The age of fairy tales has not passed. Indeed, historians may someday call these the Alice in Wonderland years. They may write about us as the generation that slipped through a looking glass. They may call this the Age of Monty Python. A land of leaders who lead by marching in the opposite direction of those they claim to lead.
To bolster my case, I offer as evidence this week in Washington.
We all know millions of Americans dislike Congress. And those are the more friendly of the populace. The remainder of voters despise Congress. Recent polls have the popularity of Congress tied with tripe, turnips and parsnips for dessert. At 13 percent, it is the lowest since Gallup began. (I know, probably 13 percent love tripe and turnip ice cream. Fortunately, we keep them out of our kitchens.)
And why do huge majorities disapprove of Congress? We tell pollsters. We hate that Congress spends so much. We hate that Congress sneaks billions in spending into bills that have nothing to do with that spending. We hate the earmarks Congress festoons bills with. We hate it when Congress ignores what the voters say they want and don’t want. We hate it when Congress passes huge bills none of their members have read. We hate it when Congress stuffs new laws and regulations down our throats without debating them.
Voters hate these things so much they just handed huge numbers of congressguys their heads. They also scared the turnip and tripe out of other members who believed their seats were guaranteed for life.
And yet, in this age of make-believe, Congress ignored all this and did it again. Voters railed against more and more spending. So Congress brought forth another gargantuan spending bill. This week.
Voters demand that lawmakers at least read the bills they vote on. Voters were sickened by Nancy Pelosi’s attitude with Obamacare: Politicians would have to pass the new laws so that they could read them. That being the case, Congress again tried to jam through thousands of pages of stuff that none of them had read. This week they did.
