A while back, Amanda Marcotte had a spot-on, hilarious post comparing the Republican meltdown to our favorite felines: How Can I Say This without Insulting Cats?
One of the best things about having cats is their “meant to do that” moments. Every cat owner has a favorite story about this. When I was a child, my cat fell in the toilet and then tried to walk it off like she meant to do that.
Grey Kitty used to do equally foolish things. Her slogan could have been, “Can I Haz Feeline Grace?” She’d run headlong into her scratching post, then act as though she’d meant to hit the brakes for an emergency grooming session. My husband would call this an Übersprungshandlung, and the actual behavior was about as clunky as the word.
But does the comparison to Republicans hold water? Well, how does your average cat stack up against Dick Cheney? The cat is cuter, equally devious, amoral instead of immoral, and too sleepy to ever be evil. And did I mention cuter? Now sub “Limbaugh” for “Cheney.” “Colter” for “Cheney.” No matter the permutation, the cat comes out on top due to terminal cuteness.
Surely these people are getting desperate about how to repackage themselves. We can be glad they don’t sport tabby stripes and adorable whiskers. Or we might be in trouble. Here’s exhibit A. (By the way, Simon’s cat’s bitchy meow reminds me an awful lot of Grey Kitty’s.)