Take it, my pretty

I was reminded of the scene in Disney’s Snow White where the beautiful wicked queen disguised as an old hag offers the poisoned apple to Snow White.  “Take it my pretty, it will do you good.”  And we all know what happened then.

I had firmly resolved not to watch the Republican Convention.  That promise lasted about ten minutes when I remembered my line to Sweetheart when she asked me several years ago “Why do you listen to that freak Rush Limbaugh?”

 Because we need to know the enemy, I lied.  And listening to Limbaugh does more for raising my pulse rate than any exercise machine is capable of.

I figured if I watched the convention on PBS that I’d get less spewing of false rhetoric and more honest coverage of the Tampa white folks’ convention.  So I clicked to channel 50.

I nearly fell over backwards when my sixty inch Samsung screen was, without warning, filled with the image of Chris Christie looking as though he had just swallowed most of his state of New Jersey.  My first inclination was to make fun of his size, but then I remembered that this was a very petty approach to dealing with an adversary.  So I tried to remove his size 62 hulk from the equation.

And then he began to shout at me.  And the floating digital backdrop behind him filled with blue amorphous  globules that seemed to depict an ever-rising influx of the Governor’s bad cholesterol.  So I rejected the honorable approach of dealing with him and decided to focus on the petty.

I swear that the longer I watched Crispy, the bigger he got.  I tried to imagine the number of sheep that had to be sheared to produce his suit jacket.  I wondered if his pants had once been employed as an infield  ground cloth during a rainy day at Yankee Stadium.

But I did manage, between a barrage of ever more nasty mental insights, to listen to some of his speech.  And I was richly  rewarded with a potpourri of distortions, factual contortions and downright insults to anyone’s intelligence except for that of the mostly old, mostly rich and almost universally white people who were in attendance and obviously enthralled with his words.

As his harangue grew in volume, I thought back to that old Monty Python routine, Mr. Creosote.  In that gross but very funny episode set in a restaurant, Mr. Creosote, ably played by Terry Jones, eats everything in sight.  Finally, after being offered a mint to complete the orgy, Creosote explodes and lays waste to himself and everything around him.  As his voice grew louder and his face redder,  I anxiously waited for Crispy to emulate Creosote.

But I digress from Crispy’s speech which mainly focused on his prescription of tax cuts, slashed budgets, cancelled public projects and broken labor unions.  It’s good for you, my pretty, he insisted.  It’s what the doctor ordered.  It will make your life more meaningful.  Your grandchildren will thank you.  And only Mitt can transport you to the promised land.

What Crispy failed to tell us is that New Jersey has not had the revenue boom he promised from his tax cuts and the state’s unemployment rate is higher than it was when he took over.  Per Paul Krugman, Crispy’s budget balancing routine was heavily weighted to deferring required contributions to pension funds, diverting money from the Transportation Trust Fund, cancelling the much-needed rail tunnel link to Manhattan while investing in a megamall and an Atlantic City casino, and vetoing a temporary tax surcharge on millionaires.

The convention center cameras panned around during Crispy’s speech giving us respite from watching his cholesterol count.  Clearly enraptured faces abounded.  Other faces, one in particular, had a facial expression that defied description.  Mitt’s face seemed frozen in time, unsure whether to laugh or cry.  To laugh at the orgy of distortion or to cry wondering what he had done to deserve the main spotlight in this circus.

He too, maybe because he’s been doing it too long to stop, will surely reach out to us and say “Take it my pretty, it will do you good.”

7 Responses to “Take it, my pretty”

  1. 1 Alan Greenberg August 29, 2012 at 3:14 pm

    Fred – You too are old, rich, and white. But I agree with you anyway.

    Alan G.


  2. 2 Maureen August 29, 2012 at 3:49 pm

    Thanks for watching for me Fred…that way I don’t need to because I am not sure my blood pressure could take it.


  3. 3 Peggy August 29, 2012 at 4:04 pm

    Your blog gave me my laugh for the day, but it points out the circus production that the RNC aspires to.


  4. 4 David August 29, 2012 at 5:30 pm

    14 sheep. I checked.


  5. 5 Harry Dyner August 29, 2012 at 5:50 pm

    It is interesting that you characterized the attendees as old white and rich. You neglected to mention Artur Davis, the “renegade” democrat turned Republican (Congressman from Alabama) who had had it with Obama’s broken promises and lack of performance, who spoke before Christie. Or even Condeleeza Rice, who was in attendance.and seated prominently next to Mitt and Anne. Or. Even the governor of South Carolina,Nicky Halley, a Sikh. Of course, the only thing you were focused on was Christy’s weight, not his performance in a heavily democratic state.



  6. 6 Sally August 29, 2012 at 6:13 pm

    Nikki Haley was born into a family of Sikhs, but converted to Christianity when she was 24. Much as I like Wikipedia, not everything in it is accurate. Meantime the vast majority of RNC attendees are old white guys. Fred, I look forward to your entertaining insights and encourage folks to read this article by my son’s friend http://www.thenation.com/blogs/jessica-valenti


  7. 7 Allen August 29, 2012 at 8:12 pm

    If you had to guard Christie, he would have need a platoon of guards just to surround him.
    Hiring a platoon of troopers to guard him wouldn’t be bad, help too lower NJ unemployment.
    Job creator.


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