As much as anyone else,
I was hoping to cherish
the 29th of February as
a trouvaille, a found
day without taint.
February 28th was a banner day for the Pretty Boy Floyd of the Republican Vice-Presidential sweepstakes. Risky Santorum lost twice to the Virginia Governor's chum, Mitt Romney, as the Governor signed repeal of Virginia's single nod toward sanity in gun laws, a 20-year-old statute limiting handgun purchases to one per household per month. No limits on freedom in Virginia, at least for goodfellas who kept the Commonwealth as their private armoury before 1993. Famously the steaming septic tank of a generation of Republican resentments, the Virginia Senate is now in full orgy mode under its right-wing majority, a tocsin to humanity, everywhere.
Now, every single vested interest in lethal corporate conduct, from filthy coal to murder weapons to diabetic vend-ing in schools, carries the prestige in the Virginia Senate that misogyny and homophobia do, and there is a Governor drooling from his pen to take their pay. Yesterday, Republicans won what they vow is only their first infringement of the reproductive right of privacy.
Reason would tell you, that this one day's happy hour in Richmond would spell the end of a Governor's ambitions for national office; that his call for an "uninvasive" invasion of human rights would carry all the moral weight of the "light" cigarette, that foul jest of the Commonwealth's largest industry; that his bending over for Browning and Colt would not look like a favour to freedom, anywhere. But Republicans are nothing if not the hysterics of their passions that they are for their excuses, and quite blind to unsuitabilities the nation sees too clearly. To their rush to repeal modernity, this Governor's an ideal ornament.
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