I watched PBS’s coverage of the Republican Nation Convention last week, and I’m watching the Democrat’s convention this week. And gavel to gavel, more’s the pity. I suppose there’s an entry in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders covering such behavior, probably under sadomasochism, or that old Catholic standby, scrupulosity.
I’m not sure I learned much from the Grand Old Party. They really really hate Hillary Clinton, and Chris Christie is gonna put her in jail when he becomes our Attorney General. Frankly, that will be a relief because, if Mrs. Clinton is in the slammer, we’ll get to see if Republicans have anything on their minds besides Clinton’s emails and Benghazi.
The biggest question was about Republican Party unity. Did the faithful unite? I think so; it was by far the largest gathering of victims since the Titanic sank. My goodness, what a weepy, fearful, and self-pitying bunch.
One of the oddities of the convention was the small crowd, and the lack of the usual party dignitaries. The few VIPs who did show up looked shell-shocked, and conspicuously avoided mentioning Trump’s name. However, Leslie Rutledge, our Attorney General, made an appearance and did a fine job showing the rest of the nation what the typical Arkansan looks and sounds like. How that played out for businesses seeking a state to relocate to with an employable workforce remains to be seen.
There was also much confused communication between the Convention Chairs and the State Delegations. Whether this was due to the Chair playing fast and loose with the rules, or to the cacophony of tiny voices speaking inside the heads of the delegates themselves, wasn’t clear. Maybe the whirring sounds of their parents spinning in their graves – decent Bob Dole and Dwight D. Eisenhower voters – accounted for the miscues.
The highlight of the convention was the Grand Wizard’s acceptance speech. He assured delegates they didn’t need to worry about being heartless, brainless, and cowardly. He has a “really huge” pair and promises to fearlessly and personally lead them down the Yellow Brick Road to American Greatness – and make the trains run on time, too.