The Boehner of our lives

boehner

 

Will he cry the beloved country? Will there be tears before bedtime?

Or will it be cry me a river?

It’s quite clear that House Speaker John Boehner is a human being. Not only does he cry, but also plays golf. There are surely no two greater indicators of humanity.

Yet even he, now, looks at the world he inhabits and wonders just what sort of misbegotten souls live there — at least the ones in his own gated community.

All he tried to do was get his (con)patriots in the Pub Party to agree to raise taxes on those earning more than $1 million.

This was so eminently reasonable that it was like giving a 12-inch putt on the 18th after you’ve already crushed your opponent by 10 strokes.

Yet it seems that his fellow Pubs don’t see life that way.

At heart, they share the soul of football coaches like Pete Carroll.

Though coaches generally adhere to the concept of crushing opponents until their squished, squashed hearts are visible from Madagascar, many feel bad about running up the score.

They get to 48-0 and realize it’s time to bring in the backup quarterback, the third-string defensive end, even the loris-slow cornerback who might be playing his last ever game.

Carroll, on the other hand, still runs a fake punt when his team’s up by 30 points. Because, supposedly, it was in the game plan.

Never cutting taxes is permanently engraved in the Republican game plan. It’s as fundamental as, well, blocking their ears and shouting “Wah-wah-wah!” whenever a Democrat speaks.

Yet I suspect that at least some of those earning over $1 million are human beings. They wouldn’t go for the fake punt. They know they’re up at least 48-0. They can see themselves getting further and further ahead, when so many of their fellow humans are disappearing further and further beneath the shoreline.

They don’t necessarily feel sorry for them. But they know from winning. And they’re winning.

They also know that raising their taxes is little more than a symbolic gesture.

It’s like taking your hat off in church. It’s like waiting for your host to eat before you pick up your soup spoon and slurp.

It’s like opening the door for a widowed lady who lost her husband and life savings to a Madoff.

When the extremely rich have their taxes raised, how will they react? They won’t. But their accountants will.

They’ll propose a few alterations in their portfolios. They’ll wiggle an investment here, a declaration there and an offshore position in the corner.

The pain these people will suffer will be about as great as the pain Kim Kardashian suffers when she gets offered a mere $10,000 to retweet a picture of a purse.

I have a feeling John Boehner knows this. He knows that this is about a gesture, not a conjecture. He knows that this is a nod, not a full-body bow to a Socialist dictator.

Yet he can’t even persuade his fellow Republicans to bend their necks forward an inch. They stand, ramrod straight, their pride disregarding any chance of a fall.

Because if there’s a fall, it’s Boehner who will go down.

The remainder of his clan will stare straight ahead, like soldiers on parade who know one of their own riflemen has fainted.

He was just too weak, you see. A crybaby at heart.

 

(Image: CNN/YouTube. Screenshot: Chris Matyszczyk)

 

 

 

 

 

 

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