Narrative established, or Boehnermandias

While I can’t be sure that anyone is actually going to be reading these words, since it’s possible and even likely that the government shutdown has killed every single one of us in our sleep, future historians who stumble upon the ruins of our civilization will know who was responsible for bringing us to this nefarious moment of unspeakable peril. Allow the Associated Press to explain, via the Strib:

For the first time in nearly two decades, the federal government staggered into a partial shutdown early Tuesday morning after congressional Republicans stubbornly demanded changes in the nation’s health care law as the price for essential federal funding and President Barack Obama and Democrats adamantly refused.

As Congress gridlocked, Obama said a “shutdown will have a very real economic impact on real people, right away,” with hundreds of thousands of federal workers furloughed and veterans’ centers, national parks, most of the space agency and other government operations shuttered.

Emphasis mine. Is it better to be stubborn or adamant? Well, let’s see: the online Merriam-Webster dictionary says the following:

Unreasonably and perversely unyielding, doncha know

Meanwhile, adamant is a smidge less pejorative:

Unshakable and determined? That’s good, right?

The position that the sainted Democrats take is this: we won, so we get to spend whatever money we want and that’s that. It isn’t particularly important that the Republican House sent numerous proposals over to the Senate, each a little more conciliatory than the previous one, since the Democrats are sainted, and saints are adamant. It’s those stubborn Republican bastards who won’t get with the program, since it’s unreasonable and perverse to disagree with Democrats. I’m sure that all of this is true, because it’s right there in the paper. Some future Shelley will record it thus:

 I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of orange face,
Tell that the AP well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on employer mandates,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
“My name is Boehnermandias, House Speaker:
Look on my works, ye Harry, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

Cross-posted and comments welcome at Mr. Dilletante’s Neighborhood