This Week at Clown College

This week under the big top on Capital Hill, leaders of the respective political parties are dueling to out-farce each other in their displays of political theater. POTUS is letting anybody who will listen know that he is inviting dozens of Republican lawmakers to dine with him at the White House, where he will undoubtedly remind them of how badly they lost the election last fall. These highly publicized events are to show The People how hard he is working to reach a compromise, even though I'm not convinced he is. And for the Republican's part, Paul Ryan submitted the Republican's version of a budget yesterday. It should be regarded as noir humor at this point, in part because of what it's provisions would do to the US economy, but mostly because it has no chance of passing.

Let me gaze into my crystal ball and tell you what will happen next. Despite Obama's very showy display of political theater -- last month's whistle-stop tour to take his case to the people and this week's breaking bread with Republican leadership -- the Republican-controlled House will pass some version of this budget just so that they can complain about Obama's and Senate Democrats' refusal to solve the country's fiscal issues. They're not wrong, but they're also not helping. They are not negotiating in good faith. Both parties seem intent on acting like they're trying to solve this, without actually trying to solve it. It's like watching a team of monkeys and a team of clowns play each other in charades.

But why is this budget such a schlocky circus prank? I see four main reasons, none having anything to do with the advisability of the provisions:

1. It repeals The Affordable Care Act (Obamacare) outright. What's your pitch on this, House Repubs?

"Hey, Senate Democrats. Many of you have fought for universal healthcare coverage your whole careers. Most of you signed on to this legislation back in 2009 at significant political risk to your own careers, and many of your colleagues that voted for this lost their scalps in the aftermath. How about forgetting all the scars from that battle and passing this repeal.

Oh, and Mr. President, as you know, we hate Obamacare. Like, white hot hate. We know it's the signature accomplishment of your presidency, one that will be the foundation of history's treatment of you, and one that you spent the bulk of your post-election war chest of political capital to get passed. We know that you continued to campaign on its successful passage during last fall's election. And we know that by doing so, you won that election. But we'd take it as a great show of political fence-mending and good intentions if you'd follow the Senate's lead and repeal it. Because we hate it so much. Pretty please." 

Any proposal that includes a provision like this was never intended for anything but Red State Viagra. It's totally DOA.

2. It attempts to balance the budget in ten years without lifting a finger to reform Social Security. Everybody knows that the biggest elements of the federal budget are the safety net provisions: Medicare, Medicaid  and Social Security. Republicans will rail on about cutting spending and needing to "get our fiscal house in order." Here they show that they are no different from any politicians dependent on popular support for survival -- that's to say, panderers. Any serious reform to entitlements must include Social Security reform. Yet the R's won't touch it. Why? Because seniors are the only consistently loyal constituency they have left.

3. Lowers the top tax rate to 25%. The argument here will seem like a bit of a re-tread from #1, but remember the fiscal cliff-ocalypse just two months ago, the one that ended with raising the top tax rate by about 4% back to where it was before the Bush-era tax cuts? Well apparently Republicans would not only like to call a do-over. They want to reduce the top tax rate by an additional 10% from the Bush-era tax cut level.

"Let's just put all of the partisan bickering of the last few years behind us and agree that another 10% in the pockets of The Rich will be better for everybody. The sooner we do this, the sooner the free-market leprechauns can emerge from their cells in the evil Socialist redistribution camps and lead us all to our own individual pots of gold at the end of the Reagan Rainbow."

4.  Continues cutting non-defense discretionary budget (i.e., no cutting defense, Social Security, Medicare/caid). Remember the chainsaw budget mechanism called sequestration? How it was supposed to be so crazy, so damaging, that neither party would ever think of letting it go into law? Well they did it anyway. Because STARVE THE BEAST!! Yeah. Well. Ryan's budget proposes to balance the budget on the back of all remaining government programs, programs like veterans benefits, agriculture, national parks, natural resources, FDA, FAA, NIHS, CDC, infrastructure, law enforcement, justice department, commerce, state department. Et cetera, et cetera. And why? Because he's too cowed to even suggest putting Social Security on the table. I mean, discretionary spending as a part of the budget averaged 8.7% of GDP from 1972-2012. In fact, discretionary spending was below that average from 1992 until the 2008 recession. I assume it rose above that average as a result of the Bush-Obama stimulus packages enacted to combat the recession. But the percentage has again dropped below the 40-year average, and is on pace to drop to less than 6% of GDP by 2022. I have many friends that work in the federal government who are taking a 20% pay cut already because of sequestration. Those in essential services like the FBI or Diplomatic Protection don't get to take that time off as compensation. They work for free. Why are salaries at the Clown College immune from the sequestration? Seems to me they are nothing if not discretionary, especially lately. The way current leadership works, we could limit Congress to working two days a week and get better return on labor.

Ryan isn't a deficit hawk. He's not a national debt hawk. He's an ideologue. Ayn Rand is the only founding father that matters to him. Pretty sure he took his oath of office on a copy of Atlas Shrugged. You could argue that the House leadership's decision to appoint him chairman of the Budget Committee was their first, last, and only answer to any budget proposal that POTUS might make.

"We are happy to negotiate, so long as you agree to everything we demand. We're going to balance the budget by lowering taxes for rich people and corporations, cutting healthcare for poor and disabled people, kicking the burden for infrastructure and education down to the state level, and we're gonna do it all without touching Social Security. And we're gonna do it in just ten years. Because leprechauns."

It's like a non-stop political satire sitcom, with plots so ridiculous, even Stanley Kubrick couldn't have conceived of it. Yet this is the reality of our politics right now. Democracy is messy. But it's even messier with intractable ideologues at the controls.

       

A One-Sided Romance

So I'm taking a crack at writing a modern day picture book using animated gif files to illustrate the story. I thought "Who better to get feedback from than my Dogs of War?" So leave your thoughts/impressions in the comments.

Once upon a time, there was a boy who really wanted to get a job. However, he didn't want just any job. He wanted to work for Camelot. He could see that Camelot was a corpulent, indomitable organization. But he stepped up and gave it the ol' college try anyway, hoping just to get noticed.

And noticed he got. They immediately put him through all kinds of rigorous testing, giving him one ball to chase after another. He chased and fetched and chased and fetched, but on the final run, he mistimed his window and BLOWEE! He was shook loose from the pursuit.

He thought the mistimed pursuit had closed the window for him, so he decided to go to "Business School," where they taught him lots of interesting stuff, like how to convince people to buy more stuff, how to act successful, and how to play monkey-see, monkey-do.

  

He studied hard and learned to see the world in a different way. He did some window shopping on other jobs and even saw some that he really liked. He explored a few much closer than others, but in the end, he decided he wanted to go make the final leap into Camelot.

The remaining tests for getting into Camelot were very invasive. They poked and they prodded, jostled and pricked, and talked to his people about what makes him tick. They strapped him to a chair and made him feel like a big fat liar. And, most unfortunately for the boy, they discovered that he would never truly appreciate a rainbow, because his eyes were broken. So the journey of many years ended very badly for the boy when Camelot said, "Thanks, but no thanks."

This made the boy very sad for a while. He contemplated pulling his eyes out with an ice cream scoop and setting fire to them.

But blind, alone, and over-educated is no way to go through life, and sitting around feeling bad is not a solution. So the boy picked himself up, dusted himself off, and began preparing himself for the private sector job search.

He put on his best SEG and began reaching out to companies to regale them with tales of his immense Business Prowess. 

Hopefully someday soon, at least one of them will see past his damnable eyes and recognize that the boy might have something to offer.

And then together they will set out to convince the World that what they have is something really special. Prepare to rethink what you 'know' about yourself, World.

The End.

For [Potty] Shame!

Long-time Dogs of War know that I have a real anxiety about finding a new hair stylist. I kept a Marine Corps haircut for a year and a half for this very reason. Finally, around the time I graduated last summer -- after I had returned from the trauma of getting it cut in China without a translator -- a stylist friend offered to clean it up. Turns out my stylist friend had major skills. I went on a hair odyssey with her over the next nine months, working toward a Mad Men throwback. I've never trusted a stylist so much, which made the return to Denver that much more traumatic, knowing that I would have to find a new stylist.

I was in a quandary about where to go. I don't like paying upwards of $30-$50 every month for a haircut, but I don't trust the sheep shearers at Great Clips or the barbers in booty shorts at Knockouts. So I looked into some of the cheaper salon-style places housed in beauty supply stores like Ulta. I knew I would be the only man there, and I was okay with that. I'm secure in my manhood. Turns out their men's cuts are about the same price, so I bit the bullet and set up an appointment. I figured their stylists might take a little more pride in their work.

Unfortunately, I would never find out.

Just in case the stylist was available early, I arrived about ten minutes in advance and was shown to the seating area, where a woman was seated with her daughter of about eight. I sat down for all of two seconds before realizing I had a bit too much beverage in my system and I urgently needed to visit the restroom to throw some lightning bolts. The manager showed me to a door down the hall.

I gave the door knob a jiggle. Locked. No big. I can wait a minute. I stood patiently, observing the techniques of the stylists in hope of easing my anxiety. One minute stretched into five. I began to wonder if maybe the manager forgot to mention that needed a key. But no, the door finally opened. A teenage Ke$ha-shaped creature clad head-to-toe in pink shuffled its Uggs out to the lobby. I turned to step into the bathroom and was immediately swept up in a re-enactment from the movie Backdraft, as a scorching wave of sulfurous brimstone blew me back against the opposite wall.

WHAT THE EFF WAS THAT???

As I sat on the ground, my mind in disarray trying to wrestle the pieces of what had just happened into place, it dawned on me why the Ke$ha-It had been in there so long. How could such a diminutive creature be the source of such rank abomination? Unfortunately, the duration of Its feculent meditation put me in a dire situation and I had no choice but to lock myself in with the aftermath. One of the fringe benefits of running a lot is it develops strong lungs that allow you to hold your breath for long periods, which I proceeded to do.

Exiting the restroom in a smokey haze, my disbelief at what the It had done quickly gave way to a sort of glowering resentment. As I turned the corner to head back to my seat, I saw Uggs sitting next to the woman with the eight-year old. And the only seat left in the place was on the couch, right next to It. Reluctantly I perched myself, hands on knees, back ram-rod straight, beside It to await what was now sure to be a disastrous hair cut. Uggs didn't even glance in my direction, just sat there as if everything was normal. As if to say, "Just went Dresden on the restroom, guy. NO BIG DEAL." The longer I sat there, the smell still clawing the walls of my olfactories, the more incensed I became. I wanted to turn to It and say, "I know what you did."

Finally I could endure no more. I stepped to the counter and inquired as to how much longer I would have to share a space with "that thing over there." The manager studied the stylists for a moment and concluded that they were a little behind. I would have to wait another 20 minutes. Unacceptable. I gave an aggravated exhale to let the manager know of my displeasure at her answer. Then I narrowed my eyes and fixed my most judgmental gaze on Uggs to let It know what I thought of Its behavior before turning and making a huffy exit worthy of a much higher end salon. Fresh air has never tasted so good.