RNC Moves Convention To Van By The River, Maybe They Can Fill That Up
Pointing and laughing at poor, persecuted Brad Parscale's demotion from his role as Trump campaign manager is delicious. But let's not neglect this opportunity to point and laugh at the RNC's ongoing convention debacle, as the organization finally taps out and admits it won't be able to pack the arena with 15,000 maskless MAGAts belching virus droplets into each other's faces to launch the Dear Leader's farewell tour.
While the Democrats long ago moved their convention online, the RNC's planning has been hampered by the necessity of denying reality at every turn. Instead of acknowledging that COVID is surging in large swaths of the country due to the Trump administration's utter failure to address the pandemic, the party and its planners have been forced to conduct themselves as if in-person mass gatherings with no masks or social distancing are a GREAT IDEA! The best! Nothing less will be accepted!
Six weeks ago President Arty McDeals set fire to two years of work and $38 million in donor cash when he stomped out of North Carolina, and poor Ronna Romney McDaniel had to put on a brave face and pretend it was all Democratic Governor Roy Cooper's fault for refusing to guarantee a mask-free, packed hall in August. Pour one out for Ronna and her soul, which the devil will not be returning any time soon.
Luckily, Governor Ron DeSantis was eager to welcome the Gippers with open arms into Florida's warm and muggy embrace. Unluckily, coronavirus had simultaneously decided to embrace DeSantis's benighted constituents. So the GOP set about planning a party for 15,000 people in just three months, an impossible task when the country isn't in the grips of contagion.
As Florida's COVID numbers climbed, Republican luminaries suddenly remembered long-planned bikini waxes at home that simply could not be rescheduled.
"I have some things to do in Kansas that I've got to do," retiring Kansas Senator Pat Roberts told the Washington Post. Don't forget to take ibuprofen first, senator!
So the RNC put their heads together to come up with A PLAN for the convention. What if they moved it to the Jaguars' TIAA Stadium, with its pool deck. Who wants to relax in the hot tub with Jim Jordan? Don't worry, he won't look!
Then they toyed with moving the party outside. In Florida. In August. During hurricane season.
Yesterday, reality won another round with McDaniel acknowledging in a letter to the RNC faithful that the guest list would have to be cut drastically. While the original plan was to have 15,000 attendees, indoor events will be limited to just the 2,550 delegates.
"Admittance to the convention venue for the first three days of the convention celebration in Jacksonville (August 24, 25, 26) will be limited to regular delegates only," McDaniel wrote.
But hey, for the final speech on August 27 when Trump actually accepts the nomination, "we plan that each delegate, their guest, and alternate delegates will be permitted to attend." Hooray that is a whole 7,500 people! Which is probably exactly what they could have gotten if they'd stayed in North Carolina in the first place. On the other hand, mosquito-borne Zika hasn't become endemic in Charlotte the way it is in Florida. So, blowing up that $38 million the RNC already spent in North Carolina was probably worth it.
And you know this party is going to be awesome because Lara Trump, Hope Hicks, and Stephen Miller will be planning it. Oh, hey, aren't those last two government employees whose salaries are paid with American tax dollars? LOL!
"I want to make clear that we still intend to host a fantastic convention celebration in Jacksonville," McDaniel promised. "We can gather and put on a top-notch event that celebrates the incredible accomplishments of President Trump's administration and his re-nomination for a second term — while also doing so in a safe and responsible manner."
Unless there is a tropical storm. Or a hurricane. Or a massive COVID outbreak at the venue. Or rabid swarms of howler monkeys. Or some other act of a vengeful God who has clearly had it up to here with these assholes we put in charge of the county.
But barring that, it's gonna be a rager!
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Liz Dye lives in Baltimore with her wonderful husband and a houseful of teenagers. When she isn't being mad about a thing on the internet, she's hiding in plain sight in the carpool line. She's the one wearing yoga pants glaring at her phone.