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Republicans Are Losers, So Make Sure They Lose

Karl Rove is not a genius.  He’s an asshole.

Look at all this shit we’ve been through these last five and a half years.  The NIE tells us what we already knew.  Not only has every rationale for the invasion and occupation of Iraq been discredited (I’m with Atrios:  I still want to know why we really went), but it’s now official that we’ve made our security situation worse by going.  You know the litany:  more terrorists that we train for the bad guys with our guys and gals as live targets, more ill will and terrorist recruiting based on our imperialistic occupation, an overstretched and crumbling military insufficiently supported by our government, a resurgent Taliban in Afghanistan. . . should I stop there?

Bill Clinton is a flawed man and too clever a habitual triangulator by half, but he did pull back the curtain last weekend on the cowardice and mendacity of Republicans and their claims to being the party of the big, swinging national security phallus.  Equally as important, he attacked the cowardice and dishonesty of the our media establishment.  Good for him, but that does not give him a pass for when he thinks he can provide cover to bad people and their agendas.

Let’s hope other Democrats continue to figure out that picking a real fight with the media and with these loser Republicans is not only good on the substance, it’s damned good politics.  When you attack the media and make those self-absorbed guardians of the national discourse part of the story, you break through their habitually snickering, narcissistic filter.  They can’t help but go with the story, if only to clutch the pearls and tut tut about your passion.  Just ask Sid Blumenthal.

Fuck ’em. 

Republicans are losers, so let’s make sure they lose.  Though I live in Virginia and write for this blog, I stayed out of the VA Senate primary because the campaigns of both Dems were a muddle to me.  I always hated the functionally, mentally disabled bigot George Allen, but I had not seen enough of Webb to feel that I could really get behind him, or explain to readers here why he was worth fighting for in the trenches.  That’s over now.  As I did for Tim Kaine, I’ll put some time in phone banking for Webb.  He’s not one of our Blue America candidates, but I’m getting behind him, with my time and here in public:  not just against Allen, but for Webb.  Why?  One word:  accountability.

I’m with Christy:  I’m asking everyone reading this to grab a pitchfork, pick a candidate and phone bank, volunteer, walk precincts, become a poll watcher, register voters, whatever you can do, but do something.  It’s not enough to read anymore:  we must continue to do, as thousands of you reading this already are.  Time magazine thinks we’re just figuring this out, though we’ve been doing it all along.  The only difference now is we’re significantly multiplying our numbers, adding energized participants to the political process, and training little guerrilla forces of progressives to get active and connected all across the country.  Be afraid, David Broder, be very fucking afraid, or just retire your saggy ass.

None of this means we’re compromising on torture.  Here’s a public service announcement to any Dem presidential hopeful for ’08:  if you get wrong on this torture vote, don’t come knocking on my door for support next year.  You think I’m kidding?  Try me. 

Until November, we need to beat the snot out of loser Republicans, making sure they lose.  After that, we’ll hold hearings and simultaneously deal with some of our own (ahem) family business.  Republicans are losers, baby, and the way to kill a political movement starts at the ballot box, and especially before, as we organize to get others to the ballot box.

Who’s with me? 

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Pachacutec

Pachacutec

Pachacutec did not, as is commonly believed, die in 1471. To escape the tragic sight of his successors screwing up the Inca Empire he’d built, he fled east into the Amazon rain forest, where he began chewing lots of funky roots to get higher than Hunter Thompson ever dared. Oddly, these roots gave him not only a killer buzz, but also prolonged his life beyond what any other mortal has known, excluding Novakula. Whatever his doubts of the utility of living long enough to see old friends pop up in museums as mummies, or witness the bizarrely compelling spectacle of Katherine Harris, he’s learned a thing or two along the way. For one thing, he’s learned the importance of not letting morons run a country, having watched the Inca Empire suffer many civil wars requiring the eventual ruler to gain support from the priests and the national military. He now works during fleeting sober moments to build a vibrant progressive movement sufficiently strong and sustainable to drive a pointed stake through the heart of American “conservatism” forever. He enjoys a gay marriage, classic jazz and roots for the New York Mets.

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