Iron Frist

If you've read anything at all on the lefty blogosphere as of late, you know that Tennessee senatorial douchebag/cat-killer hobbyist Bill Frist has been publicly pondering the so-called "nuclear option". This would allow contentious judgeships to get rammed through sideways, by disallowing the Mr. Smith Goes To Washington-like filibuster of the principled Democratic opposition.

Leaving aside the painfully obvious hypocrisy of Republican Congress-slime -- who happily snubbed and filibustered everything Clinton ever did, right on down to suggestions for lunch -- suddenly getting the vapors at the notion of partisan tricksiness while they control everything, let us consider the notion of political jujitsu. Let us consider the idea of using our opponent's own attacking momentum to our advantage.

Let's say "fuck it", and sign on to Big Bad Bill's little pet project, making sure he understands that if the tide turns after the midterms -- and it probably will -- he might as well be wearing buttless chaps in a leather bar at last call.

The latest tactic is to frame the "nucular option" as an attack against people of faith. This is just Frist thinking he's viable in '08, and he's finding out pretty fast that nobody is in love with his stupid idea.

So I say give it to him, tape it to the back of his shirt like a "kick me" sticker, and make sure everybody knows where everyone else stands next year.

This, of course, would require an opposition party with backbone, and I still offer my services as Ballkicker-In-Chief. I will conduct myself by Mike Tyson rules -- that is, I will fuck them until they love me. If not now, when? If not me, who?

Bill Frist is a pussy. Give me one week with enough exposure, and a very reasonable stipend (beer money) and I'll be brushing his peanuts and corn off my gargantuan political cock within a month.