The New Crucible

Hey it's how we got Rutherford B. Hayes

(And, okay, right, also how we put the kibosh on Reconstruction.)

So. The way to the Speakership of the House of Representatives is though intra-Republican humiliation. It's like a high-school movie where the cool-dude bully (that hair, that hair, it's great hair, there's no denying it's great hair, but he's been riding too long on that hair) gets beat up on by the uncool bullies.

            Let us consider this: If a presidential election is to be settled in the House, as Republicans tried to make this last one be, then this is how it would go.

Matt Gaetz, the king-maker.

Kevin McCarthy, the sacrificial lamb.

Trump flumpfing around in the background. Spiritual leader. (Taking to drink, at long last?) His sons, weeping. Their father always knew they were losers.

           Concessions, concessions, concessions. (Who’s got the popcorn concession? There’s this guy. You could see. I could, maybe, arrange something.)

And Santos is busy making stuff up. Don’t worry about him. He’ll come out of this all right. Cause the man has imagination!

           Tacky, tacky, tacky.