One of Missouri’s dim bulbs is making a mark.
Today, from the great Charles P. Pierce:
Josh Hawley Is the Thirstiest Man in Washington, D.C.
In a town full of thirsty people, Josh Hawley is crawling across the Kalahari. Meanwhile, he and every other senator knows the president* is guilty as sin.
By Charles P. Pierce
Jan 22, 2020
WASHINGTON—Let me tell you something I know for certain. Listen, for this thing is true. There is a rookie U.S. Senator named Josh Hawley. He comes from Missouri and he is a Republican. He replaced MSNBC’s Claire McCaskill, who was a nominal Democrat, because Missouri is one of those states that has steadily lost its mind over the last two decades, which we’re not supposed to notice because it is impolite to all those nice people who carried the prion disease into our politics. Anyway, in a town full of thirsty people, Josh Hawley is a man crawling across the Kalahari. And this is the thing that I know for certain. The most dangerous place to stand in Washington D.C. is any place between Senator Josh Hawley and a live microphone….
Around midday on Wednesday, there was a bank of microphones and an exaltation of television cameras in the basement of the Capitol, where the little trams disgorge senators on their way to the chamber from their various office buildings. This is prime quote-stalking territory, even with the ludicrous restrictions that have been put in place, especially for these impeachment days. The microphones and cameras had been lined up for a scheduled press conference with the House managers of the impeachment trial. They were running a little late. Meanwhile, Hawley got off the tram, spotted the microphones and cameras, and reacted like a wolverine in a meat locker. His closing speed was nothing short of stunning. He was already at full boil by the time he’d reached his mark.
The people in the first rows of the galleries leaned over a little further, and the people in the rows behind them stretched and craned their necks. Down and to Schiff’s left, Mitch McConnell was holding the arms of his chair so tightly that his knuckles went bloodless and his lips were clenched tighter than his fingers were. You could not have pulled a pin out of McConnell’s ass with a tractor.
It was only a moment, and it passed, and McConnell soon slipped back into the placid mien of The Man Who Has The Votes. But the president* is guilty as sin, and they all know it, and they all know they can’t do anything about it because more senators don’t want to do anything about than do want to do anything about it. But the president* is as guilty as Jesse James, and they all know it. Every one of them knows it. They have to decide if they can live with that knowledge, and the tragedy is that they get to decide whether we have to live with it, too.
Go. Read the whole thing.
What a putz.