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Honestly, the longer I live, the more I notice about who seems to have an unerring eye to human nature. Such folks can watch events for a little while, and then accurately predict how certain types of human beings will respond to them. The really creative ones take that knowledge and turn it into entertainment. Shakespeare did that. Many think of him as dusty and fusty nowadays, put off by the Elizabethan English and the rhetorical flourishes of his era, but make no mistake, he was THE quintessential observer and recorder and prophet of human nature.
In our own time, in a slightly more humble way, it's astonishing how unerringly the Monty Python troupe has managed to encapsulate human nature into vignettes that highlight the best and worst of us. Again and again, I look at some skit or sketch or fragment of their work, written or performed in the 1970s, and it appears fresh and trenchant in the light of modern politics and culture.
Today I suddenly heard Michael Palin's voice in my head. After some thought, chasing down the elusive reference, I realized that his character was embodying the very spirit of the GOP as the 110th Congress convenes next year:
SCENE: Swamp Castle
ACTION: "Sir Launcelot", portrayed by John Cleese, receives a message, a call to action, from what appears to be a damsel in distress. Acting in his own inimitable "idiom," he rushes off to affect a daring rescue. Believing that a helpless female is being forced into a distasteful marriage by a cruel parent, he races to Swamp Castle, slaughters the flower-bedecked guards at the gate, and proceeds to hack his way to the castle tower, leaving a swathe of death and destruction in his wake, including many of the wedding guests.
Unbeknownst to Sir Launcelot, the object of his chivalry is actually Herbert, the weedy son of Swamp Castle's Lord and Master, a grasping, social-climbing yokel with a Yorkshire accent who has just secured the unlovely but very wealthy Princess Lookie and her "huge tracts of land" for his son and heir. Herbert, the very picture of a poetic but wimpy youth, objects, resulting in the nonspecific plea that set off Launcelot's rampage.
When Launcelot reaches the tower, without even looking he drops to one knee before Herbert. "Oh fair one," he begins, and then looks up. "Oh, sorry..."
As Herbert makes ready to flee via a rope of sheets, and Launcelot tries to extricate himself from the misunderstanding, Dad arrives, aghast at the disaster that might deny him the chance to annex Princess Lookie's lands to his own-- for, after all, one of the bleeding victims of Launcelot's rampage was the Princess' father!
At first ready to berate Launcelot, when it is borne in upon him that the author of the disaster is actually "A very brave and INFLUENTIAL Knight, from the Court of Camelot..." he quickly revises his plan, assuring Launcelot that such little misunderstandings will happen, even as he cuts the rope of sheets from which his son is dangling. (A faint "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaugh!" from outside the window...) Plan B: He'll adopt Princess Lookie as his daughter, and marry her to Launcelot, thus getting both "huge tracts of land" AND an influential son-in-law.
Arm around Launcelot's shoulders, he leads him downstairs, making nice all the way. As they reach the courtyard, where the bloody guests are piling up the bodies of the slain and picking up the ruins of the feast, someone among the crowd spots Launcelot, and shouts out, "There he is!" An angry hum swells, as the Master of Swamp Castle mutters, "Oh, bugger..." thinking fast.
"People, people... I want to introduce you all to a very brave and INFLUENTIAL Knight..."
"He killed the bride's father!" someone objects.
In a tone of sweet reason, the Master of Swamp Castle seeks to deflect the crowd's rage. "Let's not bicker, and argue, over 'oo killed 'oo... This should be a happy occasion!" He tries to salvage something to his own advantage from the bloody mess and keep from letting a "brave and INFLUENTIAL Knight from the Court of Camelot" get lynched by an angry mob in his castle.
You know, I can just hear the GOPpies in Congress, giving the modern-day equivalent of that speech right after Speaker Pelosi convenes the Congress. "Let's not bicker, and investigate, about 'oo bribed 'oo..."
Python prophecy strikes again.
ironically, Bright
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