A blog post by Erick Erickson comparing Mitch McConnell unfavorably to Pontius Pilate and urging irate voters to mail him weasels has been tearing up the Internets lately. Because of McConnell’s suggestion that President Obama be given the ability to raise the debt ceiling on his own barring opposition from a veto-proof majority — which Erickson describes as “allowing Congress to go through a dog and pony show of feigned cuts that never get cut “ — there may soon be a deluge of weasels in his Senate office.
There is a long and illustrious tradition of mailing things indignantly or encouragingly to the offices of our elected representatives. When Rep. Preston Brooks of South Carolina brutally caned Sen. Charles Sumner of Massachusetts on the floor of the Senate before the Civil War, his constituents mailed him gold-headed canes. When Ronald Reagan expressed a fondness for jelly beans, someone made a portrait of him in 10,000 beans. When George H.W. Bush expressed a distaste for broccoli, entire trucks of it showed up near the White House.
But if the Pilate comparison is what you’re going for here, perhaps you should mail him antique hand soap. Or a London cast recording of “Jesus Christ Superstar.” Or even a Pilates tape, to imply that you didn’t quite get the concept. It might come in handy! I hear members of Congress like to work out these days when the gym isn’t being used for personal photo shoots.
For anyone dead set on mailing McConnell a weasel, I looked into this, and it seems that weasels are not bred domestically as pets. You may have to purchase one on the black market, which means that you run the risk of getting an inferior, knock-off weasel that might be contaminated with Dutch Elm.
You could try a marten instead, although there is a subtle but meaningful distinction between the two!
Erickson urges readers to send a weasel ball, which is in fact a dog toy, not a weasel, so it might send a more ambiguous message.
But why limit yourself to weasels? As long as the focus is on the debt ceiling, perhaps the Indignant Public could get together and hire an ersatz Michelangelo to paint an unflattering rendition of Sen. McConnell on the ceiling of his office. “That’s not you,” the painter could say, whenever McConnell came in and gazed up dubiously. “That’s a deceased bullfrog with wattles meant as an allegory of God.”
“Ah,” McConnell might reply.
What I am saying is, don’t limit yourself! Weasels? Martens? Whatever the opposite of broccoli is — Edible Arrangements?
The sky is the limit, or the debt ceiling, whichever you hit first.