Look at these guys. They live in a fuck-all insane postcolonial schizopolis with a deeply insecure, nuclear-armed military dictatorship ruling as a brittle bulwark against the other likely scenario, which is a lot like Afghanistan under the Taliban, except instead of blowing up some Buddhas they'll lob a few A-bombs at Dehli just to show those Hindi BJP motherfuckers who's really got the biggest dicks. And yet there they are, getting the fuck beat out of em in the streets for the rule of law. Lawyers! You've got to admire the balls on them. They're going to lose, after all. Uncle Sam is so fucking scared of the nuclear Islamonazi scenario that he'll never stop shipping suitcases full of money, porno mags, and ammunition to Uncle Pervez, and these guys basically know it. Turn on NPR this evening listen to the lilting, perfect English of some Cambridge-educated Pakistani barrister telling you that the US must stand up for democracy and do what is right and not allow the people to be trampled by this little man with his big uniform and funny haircut and hard-on for power and delusions that he alone stands between the world and the Caliphate of the Islamofascisti forever and ever, amen. Do you hear the undertone of the music of his voice? That, my friends, is resignation and despair.
Nevertheless. Here in the good ol' US of A, the ongoing imposition of martial law under the aegis of the Commander-in-Chief, an imaginery title bestowed on an inadequate man, meets a lot of forcefully-worded editorializing from sinecured nonprofit drones and sinecured university drones and concerned lawyers who will take to the television studio and play their part in our choreographed "crazy plebiscitary dictatorship," to steal Yglesias' inspired turn of phrase. We have plenty of hand-wringing and the usual yammerings for mo-betta Democrats, the political equivalent of Tantalus inventing and implementing his own infamous punishment. Now I am on the record--and not, to be clear, reneging--as saying that street protests have as little chance here as there. Less, in fact. But honestly, wouldn't you like to see some Justice Department lawyers rioting for once rather than planting leaks with the press? Wouldn't you like to see some dissident JAG lawyer testifying before Congress spit on the floor every time a Congresscreature speaks? Wouldn't you like to see Abe Foxman worry less about whether or not Jimmy Carter made a face at his yarmulke and help put the remaining moral force--what hasn't been frittered away on the noble goal of neck-stomping Palestinians--of post-Holocaust Jewry behind the cause of rejecting arbitrary authority in America? Just, as they say, for good measure.
For the sake of all that is sexy and true, you've got Russ Feingold, whom you may remember as a quite recent avatar of Donkle hopes and dreams, the principled man who would really in truly bring 'em home, who along with the lady built like a Boxster is going to roll on the nebbish little Eichmann-for-AG because he's not as bad as he could be, a rubric by which I might as well go back to barebacking in the bathhouse because, fuck it, AIDS ain't as bad as Ebola. Might as well give it a shot. Maybe it won't be as bad as peole say.