Perpetually baffled Associated Press wonders how the liberals lost out on two votes they thought were particularly valuable to them: the right to carry firearms in National Parks, and the closing of the Guantanamo holding facility.
Liberals obviously feared the former, and wanted the latter. Their leader did not deliver either in their favor.
Best quote that shows how clueless they are: Rep. Lynn Woolsey, on why her colleagues won’t support restrictions against firearms: “It has to do with being afraid they’ll lose their election if they stand up against guns.” Yeah, the nerve of them representing what their constituents believe!
Check out this broad rationalization from any Psych 101 textbook: “Even as they grouse, however, liberal lawmakers acknowledge that no one factor explains last week’s disappointing back-to-back votes in Congress. The Obama administration is focused on other priorities, they say.”
That must be it. Or, here is another possibility. There is a lunch table crowd of dorks and morons in a high school lunchroom. You know, the unpopular kids that cluster together for mutual support. And the fact that they cannot sit anywhere else.
Suddenly, one of their own does something notable—writes an essay, or something—and the school gets all this recognition. Kid gets in the paper, and reads the essay to a riotously applauding crowd at the Big Game. Suddenly, a few of the jocks, the cheerleaders, and the hip kids start giving him the thumbs up, asking him to sit with them, and giving him rides home.
Then comes the first Bad Party of the school year, and the essay writer gets the big invite. He goes to the party, and everyone there knows him. Suddenly, at the door, is a large collection of the dork table. They brazenly stride into the now shocked silent party, help themselves to beer, and start nodding and pointing to everyone there. A few of the bigger guys form a wall, and start pushing them back toward the door.
“Wait,” says one of the mouthier dorks, “We’re with him,” and points at the essay writer…who glances at his watch, turns to a cheerleader, and asks if she has a ride home.
Thrown out, the unpopular crowd gathers on the driveway, at a loss. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell those guys to let us in!” “Yeah, well, maybe he didn’t hear us!” They mostly agree that this is the case, and somehow he was too busy talking to the cheerleader to hear them arrive. “Or maybe,” one of them thinks, “he’s too cool for us now.”
Perhaps, the reader thinks, you just aren’t as popular as you hoped his success would make you.