Dear Paul,
I don't for a moment believe, as some have charged, that your heart is ten sizes too small. But let's face it, since you've penned your budget opus you've become a poster boy for pitiless greed. I bet that makes you kind of sad, and sadder yet to hear people call you the Grinch who stole Medicare. Bummer! After all, you set out to save America.
What happened? Well, I can tell you where you've gone astray. You picked the wrong "Great Book" to inspire you great work. "Atlas Shrugged" may tip the scale with its bulk, but when it comes to the qualities that make for a good society the book is a featherweight. Come on Paul, you've got small kids. When they're playing with their little friends and offer to share their toys, do you reprimend them with a John Galt tutorial on how to make a virtue out of selfishness? I bet you don't!
The book you should have read, instead, is Voltaire's "Candid." It would have saved your "Roadmap" from becoming a road-sign to a heartless America. What were you thinking when you tried to transmute Ayn Rand's ideology into fiscal policy? It's pure alchemy, a fool's errand. Speaking of fools, had you read "Candid" you would have recognized yourself in the wide-eyed, incorrigible optimist, Pangloss, doctor of metaphysico-theologico-cosmonigology, for whom human misery must inevitably lead to good.
I hate to say it Paul but, as absurd as it sounds, there's a family resemblance at play here. Your "Roadmap" looks a lot like an argument for enacting budget-balancing measures that purify the soul through suffering.
But let's get back to Voltaire.
When he wrote "Candid" he had in mind to eviscerate a philosophical assertion of his day, namely that we live in the best of all possible worlds. Indeed, bad things do happen in life, and evil does exist. But here's the good news. All catastrophes, atrocities and misfortunes that befall individuals turn out to be, if looked at correctly, necessary steps in a chain of steps leading to something better. It couldn't be otherwise since this is the best of all worlds.
Voltaire wasn't buying into any of that. It struck him as a cruel insult to suggest that human misery must be beneficial. He thought it was a dismal and hopeless notion to believe that we live in a perfect world. And so he picked up his quill, created Pangloss and assigned him the task of promoting this callous philosophy in a world gone mad with violence. He also created an innocent dupe, Candid, who was to be the recipient and witness of the philosophy's appalling consequences.
Here's the rub, Paul. Pangloss was so out of touch with reality and so fixated on his ideology that no matter how often he was flogged, burned and mangled he remained a true believer. Listen to how he instructs his naive apprentice, Candid, in the ways of life: "Private misfortunes contribute to the general good, so that the more private misfortunes there are, the more we find that all is well."
Can you believe the logic? Well Paul, you probably do. How else am I to understand your "Roadmap?"
Trust me Paul, if Voltaire was to reappear today for an encore he could do worse than to apply his acid pen to gut your mishegass. He would probably target the core Republican obsession to de-materialize taxes from the body politic of the rich and pay for it by pulling a voucher-bearing rabbit out of the entitlement hat.
Abracadabra!
Talk about adding insult to misery.
Are you still with me Paul? You're bearing up well. Listen, I'm no Voltaire, but this is what you might sound like as Ryan-Pangloss spewing off on the occult powers of tax cuts:
Imagine a catastrophic tidal wave bearing down on the Pacific coast. The Democrats are whistling their usual tune, betting on some federal program to subdue the mountain of water about to crush ordinary, hard working Americans. With no time to lose the Republican leadership short-circuits a Democratic filibuster and slashes taxes for high earners just in the nick of time. The mile high monster wave is fiscally vanquished.
Tremors in the Bay area subside after the Democratically controlled Senate caves in to Republican charges of profligate spending. In a hastily called special session, the minority party oversees the passage of an estate-tax attenuation bill designed to fiscally neutralize the seismographic activity. Aftershocks, registering at 5.5 on the Richter scale, subside within seconds of enactment.
A killer asteroid aiming for the American heatland is pulverized by...
Well Paul, you get the idea. An absurd and mean-spirited notion, tax cuts for the wealthy paid for by cuts in essential programs, is the bread and butter of Republican metaphysics. It ain't going to happen my friend, and if you keep peddling this defective dogma you'll be needing porcupine quills and skunk juice to keep the hordes of pissed-off Americans off your back.
So here's how to save your reputation. Issue a recall. Announce that you've decided to become a mensh - an upright and decent person. You don't have to jump ship and come over to our side. Stay on your GOP pachyderm. But please offer some honest sales talk as a member of the loyal opposition. Re-issue your Roadmap, but this time ground it in the reality of ordinary Americans. I guaranty your heart will grow a size or two.