Opinion » Bill Cope

Badger bob meets Red

And the s*** hits the f**

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This time, Cope himself called and asks me to do his column--permanently. I'm not s****ing you, he wants me to take it over. He says, "It's all yours, Bob. I've gone as far as I can go. It's time for me to step aside and let someone else have their moment in the sun."

You'll recall that last week, his wife asked me to fill in because the weenie was too busy licking his own d*** after being named "Best Writer in Idaho." I agreed to do it, but insisted it was a one-time deal.

So I turned him down, but then he shifts into high snivel. "Bob, oh Bob, how can I ever write again? What can I say any better, now that I'm the best? And the worst part is, from here on people will expect it every darn time. EVER DARN TIME! Do you know what that means, Bob? It means they'll be so, so disappointed if everything I write isn't ... you know ... really, really cool. I'd rather get out while I'm on top. Just like J.D. Salinger. Better yet, like Elvis."

Sweet Jesus, what a j******! But for no other reason than to get him out of my hair, I said I'd do at least one more piece. I figure he'll come crawling back soon enough. In the meantime, I've had a question for conservative voters that goes back to when the Reagan Administration was leading those gullible d******s around like turkeys to a plucking, and this was my chance to ask it.

I decided to interview Cope's other go-to guy. Red. Born-again, true-believer, never-met-a-sack-of-Republican-b******-he-couldn't-justify ... Red. Cope hauls out the cracker every time he wants a conservative perspective, so why shouldn't I?

We'd never actually met, Red and I, and our only connection is that we're both orbiting members of Cope's circle of insanity. But he jumped at it when I called. He says, " Yews bet, Badger Bob! Any feller what's named 'Badger Bob' be hunky-dicky by me." He went on to explain how a Shoshone medicine man he met at a gun swap had enlightened him that badgers are his totem spirit guide, whatever the f*** that means. "We be like blood brudders, Badger Bob. 'Magine, yew 'n me ... blood brudders!"

I say, "Ain't that nice. Now, where do you want to meet, Red, and do you mind if I tape our conversation?" The next morning, we sat down together at a truckstop in Mountain Home over a steaming pile of biscuits and gravy.

Red: Ah like t' bring th' missuz here on Mudder's Day. They stick dem li'l umbrellas in the melon balls. She likes dat. Say, Badger Bob, git y'rself a slurpin' straw. 'At's the best way t' tackle 'em little pools o' gravy what ain't been soaked up by the bis-kwits.

BB: As I understand it, Red, you're one heck of a good Republican. About as good a Republican as there is. Have I got that right?

Red: Badger, Ah'm the reddest feller in the reddest state in George Bush's 'Merica. Ah'm 'Publican down t' the bone, brudder. A twen'y-four/seven 'Publican, 'at's me. A one-hunert an' 10 percenter!"

BB: So do you consider yourself a good person to ask about a matter relevant to all faithful Republicans?

Red: Outside o' George Bush, hizzelf, yewz couldn't find any'un better. 'Cept f'r Dick Cheney, o' course. An' Gruvner Risch, prob'ly. An' Sen'tor Craig, maybe. An' I suppose ol' Bill Frisk an' Denny Hasturn and Butch Otter an' that woman what's runnin' f'r that whatcha'm'callit job. An' then there's Colandereeza Rice an' Rush Limbo an' Bill O'Reilly an' Laura an' Bill Sally an'...

BB: Stop! Red! Jesus! I get the idea. But what I want to ask isn't about policy or current issues or anything like that, and I'm not here to get the party line on it. I just want a plain old rank-and-file, lifelong Republican voter who's never held office and never will to answer me a simple, straightforward question. Are you my man?

Red: Iz ah y'r man? Y'r dang tootin', ahz y'r man, blood brudder Badger. Fire 'way.

BB: OK, then. My question is ... as a faithful and devout Republican, do you suppose you'll ever get fed up with being a sap? A punk? A Stooge? A butt boy for the Republican machine?

Red: Gull-durn, Badger! Is ah being sand-bugged here? Is yew Chris Wallacin' me?

BB: It's a legitimate question, Red ... considering the level of corruption, cover-up, cowardice and thievery we're seeing from leaders that people like you keep voting for. We've got Congressmen skimming the cream off the milking those crooked lobbyists give to their clients, we've got an administration that's throwing pallets of taxpayer cash to crony contractors, we've got a national debt so huge it will inevitably crush the juices out of our kids, we've got jobs leaving the country like s*** through a goose, and now we've got the third U.S. House Speaker in a row involved in a sordid scandal ... not to mention the local jerks running for state office who refuse to get out in front of the whole state at once and debate because they're so cock-sure they have the job they don't think they need to be accountable to the people who pay their f***in' salaries! So I'm just wondering ... when will loyal little no-count, low-level chumps like you quit swallowing that horses*** about them being the party of traditional values and wake the holy f*** up. Is there any hope, Red? Is there any chance in hell you cheeseballs will ever snap out of your comas?

Red: Geezmanee, Badger. Y'r worse 'n Cope. Ah'm ain't sure ahz wanna be blood brudders wit' yew anymore.

BB: Damn sorry to disappoint. But I have no sympathy for people who allow themselves to get royally f***ed over and over, and then go blithefully skipping back for more come Election Day. That's why I wanted to meet you, Red ... to find out for myself just how self-abusive you really are. Now excuse me, but I gotta run. Don't worry about the check. It's on me.

Red: Er, uh, don' yews got any more questions fer me?

BB: Nope. That's all I wanted to know.

Red: But ah ain't e'en answert yah.

BB: Yup, you did, Red. You answered me before I even asked the question. A "one-hunert an' ten percenter?" How you can still be proud to call yourself a Republican, I don't know. But I got my answer.

So I left Red there, sucking gravy. But he gave me something to think over, too. Am I ... could I possibly be ... "worse 'n Cope?" S***!