The Republicans seem determined to shut down the government. In her latest bit of satire, Alexandra Petri (The Washington Post) presents this as a recurring nightmare:
I am having the government shutdown nightmare again. I had it a few months ago, but it is worse than before.
You know the nightmare I mean. It is the one where other things are shutting down for the same reasons that House Republicans are shutting down the government. It is one of those nightmares that you keep trying, and failing, to wake up from.
You are lying on an operating table. House Speaker Kevin McCarthy is your surgeon. “I can save you,” McCarthy says. “I know how. But that is going to upset members of the Freedom Caucus. Instead of saving you, they want me to insert this bonus liver! I’m going to try it, as a gesture of good faith to them.” He nods to his nurse, lifts the liver from a neighboring tray, and you feel yourself going under.
When you next open your eyes you are on an airplane. Kevin McCarthy’s voice comes over the intercom. “Hello,” he says. “This is your pilot speaking. I would love to land this plane safely. I know how. But if I do that, Matt Gaetz will threaten my job. Instead, he wants me to try to fly into the sun. And to that I say, sure! We don’t know it won’t work!”
“Yes, we do!” another passenger yells.
“What matters is, people will see that we tried our best to land the plane safely!” Kevin McCarthy’s voice says, and then the intercom cuts out and you feel the nose of the plane tilting up, up, up.
When you next open your eyes you are on a deserted island. There is a bridge to the mainland. Kevin McCarthy is setting it on fire. “Come on!” you say. “Really?”
He shrugs. “Freedom Caucus doesn’t want us to use the bridge,” he says. “But they have a great plan that should work, using just a few hen’s teeth, a series of ghosts and cold fusion.” You sigh.
When you next open your eyes you are sinking in quicksand. “Throw me the rope!” you yell to Kevin McCarthy. He is very clearly standing within range, holding a generous length of rope.
“Do you know what will make Matt Gaetz happy?” he yells back. He makes no attempt to throw the rope. You are sinking rapidly. “I am just trying to do what will make Matt Gaetz happy!”“No one knows what will make Matt Gaetz happy!” you yell. “It is essential that you throw me a rope!”
“Essential,” McCarthy says. “I don’t know what that word means. Like an oil?” Sand fills your mouth and eyes. “What if we hold an impeachment hearing? Is that essential?” you hear McCarthy saying, as the sand closes over your head.
When you next open your eyes you are plummeting rapidly through the air, securely belted to your skydiving instructor. The instructor is Kevin McCarthy. “Pull the chute!” you shout. He shakes his head. “SORRY!” he shouts back. “MATT GAETZ WILL GET MAD IF I PULL THE CHUTE, SO INSTEAD I AM GOING TO USE THE POWER OF POSITIVE THINKING!”
“That won’t work!” you yell. The ground is getting closer.
“IT’S THIS OR MY JOB!” he shouts back.
“YOUR JOB IS TO PREVENT THIS FROM HAPPENING!” you yell. You are picking up speed. You squeeze your eyes shut.
When you next open your eyes you are on an out-of-control trolley, barreling toward the U.S. economy’s fragile recovery, which in this scenario is anthropomorphic and strapped to the trolley tracks. There is a bright red switch that will divert the trolley onto a siding where it will damage only one thing, Kevin McCarthy’s career as speaker of the House — a thing of limited value to anyone. “Pull the switch!” you yell. “Pull the switch!” But Kevin McCarthy is driving the trolley. He shakes his head.
I wish I didn’t have this nightmare so regularly. I wish we weren’t in a situation where the punchline to this kind of joke behavior will punch real people in the face. Real suffering for joke reasons, the new American way! I wish this kind of goofy brinkmanship wasn’t going to result in denying expectant parents access to food, straining those trying to deliver health care, and — less importantly, but still — preventing me from seeing which bear is fat this week.
But that would be a dream.
