I just spent the last year (and a bit of my money) on Bernie 2.0, only to run into the same damn iceberg we hit the last time.
When Empress Inevitable was the front runner in 2016, the DNC cleared the field for her coronation, and only Sen. Bernie Sanders stepped in to make a contest of it. This time, with Bernie the presumptive frontrunner (unless you want to count cognitively-challenged Creepy Uncle Joe), the DNC flooded the field with enough aspirants to assemble a football team, both offensive and defensive squads.
It appeared Bernie might actually make it happen this time, but:
- Elizabeth Warren split the progressive vote, lied about Bernie saying a woman couldn’t win and, to put the cherry on the ice cream sundae, refused to endorse Bernie when she deservedly flamed out because her feelings had been hurt or something.
- Prior to Super Tuesday, most of the remaining candidates, as if having heard the same subsonic dog whistle inaudible to us mere humans, simultaneously dropped out and endorsed Creepy Uncle Joe. (Special kudos to Pete Buttigieg in this regard: how many of us get to fulfill the childhood fantasy of growing up to stab our idol in the back?)
As the fearless leaders of MPP predicted, there was no way the DNC would let Bernie get the nomination. So here I am, the prodigal son, returning to the fold of MPP. As the saying goes, “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.”
This isn’t a slam against Bernie: he made a heroic effort. It is, however, a slam against the Democratic Party or, as I like to think of them, the spare tire of the ruling class. I’ve missed you guys, and it’s good to be back.