Sunday, April 02, 2006


By Creature

I have a confession to make... I've lost my censure fire. The nail in my censure coffin came on Friday, when the Judiciary Committee held a censure hearing and nobody showed. Sure, there were speeches and a bit of posing. Sure, some headlines were made. But what a sad sight it was seeing only three democrats sitting at the table. Piss, poor, sad. Even Sen. Specter, who only agreed to hold the hearings for his own political agenda, said, "I thought they would attract more attention." You would think, wouldn't you?

I have another confession to make... The negative spin on the Democratic side may have done me in even before Friday. As I look back over my posts from the week I realize I didn't even rah, rah the hearings once as they approached. Am I a bad blogger, or simply a disillusioned citizen? That's easy, the former could never be true (snark?), so I'll bet on the latter.

And I know I would not be feeling so censure defeated if the Democrats had only stood behind Sen. Feingold from the word go. That Monday morning, the day after his This Week appearance, the Democratic party should have called a unity press conference with Russ in the lead. They did not. Instead the chose to cower. Instead they chose to run. Like a bunch of spineless rats they scurried from the big-bad-Republican cat. I agreed with Russ at the time. Censure seemed at least reasonable. Censure could have been sold to the American people. Impeachment, no. Too extreme. Trust me, impeachment is what I wanted. Impeachment, followed by indictments, ending with prison time (with a little taring and feathering thrown in for good measure). This is what these criminals deserve. So, I was go, Russ, go. Now, I wish he had left the cat in the bag. If only to have spared me from these feelings of disgust and despair over the party they call Democratic.

I'm going to assume after Friday's debacle censure is dead. And while I'm glad the president's misdeeds made it to the dance for a brief time, I'm reluctantly admitting that the resolution was premature. It was born out of frustration. It was understandable, but it was premature nonetheless. November is the key. And yes, the conventional wisdom has gotten to me.

For the wonkey and newsworthy side of censure I will send you to Glenn at his home somewhere in Unclaimed Territory. Come back after you learn something.

(Cross-posted at State of the Day.)

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