Not a rueful demon contemplating a career change and sniffing disinterestedly at your party favors:
Former Arkansas Gov. Mike Huckabee said yesterday that Christian conservatives will become “irrelevant” to the political process if they give up their core convictions for expediency’s sake.
“Christian conservatives are on the brink of becoming irrelevant in this election cycle if they do not remain active because they really believe something about their faith that drives them into the political arena,” he said… “If they say those issues are not as important this time; if they say the real issues are taxes or national security, then frankly, they are just another Republican special interest group.”
In other words, “Listen, you bitchez—I’ve been spewing hatred for Teh Gays and Uppity Womenzfolk from here to Timbuktu because that’s what we all agreed being a conservative Christian was all about. If you change your minds now and start talking about taxes and national security and shit, I’m going to look like a fucking idiot, so less of the crazytalk and more faith-based hating!”
Mr. Huckabee, who barely registers in national polls, is hoping that the Republican Party’s evangelical base is unhappy with the current leaders in the race and that there might be room for a traditional-values candidate. Not only does he oppose abortion and same-sex “marriage,” he also believes creationism should be taught in schools alongside evolution.
Yep, he’s a genuine 30-percenter, all right. Or, at least he’s real good at pretending to be one. So good, in fact, that now he’s got nowhere to go if conservative Christians aren’t going to hold up their end of the wicked bargain they struck with the GOP.
The problem with Huckabee, and the other faith-based hate candidates like Brownback, is that they’re the last guys to leave a party, the ones you’ve got to throw out, because they don’t realize the party is over, no matter how many times you yawn or note how late it is or mention you’ve got to get up early tomorrow. Their base—their “good” Christian, faith-based hater base—always was just another Republican special interest group.
Always has been, always will be.
And like any other Republican special interest group, the faith-based haters are hardcore party freaks. The GOP inherited peace and prosperity and a budget surplus from the Clinton administration, and they thought, “Let’s throw us a party!”
So they did. They threw a massive, bacchanalian orgy of tax cuts and pork barrel spending and a huge war (complete with shock and awe, mofos!), and the revelry raged on for more than half a decade until every conservative wet dream had been realized, and Grover Norquist slumped in a wine-stained bathtub and said, “I’m fucking wrecked,” and didn’t even care that the government was bigger than ever nor that the impression of the drain on his own chubby ass cheek was an ironic metaphorical mindfuck of mythic proportions.
And the Christian conservatives, well, they partied right along, pumping their fists in the air along to the beat and calling for the heads of the gays and the uppity womenfolk, because it’s all just so much goddamned fun when you’re stuffing your face with free food and booze at the party to end all parties.
But then the food starts to run out. And the booze. And people are getting sick and the sunlight’s coming in the windows and you notice that the place is a disgusting wreck and someone’s been raped in a room upstairs and the cops have been called.
Fuck. Party’s really over. And if you’re lucky, your coat and your bag might have been puked on, so they didn’t get stolen.
The Democrats are called in to clean up the mess, and they show up with their brooms and their gloves and they grumble these people ate all their Halloween candy in one sitting, I bet, then bullied abstemious kids for theirs.
And as the cleaner-uppers stream in, and the partygoers stream out, Huckabee and Brownback et. al. stand inside the front door, asking, “Where’s everybody going? Come on, you guys—the night is young! I’ve got half a bottle of champagne left!” Everyone wandering past them, heading for home, gives them a look of disdain, because they are too foolish to know the party is over.
The contemptuous lot hold their heads and blink at the cold light of day, grimacing with their mouths of cotton and swearing they’ll never drink again, dude.
But they will. Just as soon as someone else gets the place cleaned up again.