Huzzah! The Washington Post Op-Ed page is relevant again, to Harry Reid! This makes up for the loss of journalistimistical champions Woodward and Bernstein and also legendary tablecloth-reviewerSally Quinn. (Oh wait, she has a blog! This is what happens, when you are an alleged former mistress and confirmed lifelong dingbat; you get to write a blog about Jesus.)


Anyway. Harry was kicking it as per usual, just thinkin' about magical underpants and golden tablets that never existed, when all of a sudden he or his aide stumbled upon Michael Gerson's WaPo column on what a pussy pusbag Lindsey "Mean Girls" Graham has been lately, trying to deny citizenship to little brown babies (and white ones too, oops!) whose mommies and daddies were born in Pooristan or Suxico. And this column made Harry feel strange and, you know, angry. But in a good way? And also validated? And so he decided to share it with a crowd of humans, during Storytime with Unca Harry.

Your Talking Points Memo sez he read aloud the following passage from the Gerson piece:

The authors of the Fourteenth Amendment guaranteed citizenship to all people "born or naturalized in the United States" for a reason. They wished to directly repudiate the Dred Scott decision, which said that citizenship could be granted or denied by political caprice.

They purposely chose an objective standard of citizenship -- birth -- that was not subject to politics. Reconstruction leaders established a firm, sound principle: To be an American citizen, you don't have to please a majority, you just have to be born here.

In terms of poetic and cultural significance, Harry Reid quoting Michael Gerson is the same as Black Star sampling Gil Scott-Heron and Brian Jackson on "Brown Skin Lady." It is also the same as whenever Jesus quoted God, which if you're Catholic was every single time he opened his mouth (THINK ABOUT IT).

So after he finished regurgitating Gerson, Harry laid down the smack on Republicans thusly: "They've either taken leave of their senses or their principles."

Obviously, the only thing left to do was throw down the mic, flip the double bird at the crowd, and disappear into a cloud of smoke generated by the earthly incarnation of Brigham Young's ghostly corncob pipe. And that's exactly what Harry Reid did. [TPM]

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