The Jon Tester Chronicles

Not much going on here in Arizona, but I had an idea yesterday as we wandered in the desert (how appropriate!) that this would be a good time to start the Jon Tester Chronicles. This is the man who so charmed Montana progressives in 2006 and still holds them in rapture. I’ll add to this now and then as I am inspired and invite reader contributions.

Jon Tester believed in a “public option” for health insurance when he was elected. That’s because Max Baucus said that it meant that the public would be given the option of buying health insurance from a private company. OR ELSE. Jon still supports that kind of public option, and will fight hard for it.

Jon Tester set out one morning on his way to work to count to ten. When he got to five, he backed down.

Jon Tester thinks that we should change the last words of the national anthem to “o’er the land of the free, so why can’t we all just get along?”

Jon Tester believes, in his heart of hearts, that Notre Dame’s mascot should be called just an “Irish Fella.” He doesn’t get why “fighting” is important to them.

Jon Tester likes to tell the joke in the Senate dining room that he loves progressives … “boiled in oil!” (He usually guffaws and discharges liquids out his nostrils). He gets odd stares and polite chuckles.

Jon Tester was driving down a country road near his home one day when he saw a sticker in the window of the car ahead. It said “Progressive Insurance.” Enraged and gorged with country cider, he floored it, pulled in front of the car, slammed on the brakes, forcing the driver with her infant passenger to stop suddenly. He then flipped her off, screamed out his window “Take that, bitchwoman!”, floored it and sped home.

Jon Tester and Max Baucus are close friends. Max taught Jon all about this “being a senator shit.” He said that all you have to do is talk the right way, and people talk themselves into believing in you. That way, you can pretty much do what you want. Jon didn’t really believe it until he proposed the Forest Jobs and Recreation Act, and saw Democrats and some environmental groups line up behind it. “Holy shit,” he said to Max. “I can do anything I want!”

Jon Tester is fat, so he doesn’t get the babes like Max does. Even so, Max occasionally sends over an intern who searches amid the layers of fat for his unit. If she can find it, he gets his Monica on.

Jon Tester once told Max that he could not believe how easy it was to be a senator. He said “I vote right, money rolls in.” He told Max that all he had to do was watch out for the burrowing press. They both laughed heartily.

4 thoughts on “The Jon Tester Chronicles

  1. We must share this irresponsibility. Big fish like Baucus, Tester, and Burns before him, know we are not engaged, not watching, anticipating their every move. We elect them, and let them run wild. They know it’s catch and release for 6 long years. K Street bandits never sleep. They eat — fry ’em, boil ’em, bake ’em — enough big fish to instill fear in the rest. Quess who gets to win every match, set, game? We will always be outgunned, outmanned, out spent. But there is no excuse for not standing up for what is important. That’s on the 99%. Party loyalists knocks that down to less than 50%, so it ain’t easy. But that’s no excuse for not maintaining an active fighting spirit of dissent every day.

    George Burns used to say:

    “Wake up, get up, do something.”

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  2. ….And to what end Liz?

    Do we trade Tester for an more controlling politician? One who decides on our health our wealth and well being?

    Are you embarrassed for your cause? Cause all I hear is contorted logic, confusing rhetoric, vague innuendo.

    Then again could it be that the “masters” Alinsky, Marx, Chomsky, …etc. have set you adrift with out a rudder?

    Ya know, these people got up in the morning to “do something”.

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  3. Inge,

    Good. Now, what do you say we multiply that by some large number, Tea Party, OWS, I have no preference, all with raised voices and a few functioning gray cells, and bring it? It will only take a few million of us to sweep the bumbs out into the street and hose them back into the sewers from which they came.

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