In the rush to claim victory, politicians and pundits on both sides are missing the most important point about last night’s Senate compromise: within days this should result in a marked reduction of elected old farts butchering the word “nuclear” on national television.

I swear to God, it should be a constitutional requirement that you not say “nu-cu-lar” to run for any federal office. Or receive food.

On a more partisan note, I really don’t see how this is at all a “win” for Democrats, and I’m pretty sure we’re just saying it is so we look like we finally accomplished something. Senators on the left basically groveled for their lives, and the armed thugs in their house decided not to execute them on the spot; they’re still going to ransack the place and reshape the neighborhood as they see fit while the Dems, still shaking, offer a quivering “Thank you sir, may I please have another?”

Say you’re violently allergic to cats, but your two roommates decide to adopt a whole litter of kittens. You protest until you’re blue in the face, but at the end of the day, your roommates say, “Sorry, dude, it’s two votes to one; we’re getting the furballs.” When you continue to protest and try to stop them from retrieving the kittens, they tell you point blank, “Look, we could do this peacefully, or we could overpower you, throw you in your bedroom, and board up your door with pieces of wood we make by destroying the dining room table, and then we’ll get whatever damn pets we please.” As a last resort, you beg them to only get 3 kittens instead of 7, and they concede because they’d rather not hear you crying and wailing through the wall (and there’s a slim possibility you’ll start screaming out the window for the neighbors to come do something).

In the end, you live with 3 cats (and two jackasses), your furniture looks like crap and you can’t breathe or see through your allergies, and the only guarantee that you still won’t end up locked in your bedroom by your thug roommates is that you decide not to say it’s “unreasonable” when they get it into their heads next year to buy a pet elephant.

Mmm-mm, sweet “victory.” Just like nucular winter, but with less dignity.



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