Can’t We Play Dirty Too?
It’s time to gouge some eyes.
HOW THE GORE CAMPAIGN CAME BACK FROM THE DEAD.
Overtime
The Greenwood Position
Now we must fight for our country.
Peggy Noonan
Limbaugh:
Shamless Media is Laughable
Stalin said it best: "Voters decide nothing. Vote counters decide everything!"
11/22/00 4:50 p.m.
By Jack Dunphy*, an officer of the Los Angeles Police Department
My sanity was
at risk. I stopped watching the farcical events unfolding in Florida when Jesse Jackson
made his first appearance. I simply couldn't bear it any longer.
Here was the same crowd who told us that sex wasn't really sex, that perjury wasn't
really perjury, even that is wasn't really is, these people were now lecturing us on the
rule of law.
Here was the sublime irony of the son of Richard J. Daley, perhaps the greatest
fixer in modern political history, weighing in on the importance of honesty and integrity
in the counting of ballots. If I continued to watch, they would soon be coming for me in
the rubber truck.
For two weeks I have confined my television viewing to sports,
primarily football, of course. Football fans know that once a ball carrier has
"broken the plane" of the end zone he has scored a touchdown, and that even if
he then fumbles the ball to see it recovered by the opposing team the touchdown still
stands.
Fans also know that referees can be imprecise in their judgement of such
events, and that a loose ball can change hands several times as players bite, gouge eyes,
and engage in all manner of thuggery at the bottom of a dog pile before the officials can
rush in to sort things out.
What we are witnessing in Florida is the aftermath of a
hard-fought drive to the end zone. The Bush team scored on the final play of the game, but
they are now getting jobbed by the officials — the Florida supreme court — who
refuse to whistle the play dead. The refs blithely stand by as the vice president's
teammates, including the swarm charging in from the bench, pile on, and wrest the ball
from the governor's bleeding hands.
"Look what they're doing!" the Republicans say to the
officials. "They're cheating! We won the game fair and square! What about the
rules?" "Rules, schmules," the justices answer. "The rules are what we
say they are, and this game ain't over till we say it's over." The sages in the press
box, their money and their hearts on the Democratic side, nod their assent. "Sounds
good to us," they say.
So the game continues, and the advantage belongs to those who can
play rough. In this contest, it's like the nice kids from Sidwell Friends taking on the
team from the local prison.
All those dimpled and hanging chads will be thrown into the Gore pile,
and all the pregnant ones will be allowed to gestate into full-term Gore votes. (Only a
baby can be aborted, you see, never anything so precious as a chad.)
Soon we'll see William Daley or someone of his ilk on MSNBC
saying, with a straight face, that the dog ate several thousand Gore votes, which should
now be added to the vice president's total. No problem, the Florida supreme court will
say.
And when it's all over the Republicans will be left standing in
dumfounded silence as the Democrats tear down the goal posts and carry their hero from the
field. Doesn't anyone on our team know how to play dirty?
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