Too Many Left Feet

Here we see an undated News of the World photograph of The Republican Party in a top-level “Strategy Dance” in preparation of the 2012 election. After the most recent Republican presidential debates, the Grand Old Party had come under withering criticism from the Democratic Party, political consultants, Quakers, Seattle baristas, Switzerland, Morris dancers, Libyan rebels, the Viennese Boys Choir, and two little girls operating a lemonade stand in DC’s Lafayette Square.

Republican insiders suggest that the party leaders had been floundering clumsily, and were willing to try anything to help them get organized. A dance metaphor seemed as good an idea as anything else they had tried to unite their energies into a cohesive team effort.

Sarah Palin, second from the left of those facing away from the camera, is inexplicably going the wrong way — walking backwards — in this shot of the “Strategy Dance” and is about to step into a badger hole. Gov Rick Perry, looking up at the heavens for clues instead of watching where he is going, wound up tripping over Ms Palin, and suffered minor reindeer antler stab wounds. Newt Gingrich decided to do his own dance and crashed into everyone, popping most of the festive balloons provided and blown up by Dick Cheney. Michele Bachmann, third from the left of those facing away from the camera, and also going the wrong way, is about to execute a sweep kick against the advancing Ron Paul, who merely jumped over her and continued his dance routine, stepping, however, into some bull moose poop.

If you zoom in on the left side of the image, you can make out Orrin Hatch in the back row riding the hobby horse given to him by George Bush Sr. George Jr is out of view behind the other strategic dancers, and was sulking, as he “wanted to ride the horsie again.”

Political dance coorespondent Mikhail Baryshnikov said that the performance indicates that their strategic choreography still needs work.

On the far right John Boehner is seen attempting to “blow his own horn” by huffing and puffing on his set of reindeer horns, as if they were a set of bagpipes. Earwitnesses admitted that the sound was abject scrannel, a combination of the infernal screeching of AC/DC blended indifferently with the atonal maunderings of Bartok. Once while waiting to tee off at his club, Boehner was observed trying a Pied Piper motif with a five-iron to lure the off-duty caddies into becoming Republicans. I don’t know if this is relevant, but it seemed worth mentioning and broke up the monotony.

An observer on the sideline noted that if you can’t dance, then you shouldn’t be in statecraft. I would say something, but I don’t want to step on any toes.

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