and the Democrats.
The Republicans, needing another party member to give a tie to Dick Cheney to break, see Senator Johnson as dead.
While Harry Reid, who claims to have spent that first night in the hospital with Senator Johnson guarding him against the predations of the other team of observers who might enter and find him dead, believes that poor benighted man is alive, whether he is or not.
and, going one further, Harry Reid is also sure that even if Senator Johnson should be totally and permanently incapacitated, or even succumb to his illness, he will remain alive according the immutable laws Mr. Reid now claims govern matter, in both physics and senate rules.
While the Republicans are certainly willing to let nature and quantum physics take their course, Majority Leader Reid, and the leading members of his party, steeped as they are in the arcane Democratic lore of the voodoo voting dead, who arise every other November to wreak their electoral havoc, will not allow the Republican governor of South Dakota to name a successor. Or if one is named, will not allow him to be seated because Johnson will be alive even is he isn't.
Rather than submit to this obvious loss of face and vote, Harry Reid will wheel either the gurney with ailing senator lashed aboard or his coffin into the senate for every possible vote to keep Dick Cheney out of the bubbling progressive witches' brew.
Just as the ballots of the dearly departed in New Jersey are always counted because their next of kin knew how they would've voted, so either a giddy or a grieving Harry Reid will always be ready to cast whatever votes will be called for from Senator Johnson whether he is alive or dead, for as long as necessary, bring the flowers onto the senate floor, and what the hell.
I mean, really, Harry Reid and his key boyos and lackeys, like Pat “Leaky” Leahy and Ted “Hello, Hello” Kennedy, are not about to let the US Senate - after all the lies they've peddled, all the off color burlesque they've performed, all the terror mongers they've trucked with, all the shills they've bankrolled, all the tommyrot they've heard from Chuck Schumer, all the ordure they've hurled, all the bunk they've shoveled, and all the crap they've taken for the past twelve years – fall into the hands of Dick Cheney, Halliburton, and little oil.
Speaking of unique juxtapositions, remember that Dick Cheney shot Harry Whittington earlier this year in a hunting accident, and that much was made about his name, and its similarity to Dick Whittington, who also owned a cat.
and if there's one thing Harry Reid can't stand, it's any affinity with the Whittington caper, which nearly delivered the vice presidency to the Democrats, shook the houses of the Republicans to their core, and threatened to crush Bush before the hoodwinked electorate finally changed america's course to one of abject retreat, appeasement, and the building of new bridges to Harry's land.
No, it is time for Harry Reid to act decisively, even if this means hauling a gravely ill man into the senate for a vote with his I.V. bottles and all, while claiming that he, Harry, is the only one who can understand his barely whispered or signed wishes, and then, if push comes to shove and the situation goes south, employ the Democratic trick of the dead.
It is 2006, and the rest of the world will be treated to more amazing high jinks, slight of hand, and outright mummery from the new Democrats than even Kofi annan, fresh from the most obscene scandals in world history, despite his failing memory about Benan Sevon's misbehavior and his own son's knavery, ever thought possible.
Bring on the box, cat, and the whips and chairs, the Democrats are holding court under the big top.
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