And if you are going to make this about Jesus then little things like the number of wives you divorced in a hospital bed becomes relevant. - Margaret and Helen
And if you’re going to make this about the sanctity of marriage, then little things like adultery and hypocrisy can be swept aside and become your media opportunity to show false outrage and indignation over the evil nature of news reporting.
I loathe Newt Gingrich.
There, I’ve said it. Gingrich is a repugnant, repugnant, vile man. Urging us all to see him as the “smartest man in the room” is like dressing a slop-covered pig in a ball gown. It’s pretty—the rhinestones, the satin, the long train—but underneath it all, it’s still slop and a pig.
Forgive me, pigs. You are a noble beast. I needed a metaphor and you were available.
I wonder sometimes if we Americans have lost the capacity for outrage and disgust. Or, we’re so damn morally “it’s all relative” that we can excuse hideous behavior. We can partition off our disgust into a dark, airless corner where it won’t taint our laissez-faire attitude about our politicians’ behavior and character.
Hypocrisy. You think it mixes well with politics? You want that? Really?
I know how I’d react if we stood by and ignored a thief condemning stealing in others. I know what my reaction would be towards a child molester if he derided unwed mothers for their sinful predicament. And my reaction towards hypocritical politicians who speak out against gay marriage because it violates the sanctity of the institution? Disgust, of course.
I also pledge to uphold the institution of marriage through personal fidelity to my spouse and respect for the marital bonds of others. Newt Gingrich (Yes, that Newt Gingrich.)
It doesn’t matter to me if a person is Republican, Democrat, Independent, or Apolitical. It doesn’t matter to me if a person has never held a political office and is quietly, anonymously toiling away at a factory. Talk the walk. If you’ve walked in the shoes of an adulterer, you don’t have a right to spew indignation and self-righteous anger because someone reminds you that your present opinions about the sanctity of marriage screams loudly in direct conflict with your past.
Okay, you do have a right to behave like a petulant, rageful hypocrite. This is America, after all. Land of the free and the freely repulsive.
Have we so lost our way, though, that we can no longer demand or expect decent, authentic behavior in our politicians? I, for one, never ever said, “Let’s lower the bar. Let’s let the worst of us represent our interests in government.” Which of you just gave up and stopped expecting better?
This is my bugaboo—my inability and refusal to say it’s okay that you’ve been a swine, a cad, a cheater, and a liar if you’re living a life that flies in the face of that, or if you’re falsely honoring an institution that you’ve violated numerous times, AND withholding it from others you believe aren’t fit to experience it.
Redemption. We all love a good redemption story. But Newt’s redemption story is written in the sand. It’s as temporary and insubstantial as chalk on a sidewalk.
And to go along with Newt’s redemption sandwich are huge side orders of deflection, which drew applause from the depraved and the nincompoops in the audience during the last debate. It’s a strategy used by small children, who, upon being told on by a sibling for stealing, shriek, “Johnny is a tattletale! Being a tattletale is bad!”
Some of us fall for that ploy and are distracted from the underlying sin. Some of us don’t.
Sometimes it helps to laugh. Maybe.
