Bedbugs, Bedbugs - Whatcha Gonna Do When They Come for You?
My three o’clock consultation today was O’Meanahan, a top-echelon conservative Republican strategist. To say that he was beaming would be totally insufficient. To opine that he appeared self-satisfied would be a gross understatement. To aver that he appeared triumphant would be a pitiful misrepresentation. No, O’Meanahan looked like the cat that ate the canary, the goldfish, the family dog’s dinner, the baby’s candy and every lamb chop on the kitchen counter, then drank all the beer in the refrigerator.
“Collins,” he chortled as he settled on the couch by the picture window, indicating the White House outside it, “that black-[expletive] [expletive] rag-head Kenyan Socialist is going to be a complete lame duck for two entire years until we finish him off in 2012!”
“Nobody can deny,” I observed, “that the conservative Republicans have done a masterful job of convincing American citizens that our President is exactly that. At the moment, one in five of them think Barack Obama is a Moslem, one in four consider him a Socialist, and nearly a third of them believe he’s a foreigner born in Africa.”
O’Meanahan threw his head back and laughed heartily. “Not bad, huh? You like the way we got half of those pinheads out in the provinces to blame Superspade over there,” he sneered as he gestured again at the White House, “not only for Afghanistan, the recession, unemployment, illegal immigration and terrorism, but the Mosque at Ground Zero and the BP oil spill, too?”
“It’s been a truly professional hit,” I replied, “all the way around. My compliments.”
“Thanks,” O’Meanahan chuckled, leaning forward expectantly with a maniacal grin, “now - here’s what I want to get from you, Collins - give me your assessment of my latest idea how the Republicans can put another big, fat rat up that [expletive] Ubangi-lipped, Watusi-eared, spear-chucking, tree-swinging, banana-stuffing, mud-colored mulatto porch monkey’s ugly, stinking, crab-infested, dingleberry-covered [expletive]!”
“Allow me to remind you,” I pleaded, “that you are referring to the President of the United States.”
“[Expletive] him!” O’Meanahan shouted. “It’s a free country, isn’t it? First Amendment! I can say what I want about camel-[expletive] Commie jungle bunnies like Obama, and so can Fox News!”
“Having the right to do something,” I chided, “doesn’t necessarily imply that doing it is a virtuous act.”
“Stop talking,” O’Meanahan insisted, “like some postmodern, brie-eating, Derrida-quoting, gay-tolerating, [expletive]-loving liberal! Save that for your [expletive] Democrat clients! Quit wasting my time and tell me what I should say when I pitch my latest brainstorm to the RNC!”
Pretending to peruse the documents on my desk, I let him cool off for a minute before I spoke. Then I looked him straight in the eye.
“Which is?”
“Bedbugs.”
“You want to blame President Obama for bedbugs?” I asked, somewhat more than a little gobsmacked by the suggestion.
“Exactly,” he huffed, crossing his arms across his chest and settling back into the couch to await my response.
“My first observation would be,” I observed, “that bedbugs have been around since humans invented beds; and literally, that’s more than ten thousand years.”
“Impossible!” O’Meanahan objected. “The Earth is only six thousand years old, at most!”
“Well, okay,” I continued, not wishing to digress into a debate over literal interpretation of Scripture, since once you get them started on that, a typical conservative Republican can go on for hours, “thousands of years, anyway. I guess my point is, bedbugs were around before Obama became President.”
“Sure,” O’Meanahan shrugged, “so was the war in Afghanistan, and we did a dandy job of blaming him for that, didn’t we?”
“No denying it,” I conceded. “But let’s face facts here, bedbugs are pretty creepy. They sneak out under cover of darkness and suck your blood when you’re helpless.”
“Just like Socialists!” O’Meanahan exulted. “When it comes to Obama’s politics, bedbugs are the perfect metaphor!”
“Perhaps,” I allowed. “But bedbugs’ only significant threat is simply to make people prone to hysteria and irrationality.”
“Just like terrorism,” he pointed out enthusiastically, stabbing his finger at me for emphasis. “And we blamed Obama for terrorism, too!”
“Look,” I persisted, “if the Republicans start going on about bedbugs, you’ve got to consider the possibility that folks might blame the messenger. I mean, once you get them, bedbugs are a problem that takes an incredibly long time to fix.”
“Exactly!” O’Meanahan grinned. “Just like the recession, and we’ve got practically everybody in America blaming Obama for that!”
“But bedbugs,” I shot back, “are just something that happened during his term of office, aren’t they? Obama didn’t do anything to cause the crisis, did he?”
“Obama didn’t do anything to cause the BP oil spill either,” O’Meanahan parried, “and we managed to get twenty-six percent of the public to think he’s responsible for it!”
“But aren’t bedbugs,” I objected, “something the city or county board of health would deal with? Aren’t bedbugs essentially a local issue?”
“Yeah,” O’Meanahan nodded, “that’s true. But so is the Mosque at Ground Zero. And wasn’t Obama stupid enough to involve himself with that anyhow by making a public statement at the White House Ramadan Feast in favor of the Islamo-fascists who are building an edifice to commemorate the Al-Qaida fanatics who died murdering four thousand Americans on 9/11?”
“It’s not,” I pointed out, “an edifice which commemorates anything. It’s supposed to be an interfaith community center. But otherwise, I see what you mean. So, all right; but you have to remember, bedbugs are not native to the United States. People are bound to realize that foreigners are responsible for them.”
“Bingo!” O’Meanahan yelled. “Just like illegal immigration, which we have, as of the latest polls this morning, succeeded in getting three out of ten Americans to blame Barack Obama for!”
“Bedbugs,” I resolutely continued, “are everywhere. They’ve invaded New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Boston, Dallas, Houston, New Orleans, Miami, you name it. It’s going to be obvious to anyone who thinks about it for more than a minute that bedbugs are a widespread misfortune that befalls a lot of people, none of whom are at fault for it.”
“Two things,” O’Meanahan proclaimed. “Number One: that’s just like unemployment, which we got most Americans to blame Obama for last year! And Number Two: screw that minute, okay? Because our studies show that the average American can’t think about anything for more than thirty-seven seconds!”
“Outstanding,” I congratulated. “A most convincing argument, if I ever heard one, that if we’re going to blame President Obama for Afghanistan, the Great Recession, widespread unemployment, runaway illegal immigration, rampant terrorism, the Mosque at Ground Zero and the BP oil spill, we might as well blame him for bedbugs, too.”
“Precisely,” O’Meanahan cackled. “And who could possibly contend with impeccable logic like that?”
“Nobody who votes Republican,” I readily admitted. “But I strongly suggest that the RNC test the concept on focus groups of independents and moderate Democrats before sending the usual slanted background materials, biased talking points, and code-word laden propaganda scripts to your customary gaggle of conservative pundits.”
O’Meanahan scrunched his face into a hideous mask of incredulity. “Why should I advise them to bother with doing that?”
“The gross-out factor,” I explained. “None of the things you have blamed Obama for are anywhere near as icky as bedbugs.”
O’Meanahan’s expression changed from mindlessly curious to shallowly nonplussed. “Icky?”
“A vast majority of people find insects in general and bedbugs in particular, to be extremely yucky, icky, gross-out disgusting,” I emphasized. “The very thought of bedbugs will make them literally sick to their stomachs. And thinking about bedbugs will surely cause them to suffer.”
“So what,” O’Meanahan shrugged with a true sociopath’s nonchalance, “we’ve been making them suffer for decades, getting them to vote against their own interests by stirring up their emotions of fear, greed and bigotry. It worked for Nixon, it worked for Reagan, it worked for Bush Senior and Bush Junior. [Expletive] the people who vote for us - they’re only good for what the Republican Party elite can get out of them.”
“True,” I agreed, “in the past half century, the Republicans have played on many emotions and irrational ideas to achieve power, but this will be the first time they attempt to harness nausea. And my gut feeling is - nausea won’t work.”
“Why?”
“Because,” I concluded, “if you get them feeling like they’re going to vomit on Election Day morning, they won’t go to the polls. And if millions of Americans don’t go to the polls and vote Republican on Election Day…”
“Then what?”
“Well… nobody can stop them.”
“Thanks,” O’Meanahan sighed with a distinct air of resignation. “I’m glad I ran this bedbug thing by you before suggesting it to the RNC.”
“You’re welcome,” I told him frankly.
“So, it’s time, I guess,” O’Meanahan murmured, “for me to get back to brainstorming up something else to blame Obama for.” With that, he rose, shook my hand, and got up to leave.
“O’Meanahan!” I cried out as he touched the doorknob.
“Yeah?” He turned to look at me despondently.
“Nice try.”
He gave me a brave and noble nod. “Thanks again.”
“So,” I bid him in farewell, “tonight…”
“Tonight what?” O’Meanahan interrupted.
“Sleep tight… and don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
“You’re one hell of a cold son of a [expletive], Collins,” he nodded with a tight smile. “Stone [expletive] cold.”
August 26th, 2010