It’s ironic that this song was out around the time the Democratic Party imploded the first time. That was before most of this generation of whiners was about, so they wouldn’t remember. What’s even more oxymoronic is that some of these kidults are even getting elected to fairly important positions in state Democratic party setups.
Great. Fine. Peachy keen and dandy. I’m all for boy wonders, but when you elect someone to a ranking position in the party structure, the last thing you expect them to do is whine and moan and bitch about the person who occupies the highest position in your party – namely, the President.
The last thing you’d expect someone in this position of authority to do is purse his lips, jut his chin in the air, cross his arms and stamp his feet, refusing to engage with anyone who tries to reason with him that the constant onslaught of incessant Obama criticism of every little thing is self-destructive. Not just to the President, but to the Party and supporters, themselves.
How the hell does anyone expect to encourage people to vote and to vote Democratic, if all they hear is a constant, pejorative whine about everything the President does or doesn’t do? I mean, who would want to vote for a person who’s so bad and shoddy?
The operative in question refuses to recognise that he’s the best secret weapon the Republican Party has. He’s actually doing their work for them. He openly admits that he doesn’t talk to ordinary people – “just activists and party operatives.” And even though he’s a Southerner, he wouldn’t touch the South with a barge pole, because it’s a well-known fact that “down there,” they “spit on anyone” resembling a Democrat.
And then, the piece de resistance of this child’s rejoinders comes when someone with some sound common sense reminds him that what we’re seeing now in the Republican Party didn’t happen overnight. It’s the result of 40 years of hard and slow work, building a base bottom up.
Mr EmoProg replies with a whine that he’s been working for long-term change too. He started with Dean and Kerry.
Hang on … Dean and Kerry?
Like seven years ago?
Seven years is batshit.
Seven years on from when the Republicans first started their dirty work, there was a popular Democratic President in the White House and a Democratic Congress. Did they get disheartened? Four years on from that, they had a Republican in the White House, endorsed by the unions and the votes of a demographic which became known as the “Reagan Democrats.”
And 12 years of awful Republican rule ensued, which put us on the Road to Hell we’re navigating now. That was still long enough to yank the country firmly enough to the Right.
Did I mention that the Democrats complied with this? Of course, they did. The Republicans started demonising “Liberals,” so the Leftwing branch of the Democratic Party started referring to themselves as “Progressives” – ne’mind “progressivism” was originally a Republican concept.
The Republicans used Jimmy Carters abortive attempt to free the hostages in Iran as evidence that the Democrats were weak on defence, and they backed that up eight years later with a famous clip of the Democratic candidate, Michael Dukakis looking like Secret Squirrel crawling around in a tank. Dukakis provided their Chief Ratfucker, the late Lee Atwater with more cannon fodder about the Democrats’ perceived weakness on crime with this little gem:-
And then, there was the little matter of Democrats being morally weak, when the Crown Prince of Progressivism was captured on film being snuggled by his girlfriend who was young enough to be his daughter.
In case, young Mr EmoProg was too young to recognise or remember this incident, Gary Hart was the Democrats’ great Progressive hope for President, just like Johnnie Reid Edwards was 20 years later; and both were scuppered for the same reason.
Working long-term, too, Sonny Jim, doesn’t mean running around and handing out leaflets every four years for whatever Democrat you think might be the next Progressives’ wet dream. It means starting, BOTTOM UP. Starting small. The PTA or dog-catcher, then the town council. It means years and years of engaging with people you think spit on you, engaging on their level and not in a condescending way. Who the hell listens to anyone who condescends? People want to bop a fist on the nose of such supercilious bastards. Working long-term means learning to speak the language of your target audience and showing them that you’re no different from what they are.
It’s not so difficult. If they’re afraid that universal healthcare is “socialised medicine,” then ask them if they’d like to have a doctor’s appointment and not pay a fee on the day, or ask them if they had to go to hospital, how would they like NOT to see a bill? (Of course, your hard bit is going to be explaining how taxes would have to be raised to accommodate that, but if you get them to see that universal healthcare might actually improve their plight, you’ve scored an important point.)
Long-term, too, is voting for McGovern, when you really weren’t all that turned-on by the man, knowing that he was going to suffer a rout; voting for Carter twice; voting for Mondale and Dukakis and Clinton, and clinging onto hope for Gore when you know that election was fucked through the combined chicanery of the Bush Machine in Florida, Ralph Nader and the celebrity dumbasses who promoted him, and – ultimately – the Supreme Court. And long-term is listening to what candidates say and not projecting your political wants and desires on what you perceive to be their tabula rasa. That’s not smart. In fact, that’s downright immature.
And long-term is not worrrying about who the hell is going to be President and why he’s not as Leftwing as you’d like him to be. It’s this simple message: If you want a more liberal Democratic President, you need to elect a more liberal Congress.
That’s where the hard work comes in.