The End of John Kasich As We Know Him (And I Feel Fine)

First of all, John Kasich is not a public servant.  He has no interest in serving the public.  He serves the special interests that have made him their spokescreature.  I suppose you could call him a private servant, since he serves such private interests as the Koch brothers, Murdoch, the ALEC agenda, all those hideous despicable frauds who have made the twentieth century so shitty.

If you reverse Kasich's pedigree, back past his million dollar contribution to the Republican Governor's Association from Murdoch, back past his stint as a whore for Lehman Brothers, past his Fox News days spouting propaganda for the aristocracy and the Bush regime, past his renunciation of Catholicism once his parents died, past even further to his college days, when, incensed by having to pay his fair share for a broken window in the dorm at Ohio State, he bitched to the university president, who took him to shake Richard Nixon's hand at a Republican fundraiser, you see him as substantial as the Pillsbury dough boy.

That's all he's been: a spokescreature.  He stands for nothing but self-interest.

Yesterday's renunciation of his signature piece of governorship may have punctured his lung (he keeps saying he needs to "catch his breath...") but it is less a win for unions than it is a wake up call to every citizen of democracy.

Perhaps Kasich felt he could not bite that hand that feeds him.  After his fluke gubernatorial win, he knew he had to cater to those who paid his way.  But if there's a paradigm shift possible in his arrogant mind, let it be this:  When you're governor, you serve the people.  Once they've decided you're a fraud with no intention of public service, they will bite back.

I hope, on Friday, when some strange compulsion to look at the clock arises, he'll see 11/11/11 at 11:11:11 and something will click in his head. He'll see his part in the twentieth century that stayed a decade too long, and, unlike so many self-serving frauds beyond redemption, he'll find the strength to atone, to finally begin the promise of a twenty first century that has been denied us; a century when looking out for the least among us constitutes the highest form of public service known.

I doubt it.  More likely, he'll get run over by our bus.