It’s not easy coming up with a Swiftian themed Christmas op-ed. Oh sure, you could do the naughty or nice list. But since everyone in Washington would be on the former, the joke ends there. Presents for pols? Like my teenage daughters, they just prefer cash. The actual holiday takes a reverent note, however not a road I’m known for. What to do…
Then I saw one of the Christmas episodes of The Office, the one where Andy is Erin’s Secret Santa, gets her all the things in the Twelve Days of Christmas, and the turtledoves scratch up her face. Listening to the truly bizarre lyrics, the tenth day struck me. “Lords a leaping” does make a weird visual. But it also, stay with me here, is perhaps, yeah I know this is a stretch…a metaphor regarding what our elected officials should do in gift-giving situations. Specifically, what the House’s incoming Dem freshmen (No, I won’t use the gender-inclusive word. Bah humbug) could do to leap to the homeland’s defense and make up for the damage their party has done to this country for fifty years. Their Christmas present to us, if you will.
I can easily think of the first one, taken from the Hippocratic oath. They can do no harm.
All of them can promise not to bring any bill to committee for consideration or to vote for any Dem-sponsored bill in the House. Not one. Sure, they can vote on certain others. But if it comes to the floor proposed solely by party colleagues they must abstain. The little boys and girls can concentrate on learning the ropes and constituent service. Now I know from reader contact that some of you, like me to an extent, live here close to DC and have jobs that are highly connected to the legislative branch. So you’ll be glad to know that in my beneficence I will still allow them to go to Yule parties, lunches, and booze-soaked dinners with lobbyists, reporters, staffers, yes, courtesans of all types.
They can make promises and break them, lie their tails off to the press, sell their souls for a pittance, and look elf-important at any Washington lounge or swank eatery. Just no voting. Think of the money and waste saved if over the years, they had just hid in a cloakroom or slouched down low in their seats when the roll was called. The true spirit of the season indeed.
More leaping and neophyte present giving can be had by taking maybe their party’s worst screwup, out of so many as applied to living and breathing human beings, and fixing the problem. Yup, they can revivify Detroit by releasing it from the federal grip and turning back the clock.
Let the new Dems propose a bill to repeal any law in Detroit passed after the term of the Honorable Louis Miriani, the last Republican mayor of Detroit who left office in January of 1962. Sure, we can reinstate some of the good ones about equal blah blah blah. But economic and other sundry measures passed by people with the economic and social intelligence of weevils? Out they go with last year’s Christmas sweater. They will be replaced with, well, nothing. Okay, hardly any laws. Make it a Free City like Danzig, but without Danzig’s less-amusing events, loosely tied to Michigan but with none of the pesky state or federal laws that constrain fun times. Ho, ho, ho.
Aside from public safety and property rights, throw the town wide open and gut the government sector like a carp. Most anything goes. Think old Deadwood on payday. Gambling, yup. Hookers, of course. Drugs, under a contract with one of the Big Pharma firms for manufacture, distribution, and regulation? Fer sure. That’ll drive the streetside entrepreneurs right out of business just in time for the next holiday shopping period. Look, it’s not like all the flotsam and jetsam of the drug culture are going to magically disappear. Given that reality, we just need to corral them better and keep them out of the way of the high-roller tourists from the other forty-nine states and from across our icy northern border who will be traveling to Detroit for their own inebriant-filled Amok Time.
Local authorities, of whom their will be mercifully few, can evacuate the present residents to temporary housing external to the city and train them in the civically vital professions of croupier, bouncer, and upscale crack house proprietor while the city gets rebuilt by major hospitality firms. When they return they get vouchers for the market value of their former housing, plus an added amount to likely get much better housing than they had before. Oh yeah, before the renaissance begins we need to, in a giving spirit, carpet-bomb the whole joint. Probably can sell the viewing rights to HBO for a tidy sum. Simultaneously, the USAF can get some live-fire practice that would flatten the city in thorough manner. Oh stop your whingeing. Did it over North Vietnam in 1972, Merry Christmas Hanoi, and it had the desired effect.
Oh, sooooo heartless, huh?
Well, what has been more heartless is almost sixty years of Democratic local government that has made the place a den of unrelenting poverty, endemic crime, and intrinsic corruption. It makes Lagos look like Salt Lake City. The victims of this travesty have been generations of innocent people lulled into dull complacence by the siren songs of misdirected grievance and identity politics. The city regimes have turned what was once a mecca of American industry into a hollowed-out dystopian nightmare. Starting over by any means is a mercy killing followed by a resurrection.
And at this holy time of the year (see…I got there at the end) when we celebrate the birth of one who triumphed over death, bringing back a city from civic demise would be a nice present for those incoming Dem freshman to give to the American people.
Just don’t give us another bad tie. Anything but that.