"The strength and power of despotism consists wholly in the fear of resistance"
In 1973, Nixon's Saturday Night Massacre hot-wired the American government, a palpable sense of outrage throwing a monkey wrench into into a political engine that was already sputtering from executive abuse.
Then, Republican leaders stood up to defend the Constitution, rather than their party. Men like Howard Baker, Lawrence Hogan, M. Caldwell Butler, and Barry Goldwater, far as their political ideologies were from their Democratic colleagues, understood their place in a fair and equitable government.
It's clear that today's Republican leadership lacks testicular fortitude to stand up for the institutions we depend on to protect our freedoms.
We can't depend on our political leaders to do anything, any longer, other than protect their own interests, and those of the corporate entities that keep them in place.
The truths about the President we see as evident, his deep-seated insecurity, his transparent dishonesty, his narcissism and total lack of comprehension of the job he has undertaken, are of no concern to the Republican leaders who can still use him to protect their collective flank while they deregulate, marginalize, and economically oppress.
My Senators are Lamar Alexander and Bob Corker, and my Congressman, Chuck Fleischmann.
Each is chickenshit to the core.
They are driven by fear and money. They don't give two shits about the Constitution they have been sworn to protect. They are venal, self-reverential, and wholly unconcerned with their constituency, except as a mindless bloc that will keep them in their positions because Jesus and guns and murdering babies and people getting all gay married and shit.
They refuse to respect us. So fuck them.
Until they feel the real anger that is out there, they cannot be reasoned with, or treated with the royal deference they have come to expect.
Send postcards to their office. Call them. Show up at their local office. Confront them when possible.
You see Chattanooga homeboy Bob Corker picking up a prescription, don't shake his hand and grin. Demand an answer for his reluctance or inability to stand up to a man who is hell-bent on turning the country into his personal company store.
When he refuses to give an answer (and he will), embarrass the little weasel.
Ask him if he's picking up the Viagra he can purchase with his taxpayer-funded insurance. Comment on his height, his mealy-mouthed cowardice, his lack of balls. Tell him his necktie looks like a scarf. Ask him if he can teach you a few handy Russian phrases. Troll that Lilliputian fucker to the point he tightens his tiny fists and smoke comes out his wee, little ears.
If you are still worried about the bounds of civility, consider that your insistence on following the Marquess of Queensberry rules just might be why you keep getting your teeth knocked down your throat in political street fights.
Keep up the pressure. Loud and profane.
"The fight has now commenced, go to fighting or get away"