I’m not an “activist” in the classic sense of the term, and I don’t have my own blog. I am not a bagger of any kind, Tea or Fire. I am a professional political operative in Washington DC who tries to elect Democrats for a living. I have spent many late nights and many early mornings working for people and causes I believed in, and I’ve moved to faraway cities away from my friends and loved ones for low pay in order to get people elected who I thought at the very least shared my instincts for moving the country forward.
And if the House doesn’t pass health care, modified in reconciliation or not, because Scott Brown beat Martha Coakley, I am fucking done. That is it. To see my party abandon the most important domestic goal of the past fifty-odd years right as it sits on the one-yard line because Blue Dogs took a fraidy-pee and progressives took a snit is more than I frankly can handle. It’s awful to feel as if my professional and personal commitments have been so cavalierly pissed on because of overreaction to some colossal stiff beating a shitty candidate in my home state.
I’ve been saying this since day one on every measure that matters, whether it be DADT, or what, the problem is Congress. The Democrats have too many internal divisions, and the Republicans have too much unity to simply oppose, and they all know they have a golden parachute in lobbying or on Wall Street no matter what happens.