Weird Wally was more than a little miffed by the time he got
home from his usual Thursday night at the local bingo parlor. And to make matters worse, he was pissed at
himself more than anything else. After
all, the man was a total asshole and Wally knew early on that he should’ve
simply gotten up and moved to another table, but he did not want to be rude.
“I’m sick and tired of people calling me racist when I know
I’m not,” he’d said, taking a seat across the table from Wally. “I have nothing against Obama, it’s just that
he was born in Africa and shouldn’t be president.” Billy Carlson, it turns out, was a recently
retired bricklayer from Alabama who’d moved to Denver to be close to the
Mountains. And despite all the empty seats in the hall, he’d
chosen a seat next to an African-American, in order to make an obvious point.
Billy was frustrated and said that he wanted his country
back. He had issues with the blacks, the
browns, gay marriage, White House scandals and cover ups and a whole lot
more. Several times Wally was on the
verge of voicing his opinion, but thought better of it. This isn’t the kind of guy whose going to listen
to anything I have to say, he thought.
Besides, Billy was one angry redneck who probably carried a concealed
weapon and was looking for any excuse to use it.
Maybe it was Wally’s silence, but for some reason, Billy
thought he’d found himself a kindred spirit in black skin, and ended up walking Wally to
his car. “I don’t get it,” Billy said
before departing for his own car, “how can I be racist when everyone thinks
like I do?”
By this morning, however, Wally was no longer miffed. As a matter of fact, he started feeling
encouraged. Something had come to him during
the night. If Billy thought that
everyone thought like him, it could only mean that his world was limited to likeminded
people. And people who thought like Billy, Wally was aware,
were most likely very old white men and hard core rednecks; the very people who
would most relish the idea of impeaching and removing from office, America’s
first black President.
Since it first became obvious to him that if the Republicans
planned to Impeach President Obama should they gain control of the Senate, Wally
began getting more and more depressed.
This whole impeachment thing, he thought, was red meat for the Billy
Carlsons of the world, and they were always hungry for more and more.
But since people like
Billy Carlson listened only to themselves and the Republicans listened only to
people like Billy Carlson, the party was always in search of more red meat to feed
the tiger that they had by the tail.
And with the Republican Speaker of the House adding to the
frenzy by announcing his intentions of Suing the President on behalf of
Congress, things were getting really ugly.
And with Billy Carlson seeking only the company of his own kind, and
everyone else wanting to avoid that kind of ugliness, Wally suddenly realized
that the Republicans may be in the midst of a flawed feedback loop, from which
there is no escape.
Meanwhile, with all their talk of lawsuits and impeachment
of the Nation’s first African-American President, the Republicans are starting
to piss off a lot of people of color. And Wally knows
one thing for sure, it’s the pissed off people of color who will also get out and vote.
And although Wally is not quite ready to say, “Bring it on!”
he is starting to feel better about the possibilities. Funny
how this Republican feedback loop is causing them to throw red meat both left
and right and Wally can only hope that they don’t come to their senses too
soon.