Kevin Brennan Writes About What It's Like
Sure, I tried to watch the roast yesterday. That is, the hearing of the House Select Committee on Benghazi, in which Hillary Clinton was supposed to “testify” on the tragedy in Libya that took the life of four American heroes.
What I didn’t count on was that, so close to Halloween, the colorless visage of Trey Gowdy as he grilled Madame Secretary would strike deathly fear into my heart and cause me to dampen my underthings. It was hideous! Never mind that the Republican line-up is more like a display of monster masks at the local pop-up Halloween store; never mind that Clinton herself reminds me of my scary first-grade teacher, who unfairly accused me of talking during class and put me in the corner, when it was David Duncan who was talking to me; and never mind that Elijah Cummings seems like a liaison of the damned trying to communicate warnings to all mortals not to watch what is about to happen. No, the worst part is the very real possibility that this will never end!
So I had to turn it off. Here are a few of the things I did instead of watching, even if part of me did want to see if Hillary could be persuaded to commit ritual seppuku before the committee to atone for her crimes:
Visited a nearby abattoir
Walked barefooted on a bed of broken glass
Chatted with a neighbor about her gluten issues
Volunteered to clean the community stables
Read a Jennifer Weiner novel
The only way to deal with something as terrifying as the House Select Committee on Benghazi is to ritualize it as part of our Halloween pageantry. You can’t make Trey Gowdy go away, so dress up like him and go from door to door in your neighborhood wailing, “I read all the emails so you don’t have toooooo!” Make up a sign in Halloween colors that says, “Brian Williams Is Back From The Dead!”
So you see: there are ways to conquer our fears. The best is probably to convince ourselves that this is really just a bad dream and soon we’ll wake up safe and sound in Orwell’s 1984.