Just after the turn of the last century, southern boys gave us the term Yellow Dog Democrats. These were folks who, like many of the blind faithful minority and “working class” Democrats of today, would just as soon vote for an “ol’ yaller dawg” than vote for a Republican. Especially if Jesse Jackson or the Union tells them to.
More recently we had the Blue Dog Democrats. This is a much more useful group, going back to what were once known as Reagan Democrats. A Texas Democrat, Pete Geren, coined the phrase when he said the Democratic Party had been “choked blue” by the left-wing extremist wacko kook-fringe, such as bunny-huggers, gay rights activists, the Democratic Underground, George Soros, and Katie Couric.
Which brings us to Sam-the-Dog Republicans.
Sam-the-Dog was a rather sad little creature who came to stay with us on the farm for awhile when we were kids. Sam was a bonified Heintz 57 American Mutt, but primarily some kind of heeler. A cow dog on a pig farm. Regardless of his lineage, or lack thereof, Sam was not the most loveable or huggable of dogs. At best you just kind of felt sorry for him. When you tried to pet him, Sam, who was soooo eager to please and wanted to be loved soooo badly, would start whimpering and roll over on his back and spump thick, smelly urine all over himself and you. You quickly decided you did not want to pet him after all and backed off in disgust.
At the other end of the spectrum, we had a dog named Duke, a black lab/Great Dane mix. Duke was universally loved and the few that didn’t love him by God respected him. He could pick Sam up in his mouth and carry him around. If you were pheasant hunting with Duke and missed a shot, he would turn, never say a word, but give you that look, which made you promise to do better next time. Sometimes, if you weren’t quick enough on the draw, he would leap 4-5 feet in the air and get the pheasant himself. If any ol’ yaller dawg came into the farmyard, Duke simply kicked its ass. His mere presence kept the farm secure; the Jehovah’s Witnesses wouldn’t even get out of the car when he looked down at them through the window and went, “WOOF!”
From 1981-1989 America had a Duke on the job. Today, all that those geniuses at the Republican National Committee can offer us is Sam-the-Dog. Sam-the-Dog Republicans want sooo badly to be loved by the Left, the Press, and “moderates” that they too will roll over and whine and grovel and pee all over themselves in a pathetic and very unsuccessful attempt to curry favor with those who are cat-lovers in the first place.
Now that I think about it, not even the Sam-the-Dog analogy quite covers the current Republican Party completely. After all, Sam-the-Dog never even thought about biting the hand that fed him.
At any rate, we now have the ultimate yaller dawg on top of the heap. Or, as I like to call him, Jimmy Carter’s Evil Twin. Pass the Zicam, I can feel this country coming down with a “malaise” already. This young puppy has been chasing the car for a long time, but now that he’s actually caught it, he hasn’t a clue on what the hell to actually do with it. He could, in the next four years, “screw the pooch” (ha-ha, get it?) so badly that the GOP could make a sweeping come-back in 2012.
They won’t, not with the current dog handlers. Even in the doubtful event that they could come up with another Duke, the RNC trainers would never let him off the leash. Neo-Cons, New Conservatives, as Edward Abbey once said, “Are neither new nor conservative, but old as Babylon and evil as Hell.” They seem to actually hate real Conservatives and real Conservatism and prefer Sam-the-Dogs.
Many of these same weenies, or similar creatures of their ilk, tried to keep Duke in the kennel way back in 1976…he was “too conservative” to be electable. Instead, the clever puppet-masters picked Gerald Ford because he was “moderate”, more like a poodle. Thus the RNC helped usher in the beloved Carter Administration which strove so hard to make America the world’s fire hydrant.
Duke broke out of his pen and got the nomination the next go-round, and proved to be a tad bit more than “electable” than the RNC rocket scientists predicted. Just ask the Democrats’ very own Sam-the-Dog, Peanut Boy Carter, who won 6 states in 1980. Or yapping Chihuahua Walter (Hey, I won Minnesota and Washington D.C.!) Mondale.
As el Rushbo always says, Conservatism wins whenever it is tried. Despite the Reagan Revolution and the Class of ’94, the GOP big shots won’t even try actual Conservatism. They keep insisting that only wishy-washy moderate or left-leaning Sam-the-Dogs can fetch the big ball. We’ve all seen how well that’s been working for them. Apparently, they themselves can’t see it no matter how many times they step barefoot on the poop in the yard. Right now they’re posting fliers on telephone poles seeking to find another beloved Sam-the-Dog to run in 2012. They’ve already pushed Duchess out into the street to get hit by the bus.
If you’re one of the few actual Conservative who still try to pet the GOP Sam-the-Dog, bring some hand sanitizer; you’ll no doubt get peed on again. I think maybe the GOP has rabies and needs to be taken out behind the woodshed and shot. Only no one will cry at the end.
2 comments:
Since our blog always strives to be fair and unbiased, I hate to call your journalistic objectivity into question on this one. But isn't it possible that since Duke was YOUR dog and Sam was MY dog, you might have a somewhat biased opinion on this?
After all, "Saint Duke" was not without his personal foibles. For instance, he had only slightly more self-restraint than does Bill Clinton. I remember Duke gluttonously devouring, among other things, a box of facial tissues, a red rubber ball, and dried fishing worms (still on the hook).
And Sam was not without a certain charm all his own. I still remember the day we brought him home to the farm. On the ride home he barfed up something resembling salmon loaf, and then, upon arrival, he promptly rolled over and showered me with urine. A lovable scamp!
Though he's up in doggy-heaven, I'm sure Sam wouldn't appreciate being associated with the likes of John McCain!
Also, Sam was not a mutt. He was an Australian Blue Heeler. This could probably be woven in to the McCain theme if you mention that pedigree is no indicator of performance.
Another Duke character flaw was that, in spite of a certain outpatient operation in his puppyhood, he liked to "romance" all manner of animate and inanimate objects.
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