The Godzilla Amendment

by David Glenn Cox

I was watching the President’s big healthcare speech the other night

and I was struck by how many good ideas the President seems to think

John McCain has about healthcare. It seemed as though the President was

trying to pander to the sane wing of the Republican Party and

attempting to quarantine the bat shit crazies. The president still,

after all that we have been through this summer, wants a bipartisan

plan.

As he stood at the lectern he told the Democrats in the

chamber, I am a strong believer in the public option. Then he turned to

Republicans and said, I’m going to put the public option in sub

basement C, down in the bowels of a building where no more than 5% of

Americans can find it. I’m going to make it hard to find and even

harder to apply, with a host of other options they must go through

first and then, my friends, I love the public option so much that I’m

going to wait four years to implement it.



Barack Obama is no

longer a mystery to the American public and you can begin to see a

pattern in his speeches. Touch all the necessary bases; throw in a

little human interest. Bring out Ted Kennedy’s last letter and read it

like a Father Flannigan story. When the speech was over I turned to

“Countdown” to see what Keith Olbermann would say about it. I would

call it restrained praise. The President told a circular story about

what you’re not getting and why that’s really better than what you

wanted.

Remember that recently Congress instituted reforms on

the banking industry? It reined in interest rates and changed the way

the bank could charge interest on your accounts. The banking industry,

with a big smile on their face and contrite hearts, then changed the

fee schedule that banks charge, to make up for any and all losses

suffered during banking reform. When I lived in Alabama the utilities

were regulated by the Public Service Commission. A commissioner left

court one day after losing a case to the Power Company and in a moment

of candor said, “They (The Power Company) have more attorneys on staff

than we have employees.”

As I watched the end of “Countdown” my

mind began to wander because I had had enough of the Yippee Skippy

crowd. I started to drowse as I thought about the President’s speech,

and just as quickly I was out. As I tossed and turned my brain began to

dream and I saw myself in a soap bubble floating above the fray. I was

in an old Japanese Godzilla movie.

Do you remember that little

kid that was always wearing the baseball hat and going into restricted

areas despite adults standing everywhere? In my movie that kid was

Barack Obama, and just like his Japanese counterpart he was trying to

explain to the adults that Godzilla and Gamera really loved children.

That when Godzilla tromps through downtown Tokyo stomping down office

buildings he means well and he’s just misunderstood. When he picks up a

commuter train and bites it in two Godzilla is trying to tell us

something important, and we humans fail to grasp the depth of meaning

in his message.

So, in the movie when Japanese officials and

generals developed a plan to drop a new super secret weapon on

Godzilla, little Barack offers an alternative. “What if everyone gave

money to Godzilla? We could call it the I Love Godzilla Fan Club!”

The

Generals pooh poohed what a twelve-year-old Obama has to say. He

doesn’t understand that the rubber-suited super lizard is doing

billions of dollars damage to Japanese infrastructure. Do you have any

idea how hard it is to get people to use mass transit when you have

giant lizards biting the trains in two?

But little Barack

persisted and broke into Tokyo’s main TV station and broadcast his

message to all the children of Japan. “If everyone sends Godzilla $100

a month he will know that we love him and that we want to be his

friend. Then we will gain his trust and perhaps we can talk him into

staying out of downtown!”

As the money poured into the I Love

Godzilla Fan Club, the lizard was quick to buy into the political

leadership and start his own political action committee (Zilpac). He

used his burgeoning power along with automotive interests to defund

mass transit projects, because giant rubber-suited lizards just hate

mass transit.

Soon he was a celebrity, getting his picture taken

at movie premiers and being interviewed on Fox News. Godzilla had it

going on. Millions paid into the “I Love Godzilla Fan Club” every month

because they truly loved this giant, ugly, repulsive monster that did

nothing for them except promise to stay out of the way. But then a

tipping point began where people started to ask, “Do we really love

this monster? Or are we just buying him off?

Why are we

listening to the little kid when we can see with our own eyes how this

giant rubber-suited lizard is destroying our economy? How he’s killing

and maiming innocents regardless of whether they are members of the I

Love Godzilla Fan Club or not.” The crowd began to grow as the

contributions fell and so the marketing people began a new ad campaign

with Godzilla sitting in a bathtub in the countryside. “Godzilla is

Neat!” (If lizard attacks last for more than four hours seek

professional assistance.)

As the ranks of dissenters grew they

began to demand the single option. Under the single option the generals

would attempt to destroy the lizard with a super, super secret weapon.

In

the last scene the monster comes ashore and little Barack is on the

beach. “Godzilla! The children of the world love you! Please don’t

destroy the city! Please! We have sent you billions of dollars and

given in to your every demand, but these people don’t understand that

you are a force for good!”

At that moment the general puts down

his binoculars and yells “Fire!” as the giant rubber-suited lizard

steps on the twelve-year-old Barack. All that was left was his little

baseball hat, and the general yelled “Fire!” again. In an especially

badly dubbed section of the film the subordinates answer, “We cannot

fire for at least four years, sir!”

The general, in a profound

moment, then looks at the submissive female reporter who smiles a lot

but speaks only when spoken to and laments sadly, “You cannot make

deals with the monsters of this world because in the end they will only

step on you to get what they want!”

I was beginning my return

trip from the land of the sleeping and heard, “Mr. Speaker, I would

like to propose the Godzilla amendment!” I lifted my head and shook it

off my slumber to find that the TV was still on. It was the replay of

“Countdown” and what I had heard was, “Mr. Speaker, the President of

the United States.”

(photo by ken)

Ben Cohen is the editor and founder of The Daily Banter. He lives in Washington DC where he does podcasts, teaches Martial Arts, and tries to be a good father. He would be extremely disturbed if you took him too seriously.