Does the Monkey Really Care?

On syndromes and mess

“Nobody wants to be a rubber stamp,” says Representative Thomas Massie, a Republican of Kentucky. “You can get a monkey to do this job.”

Well. I am quick to agree with Massie that Republicans in Congress have been abjectly going along with whatever strikes Trump’s fancy at the moment --

But while we are at it here, let’s take a quick look at the term, “Trump’s fancy.”

If you dropped down from Mars, and said as expected, “Take you to your leader,” and then took a look at the proffered Trump, and heard him speak, wouldn’t you say, “Uh, excuse us, but can you take us to the real one”?

And these are beings with green skin and big googly eyes! They see us all, even George Cooney, as bizarre. But this fella. . . !

Enough. I don’t want to succumb to what Republicans call “Trump Derangement Syndrome”--

Though I might say this:

Surely the logical sufferer of that syndrome is someone who does Trump’s bidding. It’s been clever of Republicans to accuse Trump’s critics of being deranged. As if your dog kept biting your neighbor, and you kept accusing the neighbor of having a thing about dogs. Which, come to think of it, is something bad-dog-owners do. So look at it this way: If Jeffrey Epstein were alive among us (feh, feh) today, would he be encouraged to accuse his victims of falling into “Epstein derangement syndrome”? If Mussolini . . .

But the statement by Rep. Massie is enough to concern us here. “A lot of intelligent, hard-working people came to Congress only to find out that all they get to do is come here and rubber stamp whatever Donald Trump wants, and that’s kind of irritating.”

Irritating! Irritating, is it? Your dog keeps biting me, and howling all night, and ransacking my larder to boot, and I find it just irritating?

I am inclined to think of Rep. Massie as one who stands up to the bad dog in this way:

“Ya big bad-ass! We know how great you are, but give us a little breathing room -- the illusion of independence, even an occasional bone of our own -- which would only enhance your greatness.”

I’ve gotten off into dog talk, and what I set out to do was examine Massie’s “rubber stamp” image.

So. I Googled, “Is Rep. Massie, by rendering the term ‘rubber stamp’ as a prejorative, undermining the rubber stamp business?”

Google suggested I “dive deeper in AI mode.” So I did. AI assured me that “the phrase is a political idiom used in the context of recent U.S. politics and does not refer to a physical stamp for sale or a specific product.”

“Yes,” I replied. “But -- “

“There is no evidence to suggest that the pejorative use of the term ‘rubber stamp’ has hurt the actual rubber stamp business. The pejorative term is widely understood as a political or business metaphor for perfunctory approval, which is distinct from the physical product and its practical applications . . . The pejorative meaning is widely recognized as a figurative use of the phrase, separate from the physical item’s utility.”

And here we go with the promotional angle. A. I.:

“When L. F. Witherell first glued rubber to a bedpost in 1866, he likely didn’t imagine that invention would still be in use over 150 years later... Today’s rubber stamps are more customizable, efficent, and precise than ever -- but they’re still doing what Witherell set out to do back then.”

The bedpost angle is one I wanted to pursue the -- why a bedpost? What was L. F.’s marriage like? But I could feel A.I. was tiring of me. And after all this was the most burning question lurking in Rep. Massie’s statement, so — in one last appeal to A. I. — I raised it:

“What would happen if a monkey got ahold of a rubber stamp. (And ink.)”

A. I.’s reply:

If a monkey got ahold of a rubber stamp and ink pad, the likely outcome would be a scene of enthusiastic, uncoordinated, and messy ‘artwork.’ Here is what might happen:

Exploratorial Behavior: Monkeys are naturally curious and exploratory. They would likely investigate the items by sniffing, licking, and possibly chewing the stamp’s wooden handle or rubber surface. The ink pad might be poked at and handled roughly to see what it does.

Chaotic Stamping: The monkey would likely discover the cause-and-effect of pressing the stamp onto different surfaces. This would not be neat and tidy; you would end up with random, overlapping, and likely smudged prints all over any available paper, the floor, the walls, and probably the monkey itself.

Widespread Mess: Ink would likely go everywhere. Monkeys might drop the ink pad, step in it, or smear it with their hands, quickly spreading the ink beyond the stamping area and psotentially even onto their fur.

Short Attention Span: The activity would probably last until the novelty wore off, the ink pad dried out, or the monkey became distracted by something else (like food or a noise).

Essentially, the result would be a chaotic, vibrant, and unique display of primate expression that falls somewhere between abstract art and a serious cleanup job.

I guess so. A.I. would know. So the next time I talk to a Republican Congressperson, I’m going to call them a “Chaotic Stamper.”

.