Sunday, March 20, 2005
Tom DeLay has generally tried to stay out of the limelight. The national limelight, that is (he doesn't mind far right crowds). The Schiavo case, whether or not he realizes it, is "smoking him out" and making him visible to a vast number of voters who probably didn't even know who he was until this week. Tom DeLay doesn't come off well. His speaking style is unimpressive. He doesn't look particularly good. And he's out there attacking Michael Schiavo. Any claim by Republicans that they are strictly looking for a fair judicial process is completely betrayed by DeLay's comments:
To speak that way about a complex medical and family matter is going to repel most people.
Dignity DeLay-ed is dignity denied. This man has no shame.
DeLay has been out of the National limelight.
He's using the Wrepublican strategery: when backed against the wall, attack!
Now he's assumed the mantle of Crusader, and will assert all attacks against him for his lack of ethics are in fact attacks on him for being a Soldier for Christ.
A slimy cockroach, indeed.
Tom DeLay is the sole reason I fervently wish there were a fire-and-brimstone, River-Styx, sulphur-belching Hades. When I was seven years old, my Sunday School teacher told me and five other trembling second-graders that if we were bad people, we would go to hell, directly to hell, without passing Go, where the debbil himself "would heap burning coals of fire over our heads for all eternity."
Sounds about right for the Hammer. Problem is, DeLay is Ol' Mr. Scratch himself.