Bi, bi, Miss American pie
Princess Kyrsten and her Gollum-faced jester, Joe Manchin III (you mean there’s two more of him? Yikes!) once again took a great, big, gleeful dump on Joe Biden’s progressive agenda, to my mind far more proof than necessary that there’s got to be method to this madness.
They “supported” voting rights legislation, but went all fake-verklempt at the very thought of axing the filibuster rules because, to quote the Troll of Coal, you’re the “United States of America, not the divided States of America.” (As Seth Myers mischievously reminded us, Manchin is literally from a divided state, West Virginia.)
The voting rights bill, revised, by the way, to suit Manchin, combined elements of the two original bills, the first of which seeks to make voting easier for everyone—not just liberals!—and the second restoring parts of the landmark Voting Rights Act weakened by Supreme Court rulings.
Sinema, who kits up like a high-end stenographer out of the Sears catalogue to telegraph solidarity with her respectable, middle-class constituents, then has a few too many white wine coolers (I don’t know that for sure, it could be vodka stingers), and goes all Game of Thrones Barbie, complete with batwing sleeves and décolletage, to flash some boob and signal she’ll be a good sport at the political frat house, sold us the same line of malarkey about not creating more divisiveness, the cancer that is threatening the nation.
Because apparently the best way to counter divisiveness is to watch from the sidelines, pretending to be helpless as Republicans gut voting rights, and by preserving arcane, but apparently more important than voting rights, Senate traditions, in the end shoring up the Republicans’ unrelenting, bald-faced divisiveness.
Of course! Why did no one think of this before? Talk about your obvious, staring-you-in-the-face solutions!
Explained more simply, the two Senators supported voting rights but also refused to budge on changing the Senate filibuster rule, making it impossible for voting rights legislation to pass.
Is this the second or third time that Manchin has played the Dems for fools, holding out for endless negotiations and legislative changes, only to say “no” again? He’s like that bossy bottom at the S&M party who insists on three hours of being tied up in intricate, Japanese rope bondage, then uses the safe word the second you’re done and ready to put the alligator clamps on his nipples. Annoying!
As for Sinema, what can I say? She’s mastered the dark art of being “loud or lewd or lah-dee-dah-dee, everything to everybody”—and yes, Sondheim gave me permission—and the key is that shifty-slidey word “bisexual”.
I used to think “bisexual” was a real thing, defending the concept to uppity, short-sighted fellow fags who’d simper, “they’re gay but won’t say it!” And I still would… I think. Yet more and more, and not only on account of Sinema, I’m realizing it’s also used as a cop-out by closeted queers seeking to pass—a kind of “having their cock and eating it out, too”, so to speak.
Bisexual equals straight in the average, straight mind of society at large, because who wants the hard work of understanding and accepting diversity? Straights’ brains are currently so under siege from the transgender wars, they can barely cope with remembering “blue is for boys, pink is for girls” as it is.
Bisexual becomes a handy, performative label for the ambitious, like Sinema, a full-bore narcissist whose tawdry exhibitionism and exasperating illogic guarantees her a roomful of negative attention (when you live or die on attention, it doesn’t much matter if it’s high-quality). She’d run you over with her hybrid Prius if she thought it would get her on the evening news or stymie a Democrat.
Because she’s also a “bisexual” Democrat, at heart really a conservative, but unable to resist partying with a pipeful of progressivism, then waking up in a ditch, panties around her ankles and swearing off the stuff for another day.
Sinema has always insisted she’s not beholden to partisan loyalties, making her in effect an independent. Which begs the question: Why advertise yourself as a Democrat? (And why do Democrats fall for it?)
Sexual orientation, political orientation: in both ways she swings both ways. She’s an opportunist, a shape-shifter; the lipstick lesbian to a “t”. As a time-share queer, she profits from the edgy vibe, while really living in that respectable space of conformity. Her bisexuality is just something quirky, like her costume changes that keep you guessing; a meaningless label that gives trendy straights who’d like a little “open-minded” on their resume the cachet of being tolerant.
And Democrat is just another identity to slip on or off as convenient, giving Republicans a little frisson, like 1970’s suburban housewives throwing their keys into a hat—they’ll try anything once, even justice, just to remind themselves why they’re not into it.
Progressives never learn, and we never will. The very qualities that make us progressive— acceptance, kindness, the messiness of working together, a big, welcoming tent, a willingness to believe others’ truths and think the best of their intentions— work against the qualities we’d need to win against the ruthless, unprincipled and powerful.
Never trust a dyke without a toolbelt. And never trust a Democrat who won’t go to the wall for democracy.
Speaking of women who disappoint on an absolute equal par with men: How about Andrea Howarth, leader of Ontario’s New Democratic Party?
Yeah, me neither.
I was listening to her speech in the Ontario Legislature, which was posted on Facebook, the modern equivalent of throwing someone to the lions.
It was excruciating.
I really want to support the NDP and Andrea Horwath. And I hate to be unkind, but I can’t listen to her.
(What am I saying? I don’t hate to be unkind—it’s what I live for. Yes, I’m shallow and heartless but you made me this way.)
She’s so inarticulate, I get panicky wondering if she’s going to be able to finish her thought. I keep thinking she’s having a stroke. And then she grinds to ….a…. h..a..l….t. And then she chooses a weird word that’s not quite right…
I find I’m mouthing the words along with her, then when she stops, I stop too, with my mouth open, making the high-pitched encouraging noises you make when you’re doing “here comes the airplane into the hangar” for babyboo with a spoonful of Gerber asparagus.
“Ah…ah….AH…. THERE we go! Whoza whooza little NDP shnickums!”
It’s worse because she’s a woman, so of course the fate of all womankind is depending on her every utterance.
We all know the drill by now. If a woman is forceful, she’ll be “strident” or “a virago”. If she’s gentle and kind, she’ll be a “snowflake” or “dizzy” or have “no guts,” but if she has guts then she’s a “bitch.” If she’s emotional, she’s “hysterical,” if she takes our criticism to heart and reins in her emotions, she becomes “cold.”
Her wardrobe will be read for meaning like augurs used to read the entrails of chickens, her very cuticles will be examined, her achievements minimized, her sex life, if any, dredged up, at which point the whole shebang might just grind to a halt (what’s the definition of a slut? A woman with the morals of a man).
And if it doesn’t, any blunder she’s ever made will be put on top of the Great Big Pile of Female Blunders that kicks off with Eve, a put-up job if I ever saw one, and crashes upwards through history in slow-motion until it engulfs Liz Cheney like a giant display at William Ashley Fine China that had the table kicked out from under it.
Speaking of finding the life preserver after they’ve locked you down in third-class steerage, Liz Cheney, bless her, shows us how integrity is done post-Trump, when it no longer has the power to harm your career. As Trump’s shattering of every norm of decent behavior and contempt for democracy turned Ronald Reagan and George Bush into statesmen for the ages, so Liz, simply by not repeating outrageous lies or supporting insurrection, becomes the Betty White of the Republican Party: To appear brilliant when you’re really just kind of unexceptional, either be a pioneer in your profession or sane in the US.
How can we fix Andrea? Maybe they just need to work a little more on her machine learning features. Maybe she just needs some sleep! Maybe she needs an oil change! Maybe—
Andrea Droidwarth—I don’t doubt your sincerity. And I look forward to that great day, which I’m sure is just around the corner, when you pass the Turing test.