“No man’s life, liberty or property are safe while the Legislature is in session”
The quote is often misattributed to Mark Twain, and it’s easy to understand why. Pretty much anything subversively acerbic and deliciously sardonic that emerged from the 19th century is usually credited to Mr. Clemens.
Which brings us to Arlen J. Specter, the vigilant eyes of the United States Congress.
Our Arlen, he’s a regular Cincinnatus. Answered the call to public service, and he’ll leave as soon as the job is done. No sense loitering about and collecting the spoils of corruption. That would be indecent.
Is it Arlen’s fault that, after 27 years, the job remains to be done?
The casualties in Iraq continue to mount, the end nowhere in sight. Ditto Afghanistan. How will we fight the Iran War? The national debt is racing through the trillions careening headlong for the quadrillions. The economy is wobbling like a one-eyed, four-sheets-to-the-wind drunk wandering through potholed urban streets at dawn on two broken legs. Global warming? We’ll see.
And Arlen, he gonna to bring the big, bad robber baron NFL to heel. Arlen wants to know why NFL kingpin Roger Goodell destroyed those “Spygate” tapes, the ones that caught Bill Belichick and the Patriots cheating. First the CIA, now the NFL. Arlen couldn’t whip the CIA or the administration into shape, so he’s gonna discipline the NFL and put a smile on the face of the common man. Him and those $600 rebate checks!
Give him a nice little triumph at the end of his career to provide some symmetry to the singular genius of his Single Bullet Theory.
The cynics, Arlen, they say you want to sack the NFL because your sugar daddy is pissed.
They say you’re in bed with Comcast, and you’re a foot soldier in the corporate bully’s war with the big, bad NFL.
Screw them. So you’ve taken in more than $500,o00 in Comcast-related tribute, but a U.S. Senator gots to eat, right?
And let’s face it, you’ve been around since the days of Barry Goldwater. When you last a quarter-century, you’re going to feel the pangs of hunger every now and then. It’s only natural.
Mind you, nobody’s saying you overstayed your welcome. Hell, your fellow Pennsylvania Republican, that raging octogenarian Joe Paterno, he’s older than you. You won’t even turn 80 until your next election. So stick around.
Come to think of it, that’s a fine distinction to shoot for: Better the Joe Paterno of Pennsylvania politics than the hired gun of Comcast.
Just deliver a national championship before it’s too late, OK?