The Lesser of Two Feebles

How we condemn ourselves to mediocre representation

How many registered voters in the United States have never cast a ballot for a single candidate?

More than one might initially think—including a goodly number who'd protest vociferously that they vote in every election.

But they probably never voted for anyone; rather, they voted against a lot of people.

It is a simple reality that there is only one perfect candidate for every elected office—and we come face-to-face with that person every time we look in a mirror. Given that very few of us will ever seek election to public office, we instead cast about for a surrogate to represent us—one whose philosophy and convictions (political and otherwise) mirror our own. Another simple reality is that it's highly unlikely that any candidate on any given ballot thinks precisely as we do on every conceivable issue; rather, we're presented with a number of candidates (usually two or three—though there may be more) from whom we may choose.

At this point, three things take place:

First, we prioritize the issues of the day, determining what's most near and dear to us—those issues that compel us to take a firm stand. Some are of such import that we decide whether to vote for a specific candidate based entirely on his/her views regarding that one hot-button topic. More often, though, we probably have a handful of key issues that we place above all others–perhaps three or four–and seek a candidate who thinks alike within that milieu, subjugating our other interests as secondary issues.

Second…we compromise. (More on this in a moment.)

Third (and most important), while determining which candidate comes closer to our ideal ("closer" being a very relative term) we axiomatically identify the candidate we least desire—and vote (usually) for the one most likely to prevent the scoundrel from assuming office. (More on this in another moment—much more.)

Thus, though we set out to vote for the candidate we deem most qualified or who most closely represents our own views, we soon determine that no such candidate is in the race; we ultimately vote for a candidate not because he or she is the best, but because that candidate is less odious or has the best chance of stopping the candidate we've conversely likened to the devil incarnate. Neither is all that attractive—but one is less detestable than the other. We generally settle, then, on the candidate we've determined to be the lesser of two evils.

My wife refers to this choice as "the lesser of two feebles." (I don't know whether she coined the phrase; she was, however, the first to utter such sentiments to me—so, I'll give her the credit for it.)

When we compromise, we sometimes do so along lines that range from the sensible and practical to the downright silly. But, compromise we do—and we somehow decide on "our guy." He isn't all that we'd like to see in a candidate, but he's as close as we figure we'll be able to get. A liberal might look at a candidate and dislike that candidate's pro-life beliefs—but, he supports gun control, so he'll get the liberal's vote. A conservative might be livid about a candidate's pro-choice voting record—but, he's also a staunch Second Amendment guy, so he'll get the vote.

Now, we're faced with another matter: our desired (compromise) candidate is palatable on all the major issues—but, he's widely perceived as unelectable. Whether he's a poor public speaker, has been caught in a series of marital indiscretions, or exhibits any of a multitude of damning qualities, polls suggest that he'll never get elected. So, we compromise a little more and seek a candidate with a better chance of winning–moving us even further from our core views–as long as he isn't as loathsome as the opposition's candidate…the guy we don't want to win, because he scares us. Or because he's a Republican. Or a Democrat. (You get the idea; straight-party tickets.)

We eventually arrive at supporting some guy whose views only faintly resemble our own—but, he's not as bad as the other guy, and (most importantly) has the best chance of keeping the other guy from winning.

The lesser of two feebles.

Occasionally, we toy with the concept of a third-party candidate; when we do, we should also wish that someone would deliver a swift kick to our backsides.

In one election many years ago, I was only lukewarm in my support of Candidate A; in fact, I didn't much like him. I really despised Candidate B, however, and had resigned myself to supporting Mr. A. Then, along came Candidate C; a third-party candidate, he was more appealing than A or B—so, I voted for him.

I'm still wishing that someone might've delivered the aforementioned kick on my way to the voting booth.

It seems that Candidate C drew most of his support from Candidate A's camp; not enough to win—but enough so that it insured the election of the despised Candidate B.

Won't make that mistake again.

Having thusly winnowed-out all the best candidates, we grimly mark our ballots for the guy we hope is the lesser of two feebles. (Remember those subjugated "secondary issues" mentioned above? This is where they tend to become less "secondary"; if our compromise candidate prevails, we begin to learn how much we didn't know about him—and the blind-siding begins.)

Let's say that a recently-elected member of Congress won with less than fifty per cent of the vote (a simple plurality; very common—particularly where more than two candidates appeared on the ballot). It's safe to say that the forty-or-so-per cent of the voters who supported him weren't in complete agreement with his views (remember that he was a compromise selection, after all—even within his own party, as he probably had to defeat at least one rival in the primary campaign); it is therefore manifest that more than half of his constituency didn't want him to have the job in the first place—and it goes without saying that they have an even less favorable view of him than those who voted for him.

Is it any wonder, then, that an incumbent congressional representative might have only a 30% or 35% approval rating—or that he inspires talk of tar and feathers and a hangman's rope?

And the odds are in his favor that he'll be re-elected.

We elected him, after all, for no better reason than because he was the lesser of two feebles.

"Shut up and drink the Kool-Aid."

The 2008 election swept into the White House a candidate promising ethics, bipartisanship, transparency, and a revived economy; thus far, we've been treated to cabinet members who don't pay taxes, partisan authoritarianism, and behind-closed-doors skulduggery. And then there's that rapidly-swelling deficit, prompting one to wonder how Obama plans to make good on his claim that he'll lead us into prosperity and light "without adding a dime to the deficit"—or raising taxes.

We've already endured a steady procession of Obama appointees who seem only too eager to flaunt their socialist views—and agenda. Obama has himself spoken openly about "wealth redistribution." The ongoing saga of promised health care reform has comprised a litany of contradictions and obvious chicanery. The auto and financial industries have already been placed in the yoke of the Federal government, and the same wonderful folks who brought us those fiascoes are hell-bent to insure that the throats of both the medical and insurance communities find similar residence under Obama's boot. The newly-appointed FCC "diversity advisor" (the first ever; Obama simply created the position—along with an ever-growing list of "czars" equally exempt from the scrutiny of confirmation hearings) lectures about the need for government control of the media, extolling the virtues of that autocratic (and socialist) buffoon in Venezuela. We've seen a White House Communications Director who takes her inspiration from Mao Tse-tung (a warm, fatherly figure credited with responsibility for the deaths of 64 million of his own people). This administration hit the deck running, spending gobs of money and shaking up pretty much everything in sight within days of the transfer of power—yet can't seem to arrive at a decision on troop requests for the war in Afghanistan (an engagement pronounced by Obama to be "a necessary war") after more than two months. The long associations of Obama and many of his henchmen with allegedly corrupt organizations like ACORN have seriously called into question this "ethical" administration—and many other prominent Democrats.

Well, then…how about that promised "transparency"? Thus far, we've been allowed to see Harry Reid's closed door–from the outside–while the details of sweeping health care coverage "reform" are hammered-out by a tiny cabal within. Obama campaigned on the promise that any such proceedings would be public, televised on C-SPAN for all to see; instead, he's given us…well, Harry Reid's closed door. When Helen Thomas (hardly an icon of right-wingery) took the White House Press Secretary to task over the administration's tight control of information flow, it was a pretty good indicator that something's rotten at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. It seems almost impossible for a guy who spends as much time before the television cameras as Obama does (has he missed a day since taking office?) to spew so many words—yet tell us so little.

So…what happens when disgruntled citizens raise a fuss over any of this? Does this new, sensitive government sit up and take note, promising to address those concerns?

The basic response–in actions that speak far more loudly than words–has been: "Shut up and drink the Kool-Aid" (though some would characterize it as being more like "Shut up and bend over"). Obama's consistent reaction to criticism–or even inquiry–goes far beyond merely adopting a defensive posture or issuing a blithe dismissal. He attacks. (Just ask reporter Barbara West of station WFTV in Orlando; she dared to ask Obama's then-running-mate what was arguably the only question he faced during the campaign that wouldn't be considered a "softball"—and immediately felt the wrath of Obama for her effrontery.) Simple isolation and vilification are merely his most benign methods. He brooks no dissent, and there appears very little that he considers "over the top" on the way to getting what he wants. Furthermore, showing the audacity to question anything that comes out of this White House (or Congress, to a slightly lesser degree) immediately subjects the skeptic also to charges from Obama's legions of sycophants ranging from racism (the new first resort) to disloyalty to obstructionism to being akin to Hitler to killing Cock Robin.

By turns, both the House Speaker and the Senate Majority Leader declared that they couldn't deliver Obama's most coveted jewel–health care reform legislation–without including the "public option"; shortly thereafter, they both announced that they couldn't get legislation passed with it included. Then they couldn't get there without it. Then they couldn't include it. Again. (Repeat as necessary; frankly, they've each changed their respective stories more times than most people can keep track of. That they've repeatedly changed what they're going to call it–"public option", "government option", "consumer option", etc.– in an attempt to sneak it in under the radar has further confused matters.) Finally, Queen Mum Pelosi managed to ram through a massive bill that no one really likes or even completely understands (even her fellow Democrats candidly wondered what manner of arm-twisting and deal-making that required—and the entire effort deliberately negated bipartisan participation). She and Obama both think we should all learn to love it. (Lord knows why they would expect us to; apparently, neither of them has even read the damn' thing—nor, it seems, has anyone who voted for it.) The entire effort may prove moot, however, as indications are that the House measure won't find sufficient support in the Senate—despite a strong sense of urgency among Democrats in both houses to get a palatable measure passed quickly, lest they all find themselves facing the music in next year's mid-term election; delaying action beyond the end of this year would seriously threaten to derail the effort.

Is it any wonder that public confidence is rapidly deteriorating—not only in the Obama regime, but in Congress, as well?

After seriously depleting the treasury (and our wallets), this administration has achieved nothing that benefits the country as a whole; the economy remains in shambles, unemployment is rampant, our foreign policy is a puzzle even to our allies, and we seem a nation rudderless and adrift—one that can't even balance its own checkbook (a concept foreign to both the White House and Congress, to be sure).

Obama's answer to every problem seems to be: (a) spend more money (b) make another television appearance (c) blame Republicans in general and George W. Bush in particular–gotta wonder how long he's gonna try to milk that one–or (d) take another trip (quickly, now: has Obama spent more time in Washington—or on his road trips? Has anyone tallied-up the cost of his seemingly-endless world tour?).

Oh, and (e) …

"Shut up and drink the Kool-Aid."