Senator Dipshit

Thursday Thrashing letter #20.

Today: Senator James Inhofe -- Oklahoma's only Mensa.

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6.27.18

Senator James Inhofe

205 Russell Senate Office Building
Washington, DC 20510-3603

Dear Senator Inhofe,

We're heading into the dog days of summer. Are you still making snowballs?

To be honest, I did a Google search and re-watched your snowball escapade in the halls of Congress. I had to convince myself someone could actually be that stupid. Holding up a snowball as evidence to debunk global warming is akin to holding up a rock and suggesting there is no intelligent life on Earth. 

Though, in your case, I'd be inclined to accept the premise.

Damn, you are one dull-witted son of a bitch. 

I'm kicking myself in the pants for waiting this long to get to you. See, I've been writing letters to every Republican in the US Senate and surprisingly, your letter has been preceded by 19 others. Which gives you some clue as to the monumental cluelessness of your brown-nosing colleagues.

If I may indulge in some further transparency, I'm going to take it pretty easy on you Senator, even though the 20,000 regular readers of my blog love when I take the thrashing stick to one of you clods.

The reasons are twofold.

You simply haven't done much in your 20 plus year career in the Senate. Rubberstamping Precedent Shitgibbon's idiocy hardly counts as an achievement.

Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, I find myself beat down today. 

Watching our democracy and the vanguard of the free world circle the toilet bowl is quite draining. I'm sure it doesn't bother you to see our Supreme Court legitimize religious discrimination, but it cuts deeply into my Hebraic roots.

And I'm sure you're equally indifferent to the plight of Central American babies snatched from the arms of their asylum-seeking mothers. White privilege, like an American Express Black Card, is something I will never understand.

Besides Senator, when all is said and done your legacy has been cemented in time. There is nothing I can say or write to detract from it. You are now, and will always be, that guy with the handful of sooty DC snow. 

And a century from now when your great, great grandchildren are scouring our dystopic landscape looking for fresh water and maybe a few cockroaches to eat, they might stumble upon an old history book that somehow escaped the tsunami of seawater that arose from the melted ice caps. 

And in that tattered history book they will see how you bravely fought off the big bad Nobel Prize winning scientists and climatologists with their fancy data and dire global warming projection models and they will read how you slew them like David did to Goliath, with your powerful, perfectly-formed snowball.

Nice work, Jimmy, nice work.

Rich Siegel

siegelrich@mac.com

Culver City, CA 90232