Mitch McConnell enjoys his life. He gets a great deal of enjoyment out of throwing shade at former President Barack Obama and sidling up to the current president. He is rarely, if ever, seen in photographs taken in his home state. Instead, he spends the majority of his time posturing and basking in his own distorted (and apparently positive) self-image. Meanwhile…
Kentucky, his home state, is the sixth least educated state, fifth poorest state, eighth highest state in adult obesity while also being third worst in youth obesity, and the state ranks 44th in health. So you have an inordinate amount of poor, unhealthy people desperately in need of capable representation. They need someone to act on their behalf. And it ain’t Mitch.
We know two things for certain. Mitch McConnell, like all the rest of us, is not immortal. At some point, he will close his eyes for the last time, as will we all. The second thing we know for certain is that there will be a reckoning. The cheddar rounds you eat today are the cause of the double bypass you will have tomorrow. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Retribution. Remuneration. Judgment.
All his life, famed poet T.S. Eliot criticized and belittled religious people — until he was on his death bed. Then, with all the remaining strength he had in his body, he asked for a priest to deliver Last Rites. It seems that the thought of facing the after-life, with all his imperfections on his head (to steal from Hamlet) was something that filled him with fear. If your task is to “look after orphans and widows in their distress,” and you ignore that responsibility, for shame! But take heart, Double M, they say it’s a dry heat.