Monthly Archives: November 2013

Black Friday Staffer Blues

(I’m filing this missive from the North Woods, where we’re recovering from a day of turkey, sleeping and listening to “Is mommy up yet? Can we wake her up so we can have pie?” Even more, I somehow managed to strain something directly across the middle of my back, an oddity even for my spine, and thus I can’t breathe without feeling like I’m being stepped on with golf shoes… God bless us everyone…)

The kids in my intro writing class were finishing up their articles and filing out one by one on Tuesday. I was attempting to be the professor they cursed about the least: I had assigned this to be due over Thanksgiving break, but I gave them enough class time to finish it if they came to lab on Tuesday. Most of the kids walked out with a rundown but positive look on their faces. Thanksgiving came late this year and they were ready for a break.

Say what you want to about “kids these days,” but the kids I have work their asses off. They take more credits than I did per term because everything costs so much more. They also work two or sometimes three jobs to try to hold it together. They don’t come from money, so the Mitt Romney advice of “go ask your parents” isn’t going to fly with them either. Thanksgiving was pretty much the one time they had to recharge their batteries or at least shove the shackles of work away for a couple days.

A couple kids planned to go home and sleep. One kid said hunting was probably in the mix, as he whipped out a cell phone to show me a ridiculously giant buck he nabbed a couple years back. As one of the last kids was making her way to the door, I called out, “Have a great break!”

She kind of snorted and shook her head wistfully. “Uh huh…”

It was a strange reaction, so I put on my reporter hat and pried a bit more. Turns out she worked at one of the stores in the outlet mall nearby. The schedule she was forced to work made it a really poor proposition to drive home Thursday afternoon, scarf down some dinner, drive back for the “Brown Thursday” shift and then work almost the whole rest of the weekend.

This wasn’t her first Thanksgiving shopping rodeo. She’d worked the shifts before, often having to get there at 10 p.m. to set up for the midnight deluge. She’d seen the people fighting over shit they really didn’t even want but, hey, for 80 percent off, I’m getting this! Back off!

This year, however, the store opened late on Thursday, so all hands were on deck early Thursday to prepare for the same stream of screaming idiots, who would now have even more time to bitch about everything to sales associates, who had no control over anything.

The words “holiday pay” or “good money” didn’t slip from her lips once as she explained her five days of insanity. I’d bet a dollar to a dime she’d be much happier once everyone else was done “giving thanks” for everything and she could get back to a ragged and rough school schedule.

Other kids I’ve taught have told me tales of working in places where the insanity reaches a fever pitch. One of my students worked at an Office Max, where she had to help lead the charge during Black Friday. People were nuts, she told me. They knocked over displays, damaged goods, fought with each other and made the staff members’ lives a living hell. All for a good deal on pens, toner and other “festive holiday items.” Because nothing says “Merry Christmas” like a box of printer paper…

One kid told me about a training seminar her store had for Black Friday that involved being super nice to the criminally insane. She was told the people were forced to wait in the cold all night, they were jockeying for positions in line and that supplies were limited, so it was up to the staff to make sure to not upset them any more than they already were.

There is so much wrong with that sentence it could take you a year of therapy to unpack it all. It’s not the staff’s fault that the people were out there all night. That was corporate’s decision to set things up that way and the people who decided that they should give thanks by waiting in line with strangers for a discounted iPad. Even more, the fact people started treating the line like it was the starting blocks for Death Race isn’t the staff’s fault either. Couple that with the scarcity principle, brought on by the corporate assholes, and you’ve got the breakdown of Western Civilization just waiting to happen.

In other words, “Daddy’s coming home and he’s drunk again. Don’t say anything that might upset him.”

A’s point is well taken: The shoppers and the corporate assholes do have a choice. Some places around here, like Mills Fleet Farm, made a point of not opening until 6 on Friday. They even ran ads to accentuate that point, showcasing family photos of the staff members and explaining how it’s important to have that one day off for them. When I first saw one of these commercials, I had that Chris Rock moment:“I ain’t never been to jail!” “What you want a cookie?” The more I saw of the other companies’ ads, the more I realized how outside of the norm this decision was.

However, those who don’t have a choice in this ready-bake disaster are the ones who deal with the brunt of the impacts. As the “keeping up with the Joneses” approach corporations take to this shopaggedeon curry this milieu of misery, the staffers are forced to deal with what comes out the other end.

On the whole, the people who work at these places are those without a lot of other options. They might be students in need of cash. They could be people who were “downsized” from a better-paying job or retirees whose nest eggs came up short. They might be people with families for whom these people are the only means of support. They don’t make a dime extra if they sell out the store or if the shoppers are happy.

They are, however, the people who get screamed at when a distributor understocked the new Xbox. They do restack the giant piles of sweatshirts and jeans that shopper after shopper plows through with the self-restraint of a honey badger on crystal meth. They do find themselves at the end of the day bone-tired, only to know that they didn’t make anyone happy and they aren’t getting paid enough for this shit.

My only hope is that there happens to be a threshold somewhere along the way where no matter how early they start the sales, the net profit doesn’t get any higher. We’ve gone from “Black Friday” (the color of corporate hearts) to “Brown Thursday” (the color of the shit workers have to put up with) to perhaps “Yellow Wednesday” (get pissed on before the day you were supposed to get off) all in the name of more and more sales.

If not, perhaps we can stanch the shopping bloodlust by giving the employees first crack at the sale items, plus another 10 percent off.

If the shoppers will truly do any insane-ass thing for a discount, maybe they’ll take a shift on the front lines to get the deals.

Then, they can feel the horrors they hath wrought.

Friday Ferretblogging

Mr. A and I split town for a week, an overdue celebration of our 15th anniversary, and upon our return the beasties were mightily unimpressed:

Buckysleeping

You again. Whatever. When is the petsitter coming back?

A.

Black Friday Shaming

I’m just off an 8-hour flight and I am incapable of bullshit right now. What the fuck. Every year, stores advertise deals designed to encourage irresponsible behavior, people behave predictably horribly, and then there’s a whole round of OH MY GOD THIS IS WHY AMERICA SUCKS and all this other crap. I’m just so done. Shop, don’t shop, but don’t let’s act like this is some kind of horrific surprise and nobody could have predicted, etc.

And once and for fucking all can we please stop acting like this is not preventable? Like everybody just has to act like this and there’s no way for anybody to think their way out of it? It’s past time for some major lawsuits that result in the kind of judgments that change corporate behavior, and in the absence of those, it’s past time for muncipalities to start getting involved, and I don’t give a fuck about socialism and the free market.

Let the lawyers fight it out in court, but let’s at least have the fight about capacity and public safety and threats to the general welfare and whatever legal precedents we have to have. Concert venues have goddamn limits and security requirements and local ordinances they’re forced to abide by to prevent crowds and crushing and stampedes and shit. Store parking lots, where employees pass out hot chocolate and the first 100 people through the door get a free whatever, should be no different. If security is inadequate then require they hire more security. If they can’t manage the crowds then manage the crowds for them, and if people get hurt, people die, shut them the fuck down.

I know this is just me being an unreasonable hippie but I am telling you, I am about done with a bunch of grown-ass adults sitting around every year scratching their heads all WELL I DON’T KNOW BOB HOW COULD THIS HAVE HAPPENED HERF DERF when there are a thousand solutions and no will to try any of them.

A.

Black Friday Staffer Blues

(I’m filing this missive from the North Woods, where we’re recovering from a day of turkey, sleeping and listening to “Is mommy up yet? Can we wake her up so we can have pie?” Even more, I somehow managed to strain something directly across the middle of my back, an oddity even for my spine, and thus I can’t breathe without feeling like I’m being stepped on with golf shoes… God bless us everyone…)

The kids in my intro writing class were finishing up their articles and filing out one by one on Tuesday. I was attempting to be the professor they cursed about the least: I had assigned this to be due over Thanksgiving break, but I gave them enough class time to finish it if they came to lab on Tuesday. Most of the kids walked out with a rundown but positive look on their faces. Thanksgiving came late this year and they were ready for a break.

Say what you want to about “kids these days,” but the kids I have work their asses off. They take more credits than I did per term because everything costs so much more. They also work two or sometimes three jobs to try to hold it together. They don’t come from money, so the Mitt Romney advice of “go ask your parents” isn’t going to fly with them either. Thanksgiving was pretty much the one time they had to recharge their batteries or at least shove the shackles of work away for a couple days.

A couple kids planned to go home and sleep. One kid said hunting was probably in the mix, as he whipped out a cell phone to show me a ridiculously giant buck he nabbed a couple years back. As one of the last kids was making her way to the door, I called out, “Have a great break!”

She kind of snorted and shook her head wistfully. “Uh huh…”

It was a strange reaction, so I put on my reporter hat and pried a bit more. Turns out she worked at one of the stores in the outlet mall nearby. The schedule she was forced to work made it a really poor proposition to drive home Thursday afternoon, scarf down some dinner, drive back for the “Brown Thursday” shift and then work almost the whole rest of the weekend.

This wasn’t her first Thanksgiving shopping rodeo. She’d worked the shifts before, often having to get there at 10 p.m. to set up for the midnight deluge. She’d seen the people fighting over shit they really didn’t even want but, hey, for 80 percent off, I’m getting this! Back off!

This year, however, the store opened late on Thursday, so all hands were on deck early Thursday to prepare for the same stream of screaming idiots, who would now have even more time to bitch about everything to sales associates, who had no control over anything.

The words “holiday pay” or “good money” didn’t slip from her lips once as she explained her five days of insanity. I’d bet a dollar to a dime she’d be much happier once everyone else was done “giving thanks” for everything and she could get back to a ragged and rough school schedule.

Other kids I’ve taught have told me tales of working in places where the insanity reaches a fever pitch. One of my students worked at an Office Max, where she had to help lead the charge during Black Friday. People were nuts, she told me. They knocked over displays, damaged goods, fought with each other and made the staff members’ lives a living hell. All for a good deal on pens, toner and other “festive holiday items.” Because nothing says “Merry Christmas” like a box of printer paper…

One kid told me about a training seminar her store had for Black Friday that involved being super nice to the criminally insane. She was told the people were forced to wait in the cold all night, they were jockeying for positions in line and that supplies were limited, so it was up to the staff to make sure to not upset them any more than they already were.

There is so much wrong with that sentence it could take you a year of therapy to unpack it all. It’s not the staff’s fault that the people were out there all night. That was corporate’s decision to set things up that way and the people who decided that they should give thanks by waiting in line with strangers for a discounted iPad. Even more, the fact people started treating the line like it was the starting blocks for Death Race isn’t the staff’s fault either. Couple that with the scarcity principle, brought on by the corporate assholes, and you’ve got the breakdown of Western Civilization just waiting to happen.

In other words, “Daddy’s coming home and he’s drunk again. Don’t say anything that might upset him.”

A’s point is well taken: The shoppers and the corporate assholes do have a choice. Some places around here, like Mills Fleet Farm, made a point of not opening until 6 on Friday. They even ran ads to accentuate that point, showcasing family photos of the staff members and explaining how it’s important to have that one day off for them. When I first saw one of these commercials, I had that Chris Rock moment:“I ain’t never been to jail!” “What you want a cookie?” The more I saw of the other companies’ ads, the more I realized how outside of the norm this decision was.

However, those who don’t have a choice in this ready-bake disaster are the ones who deal with the brunt of the impacts. As the “keeping up with the Joneses” approach corporations take to this shopaggedeon curry this milieu of misery, the staffers are forced to deal with what comes out the other end.

On the whole, the people who work at these places are those without a lot of other options. They might be students in need of cash. They could be people who were “downsized” from a better-paying job or retirees whose nest eggs came up short. They might be people with families for whom these people are the only means of support. They don’t make a dime extra if they sell out the store or if the shoppers are happy.

They are, however, the people who get screamed at when a distributor understocked the new Xbox. They do restack the giant piles of sweatshirts and jeans that shopper after shopper plows through with the self-restraint of a honey badger on crystal meth. They do find themselves at the end of the day bone-tired, only to know that they didn’t make anyone happy and they aren’t getting paid enough for this shit.

My only hope is that there happens to be a threshold somewhere along the way where no matter how early they start the sales, the net profit doesn’t get any higher. We’ve gone from “Black Friday” (the color of corporate hearts) to “Brown Thursday” (the color of the shit workers have to put up with) to perhaps “Yellow Wednesday” (get pissed on before the day you were supposed to get off) all in the name of more and more sales.

If not, perhaps we can stanch the shopping bloodlust by giving the employees first crack at the sale items, plus another 10 percent off.

If the shoppers will truly do any insane-ass thing for a discount, maybe they’ll take a shift on the front lines to get the deals.

Then, they can feel the horrors they hath wrought.

Friday Catblogging: Geaux Tigers

Back from Thanksgivukkah in Red Stick. Just in time to watch LSU play the Hogs on teevee in, uh, Red Stick. Della Street knows who she’s rooting for:

4190935140_a6f8a814f4

Friday Catblogging: Geaux Tigers

Back from Thanksgivukkah in Red Stick. Just in time to watch LSU play the Hogs on teevee in, uh, Red Stick. Della Street knows who she’s rooting for:

4190935140_a6f8a814f4

Black Friday Shaming

I’m just off an 8-hour flight and I am incapable of bullshit right now. What the fuck. Every year, stores advertise deals designed to encourage irresponsible behavior, people behave predictably horribly, and then there’s a whole round of OH MY GOD THIS IS WHY AMERICA SUCKS and all this other crap. I’m just so done. Shop, don’t shop, but don’t let’s act like this is some kind of horrific surprise and nobody could have predicted, etc.

And once and for fucking all can we please stop acting like this is not preventable? Like everybody just has to act like this and there’s no way for anybody to think their way out of it? It’s past time for some major lawsuits that result in the kind of judgments that change corporate behavior, and in the absence of those, it’s past time for muncipalities to start getting involved, and I don’t give a fuck about socialism and the free market.

Let the lawyers fight it out in court, but let’s at least have the fight about capacity and public safety and threats to the general welfare and whatever legal precedents we have to have. Concert venues have goddamn limits and security requirements and local ordinances they’re forced to abide by to prevent crowds and crushing and stampedes and shit. Store parking lots, where employees pass out hot chocolate and the first 100 people through the door get a free whatever, should be no different. If security is inadequate then require they hire more security. If they can’t manage the crowds then manage the crowds for them, and if people get hurt, people die, shut them the fuck down.

I know this is just me being an unreasonable hippie but I am telling you, I am about done with a bunch of grown-ass adults sitting around every year scratching their heads all WELL I DON’T KNOW BOB HOW COULD THIS HAVE HAPPENED HERF DERF when there are a thousand solutions and no will to try any of them.

A.

Friday Ferretblogging

Mr. A and I split town for a week, an overdue celebration of our 15th anniversary, and upon our return the beasties were mightily unimpressed:

Buckysleeping

You again. Whatever. When is the petsitter coming back?

A.

Happy Thanksgiving

From Album 5

Wherever you are, hope you’ve managed to deal with weather, travel, or anything else. In my neck of the alluvial plain it’s cold but clear…in a few hours I’ll head towards New Iberia with a bottle of wine and a container of chicken and sausage gumbo.

Hope your holiday is happy, and a big thanks to everyone. Cheers.

Album Cover Art Wednesday: The First Family

Comedian and JFK impressionist Vaughn Meader’s career suffered collateral damage from the assassination. It never recovered from the events of 11/22/1963, which is one reason the assassination buffs have never suspected him:

Vaughn-Meader-First-Family-Cadence-LP-1962

Here’s Meader on teevee doing JFK:

Now Be Thankful

Happy Thanksgivukkah. Oy, such a holiday. Time to play a song by some goyim from Great Britain:

Pulp Fiction Thursday will return next week. I have one last holiday request, please don’t cut the toikey without me:

Now Be Thankful

Happy Thanksgivukkah. Oy, such a holiday. Time to play a song by some goyim from Great Britain:

Pulp Fiction Thursday will return next week. I have one last holiday request, please don’t cut the toikey without me:

Happy Thanksgiving

FromAlbum 5

Wherever you are, hope you’ve managed to deal with weather, travel, or anything else. In my neck of the alluvial plain it’s cold but clear…in a few hours I’ll head towards New Iberia with a bottle of wine and a container of chicken and sausage gumbo.

Hope your holiday is happy, and a big thanks to everyone. Cheers.

Cottle Call

The trolls over at Politico are hard at it. A piece by Michelle Cottle about FLOTUS and feminismhas lots of folks riled up. It claims that Michelle O (remember Jackie O?) is feminism’s worst nightmare because of the issues she’s chosen to emphasize. Lots of pundits have risen to the bait and denounced Ms. Cottle as a varmint, rustler, and all around pain in the ass. I’m not going to do that because Politico is a gossip sheet (that’s why Charlie Pierce calls it Tiger Beat on the Potomac) that is written by and for trolls.

I do, however, have one substantive comment. I was under the impression that feminism was about women having the right to make their own choices and not to have other people tell them what to do. Michelle O has chosen to focus on education, nutrition, and other rug rat related areas, which is her right. If that’s Michelle Cottle’s nightmare, so be it. I won’t be the one to use a verbal cottle prod on the Other Michelle because I know trolling when I see it, and I never feed trolls. Never.

That is all.

Paragraph Of The Day: TBogg Edition

TBogg is back and as funny as ever. In fact, the title of the quoted post would be a solid choice as headline of the week if I were picking one:How The Bashir Stole Christmas:

As you may have heard last week, Martin Bashir, who is a teevee guy on the ObaMSNBCa network, said that someone should poop and pee in shit-talkin’ word-manglin’ half-term governorin’ Sarah Palin’s mouth which is NOT A NICE THING TO SAY unless you are talking about David Vitter (R-Pampers) who will actually pay you to do that to him because he is a job creator and also he thinks it’s kind of hawt. Needless to say Bashir’s comment pissed off (but not in the mouth) Sarah Palin something fierce and you will not like a pissed-off Sarah Palin who, every night before bed, soaks herself in bathtub filled with bile and grievance and hate in order to keep her edge but also because it keeps her skin glowing and supple just like any other woman who has a decent shot at becoming a great-grandmother before the age of 54.

I foreswore posting about half-Governor Palin quite some time ago, but could not resist posting something that takes a shot at Diaper Dave. Well played, sir.

Being mindful and thankful

Among the people TIME interviewed for their piece on what public figures are thankful for is Chelsea Manning:

I’m usually hesitant to celebrate Thanksgiving Day. After all, the Puritans of the Massachusetts Bay Colony systematically terrorized and slaughtered the very same Pequot tribe that assisted the first English refugees to arrive at Plymouth Rock. So, perhaps ironically, I’m thankful that I know that, and I’m also thankful that there are people who seek out, and usually find, such truths. I’m thankful for people who, even surrounded by millions of Americans eating turkey during regularly scheduled commercial breaks in the Green Bay and Detroit football game; who, despite having been taught, often as early as five and six years old, that the “helpful natives” selflessly assisted the “poor helpless Pilgrims” and lived happily ever after, dare to ask probing, even dangerous, questions.

Given that she’s serving a 35-year prison sentence for releasing documents to WikiLeaks, that she is thankful for difficult questions and social justice pioneers (she names several who gave their lives in that pursuit) is both surprising and unsurprising.

It’s important to remember the context in which we celebrate this holiday and its problematic origins, but that doesn’t make it any less important to celebrate. Unlike Columbus Day (which has actually been renamed to Indigenous People’s Day in several places), the holiday isn’t about specific people with all of their issues. The holiday is about showing gratitude, which is a thing we should definitely be doing more than once a year, but it’s not a bad thing to be reminded to do it officially every once in a while.

What are you thankful for?

Album Cover Art Wednesday: The First Family

Comedian and JFK impressionistVaughn Meader’s career suffered collateral damage from the assassination. It never recovered from the events of 11/22/1963, which is one reason the assassination buffs have never suspected him:

Vaughn-Meader-First-Family-Cadence-LP-1962

Here’s Meader on teevee doing JFK:

Being mindful and thankful

Among the people TIME interviewed for their piece on what public figures are thankful for isChelsea Manning:

I’m usually hesitant to celebrate Thanksgiving Day. After all, the Puritans of the Massachusetts Bay Colony systematically terrorized and slaughtered the very same Pequot tribe that assisted the first English refugees to arrive at Plymouth Rock. So, perhaps ironically, I’m thankful that I know that, and I’m also thankful that there are people who seek out, and usually find, such truths. I’m thankful for people who, even surrounded by millions of Americans eating turkey during regularly scheduled commercial breaks in the Green Bay and Detroit football game; who, despite having been taught, often as early as five and six years old, that the “helpful natives” selflessly assisted the “poor helpless Pilgrims” and lived happily ever after, dare to ask probing, even dangerous, questions.

Given that she’s serving a 35-year prison sentence for releasing documents to WikiLeaks, that she is thankful for difficult questions and social justice pioneers (she names several who gave their lives in that pursuit) is both surprising and unsurprising.

It’s important to remember the context in which we celebrate this holiday and its problematic origins, but that doesn’t make it any less important to celebrate. Unlike Columbus Day (which has actually beenrenamed to Indigenous People’s Day in several places), the holiday isn’tabout specific people with all of their issues. The holiday is about showing gratitude, which is a thing we should definitely be doing more than once a year, but it’s not a bad thing to be reminded to do it officially every once in a while.

What are you thankful for?

Cottle Call

The trolls over at Politico are hard at it. A piece byMichelle Cottle about FLOTUS and feminismhas lots of folks riled up. It claims that Michelle O (remember Jackie O?) is feminism’s worst nightmare because of the issues she’s chosen to emphasize. Lots of pundits have risen to the bait and denounced Ms. Cottle as a varmint, rustler, and all around pain in the ass. I’m not going to do that because Politico is a gossip sheet (that’s why Charlie Pierce calls it Tiger Beat on the Potomac) that is written by and for trolls.

I do, however, have one substantive comment. I was under the impression that feminism was about women having the right to make their own choices and not to have other people tell them what to do. Michelle O has chosen to focus on education, nutrition, and other rug rat related areas, which is her right. If that’s Michelle Cottle’s nightmare, so be it. I won’t be the one to use a verbal cottle prod on the Other Michelle because I know trolling when I see it, and I never feed trolls. Never.

That is all.

Malaka Of The Week: John Cornyn

John Cornyn looks like a Senator from central casting. He also looks a bit like the late Texas Governor John Connally who shared a bad time and a bullet with Jack Kennedy in 1963. Of course, Connally was an intelligent man whereas John Cornyn is a malaka who I like to call Senator Cornhole. Btw, many on the Kennedy White House staff called LBJ, Rufus Cornpone, which was unfair. Cornhole is not unfair to Cornyn…

I’m surprised it took me so long to anoint Senator Cornhole as malaka of the week, he’s more than qualified. His imbecilic comments on the Tweeter Tube earned the Texan his, uh, spurs:

Amazing what WH will do to distract attention from O-care

— JohnCornyn (@JohnCornyn)November 24, 2013

I somehow doubt that Senator Cornhole does his own tweeting. It’s probably some spotty young wingnut staffer who posts stupid shit on behalf of his master, but Cornyn is responsible. Make that irresponsible. If a Democratic Senator had said something like this during the Bush years, they would have been pilloried as unpatriotic but as we all know IOKIYAR.

It’s typical of most GOPers that they’re as ardently against waging peace as they are in favor of waging war. Unless you’re Bibi Netanyahu, a Saudi Prince, or a neo-con the deal cut by John Kerry and the other Western foreign ministers is a good first step to a peaceful conclusion of this controversy:

A few weeks ago, a “senior administration official” outlined the agreement that President Obama hoped to achieve in Geneva. Some reporters who heard the briefing (including me) thought that the terms were way too one-sided, that the Iranians would never accept them. Here’s the thing: The deal just signed by Iran and the P5+1 nations (the United States, Britain, France, Russia, and China plus Germany) is precisely the hoped-for deal laid out at that briefing.

It is an interim agreement, not a treaty (which means, among other things, that it doesn’t require Senate ratification). It is meant as a first step toward a comprehensive treaty to be negotiated in the next six months. More than that, it expires in six months. In other words, if Iran and the other powers can’t agree on a follow-on accord in six months, nobody is stuck with a deal that was never meant to be permanent. There is no opportunity for traps and trickery.

Negotiations kicked into high gear back in March, long before the so-called Obamacare trainwreck, which is, in reality, involves a web site that needs fixing. Senator Cornhole and other ACA foes are the ones who are obsessed with it., which led to Cornyn’s Wag the Dogtweet. This whole thing makes me long for the day when “politics ended at the water’s edge” on most important foreign policy issues. Nobody except for irredentist neo-cons and Israeli wingnuts wants war with Iran. This is a golden opportunity to bring Iran back into the community of nations and I’m glad the administration is going for it and ignoring malakas like John Cornyn.

The other thing that troubles me about Senator Cornhole’s malakatudinous outburst is where it took place: on the Tweeter Tube. I like Twitter, it’s fun and it’s a great place for snarky one-liners. But it’s not a good place for thoughtful policy discussion, especially by senior politicians who can actually influence matters. Think about it: some bozo on John Cornyn’s staff wrote a tweet that made his boss look like the Emperor of the Moronosphere and, in turn, made him the malaka of the week.