And so Paul Pelosi is attacked by a hammer-wielding right-winger looking for Nancy.
The governor of Virginia “jokes” about it. “Speaker Pelosi’s husband, they had a break-in last night in their house and he was assaulted. There’s no room for violence anywhere, but… ”
Anytime you start a sentence, “There’s no room for violence, but,” you should probably stop right there. Decent human beings would never have reached the “but.” But the man knows what his audience wants to hear.
Governor Youngkin completed the sentence. “There’s no room for violence anywhere, but we’re going to send [Nancy] back to be with him in California. That’s what we’re going to go do. That’s what we’re going to go do.” The audience applauded.
The hammer was meant for Nancy. We missed her on January 6. But we’ll have other opportunities.
Words have consequences.
Dana Millbank reports today that his rabbi asked his congregation recently how many of them had started to explore where they could move if the antisemitism stoked by the right continues to threaten them. Hands went up all over the synagogue.
Words have consequences.
Armed men threaten voters at polling sites.
Words have consequences.
“There are at least two Wests,” Vladimir Putin said the other day. One, he said, is a West of “traditional, mainly Christian values” for which Russians feel kinship. But, he said, “there’s another West — aggressive, cosmopolitan, neocolonial, acting as the weapon of the neoliberal elite,” and trying to impose its “pretty strange” values on everyone else. He peppered his remarks with references to “dozens of genders” and “gay parades.”
“In the United States,” he said, “there’s a very strong part of the public who maintain traditional values, and they’re with us.”
Putin is correct. Republicans in the House have already broached the possibility they will cut funding to Ukraine if they return to power in a few weeks.
The Republican base have demonstrated time and time again that, following Trump, they are “with” Putin.
And Putin is leading the war of the “traditional Christian West” against the “gay cosmopolitan West” of “liberal elites.” He is showing the way. And the way is marked by violence.
Putin’s path is paved with missiles and tanks.
So far, in this country, Putin’s allies, those of “traditional Christian values” who “stand with him,” are exploring a path marked by rhetoric. It’s only words, they tell us time and time again. We’re only funnin’. It’s all politics.
But words have consequences.
Words become hammers. And hammers become automatic weapons. If you really believe that Democrats are stealing elections, you should probably do something about it after all. And so lies become patrolling which becomes threatening which becomes a squeezed trigger.
A vote for the Republican party at this stage in our history is a vote to continue down this path. Putin’s path. It’s a vote for the hammer. The sickle isn’t far behind …
xxx
Durham at the Bar
The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Trumper team that day;
Dems chalked up two impeachments; few cards were left to play,
And then with Flynn convicted, and Cohen set adrift,
A pall-like silence fell upon the suckers in Trump’s grift.
A brave few left the field in deepest shame.
Cheney and Kinzinger, spat the drunks who said their name;
They thought, “If only Durham will be unleashed by Barr –
He just might leave the door to victory a tiny bit ajar.”
But Nancy didn’t dawdle, and Jamie Raskin made his case,
And not a single Trumpy argument even made it to first base;
So among the Trumper legions, cold hotdogs were the only feast
For there seemed but little chance that Durham would be unleashed.
But Barr smudged up Mueller, to the wonderment of all,
And then the great AG called Durham from the hall;
And when the dust had lifted, and CNN stood awed,
There was Durham with subpoenas to hunt down all that fraud.
Then from Trump’s tiny fingers there tweeted a lusty yell,
An all-caps hosanna, he had his lie to sell;
It echoed from the mountains, reached every Florida bay,
Surely Durham would disprove that Steele dossier.
There was ease in Trump’s manner as he tweeted to his hosts;
Our Trumper friends were gleeful as they pounded out Facebook posts.
For when once Durham, mighty Durham, clipped on his lawyer’s cape,
He would put to rest, forever, talk of a pee-pee tape.
Millions of eyes were on him as he calmly began his work;
Thousands of tweets applauded, for surely he’d find the dirt.
Those Dems with all their taunts, with all their truth and facts,
Well Durham would outtruth their truths and give their facts the axe.
And as the cases started, FOX was breathlessly on air,
The jury would cry out “Guilty”; after all, it’s only fair.
But then the jury, the nasty jury, didn’t see it quite that way.
“Strike one. You’re out,” the judge did say that day.
Then from the addled multitudes went up a mighty roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves upon a dim and witless shore;
“Lock them up! Lock them up!” roared the Trumpers as a man;
Alas, it was mostly Trumpers assigned to years in the can.
Still Durham had more chances; he tried and tried anew;
He pled with his juries, begged them to see what’s true.
But jury after jury, Durham’s theories did abort,
And jury after jury threw poor Durham out of court.
“Fake news!” cried the maddened thousands, and again they cried, “Fake news!”
They turned their eyes to Kanye, who promptly blamed the Jews.
But Durham had one last chance; it happened just this week.
Surely this time Trump and his loyal minions would gain what they seek.
Durham’s voice is raised in passion, his words are strong and clear;
The jury shakes before him like a belly full of beer;
His arguments are perfect, John Durham is through posing,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Durham’s closing.
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light;
And somewhere libs are laughing, and somewhere winners shout,
But there is no joy in Trump World – mighty Durham has struck out.