I wasn't going to post any blog today, but I caught sight of the Senate debate on the Stimulus Package and I just had to vent my spleen.
Lindsey Graham, mouthpiece of McCain chicanery, was blowing hot air in a desperate and, at times, condescending attempt at filibuster in order to scupper the President's economic recovery plan. The minute I clued into this, reminded me of why I turned my back on Southern manhood collectively and sought refuge in the arms of the British. As in any chemical reaction, opposites attract, and when I was young and foolish, I was young and foolish and often found myself, at university, in two rather serious relationships with Southern boys of the Republican persuasion. They had the charm, they had the manners, they talked the talk and - on occasion -they walked the walk too. But they had an ugly side to them and it reared its ugly head again today in Lindsey's petulant performance on the floor of the Senate. I spewed my gin and tonic when he actually used incorrect grammar ('ain't')! It wasn't even deliberately rhetorical, I actually think it was a genuine rube slip-up. It showed his crackerness; it was embarrassing.
He acted like a spoiled bubba who didn't get his just desserts. He was patronising to the President as a man and he dissed Barbara Boxer, who was classy enough to school him on his inadequate performance. Post-feminist that I am, I don't practice gender politics; but Graham didn't even have the grace to respect Senator Boxer as a person, much less a woman.
Watch this spectacle. I don't know if I feel sorrier for Southern boys from Deliveranceland being raised to aspire to this sort of adulthood, or those poor dumbass Southern belles who bag a beast like this and think they've got something. All I know is, men like Lindsey Graham make Brits look bloody good; and the thought that this Neanderthal is an elected representative in the United States, scares the living bejaysus out of me.
Lindsey, sorry ... I'm just not that into you. I may have tipped you the wink in the Seventies from my elitist Virginia perch, but even I wasn't that desperate then. The election was over in November. You lost. Have a mint julep and get over it.