Sen. Arlen “The In” Specter, after casting a vote against Pres Obama’s budget, made this anything-but-startling statement an interview yesterday:
“I’m interested in staying in the Senate, for good reason,” Specter said.
For good reason, all right. These guys (and gals) in the Senate are so deeply in love with themselves, their perks, their sycophants (lobbying and otherwise), their courtesans, and their self-proclaimed role as a “deliberative body” (OPEC is also a deliberative body, as were Tony Soprano’s pals at the Ba Da Bing) that you usually have to carry them out of the Senate chamber feet first. Even a Parliament of Whores has a hierarchy, and the U.S. Senate is our House of Whorelords.
Look at soon-officially-to-be ex-Senator Norm “Bituminous” Coleman, as one example. The guy would give up anything to claw back the Senate seat he snatched from atop the late Sen. Paul Wellstone’s grave.
Here’s a good example 0f how this system works:
A Cabinet appointee shows up to be confirmed by Specter, Sen. Harry “I’m Not Dead Yet” Byrd and their deeply deliberative cronies, um, Honorable Colleagues.
First and foremost, you tell the Esteemed Senators how important and how wise they are. You basically spend two or three days kissing their butts, repeating to them How Very Special they are, paying homage and tribute, telling them how much you value their learned opinions.
Only then, they may — or may not — deign to confirm you. Even one of their recent graduates, Secretary of State nominee Hillary Clinton, had to play the fealty game not long ago.
Don’t believe me? Watch a Senate confirmation hearing on C-SPAN some time. The script here never varies: Kiss butt. Kiss more butt. Tell these people how special they are. If you disagree with their crackpot views, put any differences you may have on “Mute.” I’ve seen stand-up comedians who are less needy than U.S. Senators. Render unto Caesar what is Sid Caesar’s.
Byrd, to use the latest example, may indeed be carried out feet first. And soon.
But as we know, it’s not so easy to get rid of the other Senators, a disproportionate number of whom are from the rural, red “Deliverance” states, thanks to the founding Fathers who Knew Best.
The Senators love it atop what they assume to be Olympus. And when they’re pushed off, they never quite get over their pathetic, lingering delusions of grandeur.
Then, they start working the street, where they feel most comfortable.