It's been quite obvious and even admitted by the denizens of the Party of No that the organization, formerly known as the Republican Party, attracts 'do nothings.' Or, in more common parlance, a bunch of lazy bums. They may talk a good game or, as they say in Texas, they're "all hat, no cattle" or "all talk, no action." But, that's actually their saving grace. People reckon, if they're not going to do anything, they're a safe bet for political office. That is, unless you're a practical person who wants to get something done. 'Do nothings' are, when you come right down to it, a waste of time. But, they're not as bad as the 'do overs.'
There's that Santayana saying about being condemned to repeat history, which I never much appreciated, especially after I realized that history is mostly "his story" and, even when it's hers, wrong. But, more recently it has occurred to me that some people, or even a whole lot, are in 'do over' mode. It may be unconscious, but their whole object in life seems to be to do the same thing over and over again. It gives them an excuse for letting things wear out and fall apart, just so they can build them up again. Or, as we saw in Iraq, they knock things down, so they can profit from building them up again. But then, if things don't get built up, as so often happens, it must be because the 'do nothings' have taken charge.
Which raises the question whether 'do nothings' and 'do overs' are a pair. If they are, what would be their objective? A constant state of desuetude? Now, there's a word whose meaning I am going to have to look up.
The dictionary says it's a state of disuse.
Desuetude. It would seem to be the end product of abuse. We've certainly seen a lot of that. Might even dub it the Cons' ambition. The Party of No, 'do nothings,' waiting for 'do overs' is adrift in a state of desuetude. Or riding on a merry-go-round?
As a metaphor for the gaggle of Republican presidential candidates, the clown car is not exactly right. True, the clowns are supposed to be amusing, but the car actually goes somewhere. These clowns, at most, are going round in circles. So, the merry-go-round comes to mind.
Interestingly enough, there's an historical hook for that thought. Turns out Trump and the Merry-go-round or Carousel go way back. Wikipedia tells the story of Coney Island--a story I did not know, having left New York for good in 1962.
In 1964, Coney Island's last remaining large theme park, Steeplechase Park, closed. The rides were auctioned off, and the property was sold to developer Fred Trump, the father of Donald Trump. Trump, convinced that the amusement area would die off once the large theme parks were gone, wanted to build luxury apartments on the old Steeplechase property. He spent ten years battling in court to get the property rezoned. At one point Trump organized a funeral for amusement parks in Coney Island. Trump invited the press to the funeral where bikini-clad girls first handed out hot dogs, then handed out stones which Fred invited all to cast through the stained-glass windows of the pavilion. Then, pronouncing the amusement park dead, he had the pavilion bulldozed. After a decade of court battles, Trump exhausted all his legal options and the property was still zoned only for amusements. He eventually leased the property to Norman Kaufman, who ran a small collection of fairground amusements on a corner of the site, calling his amusement park "Steeplechase Park".
But between the loss of both Luna Park and the original Steeplechase Park, as well as an urban-renewal plan that took place in the surrounding neighborhood where middle class houses were replaced with housing projects, fewer people visited Coney Island. With attendance dropping, many amusement owners abandoned their properties. In the late 1970s, the city came up with a plan to revitalize Coney Island by bringing in gambling casinos, as had been done in Atlantic City. The city's plans backfired when the prospect of selling property to rich casino owners created a land boom where property was bought up and the rides cleared in preparation of reselling to developers. Gambling was never legalized for Coney, and the area ended up with vacant lots.
This story of Coney Island is almost iconic. Fred Trump's schemes went nowhere and reduced the theme park to desuetude.