Jurassic Parliament: Rice Pudding, Reptiles & the Commander-in-Snooze

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This week in The Trump Dump: Washington searches for imaginary threats while several actual microphones remain dangerously switched on.

I used to think the phrase “the adults are in the room” was reassuring.

Having watched the latest political performances coming out of Washington, I would now like an inventory of the adults, confirmation that they’re following the conversation, and somebody to explain why one of them is investigating whether the pilot has a recreational tail.

Welcome to Trump’s Washington circus.

The ringmaster appears to be buffering. One senator is conducting foreign policy through a reptile enclosure. Another has declared an emergency over people dressing as woodland creatures.

And somewhere in the middle of it all, I desperately want someone to bring Mitch McConnell a rice pudding.

Mitch McConnell and the Extremely Prolonged Goodbye

McConnell returned to the Senate on September 14 after roughly three months away following a fall and subsequent recovery. He acknowledged that he wasn’t fully recovered.

Fair enough. Recovery takes time.

Which raises the question: why does Washington treat taking that time as less acceptable than returning to help steer an entire country?

The familiar turtle has re-emerged, and the institution’s response appears to be: splendid, somebody fetch the legislation.

At a Senate Agriculture Committee vote, McConnell reportedly needed his chief of staff’s prompting before responding.

Jimmy Kimmel’s comedy version supplied the rice-pudding line. Sadly, dessert was not part of the actual proceedings.

But now that the idea exists, I support the pudding amendment.

Give Mitch a bowl. Give him a comfortable chair. Give the man an afternoon without anyone whispering voting instructions into his ear.

Somewhere, a perfectly competent fifty-something is being rejected for lacking “fresh energy,” while Washington is checking whether its institutional knowledge needs another twenty minutes in the microwave.

John Kennedy: David Attenborough After Three Airport Wines

Then we have Senator John Kennedy, who went on Fox News and described the people running Iran as reptiles, grouping them with China, North Korea and Russia. His zoological briefing also assigned China’s Xi Jinping the lead role.

Apparently international relations now comes with a heat lamp.

Kennedy then reached for the phrase: “The same hooker in different dresses.”

A remarkable journey. We began in a terrarium and ended in a wardrobe department.

Somewhere in the State Department, a translator quietly removed their headphones and considered opening a bakery.

What is an ambassador supposed to do with that?

“Minister, the senator wishes to clarify whether your government is the lizard, the dress, or the sex worker. We understand this distinction may affect the next round of talks.”

And frankly, dragging sex workers into this is unfair. At least they generally establish the price, the service and the boundaries before anyone gets screwed.

Washington could learn something.

Tommy Tuberville and the Emergency Exit Fursona

Just when you think the evening’s entertainment has peaked, Tommy Tuberville approaches a microphone.

You can practically hear the collective intake of breath from everyone responsible for making America look normal.

Tuberville warned on the Senate floor that “many airline pilots, flight attendants, and air traffic controllers are part of the furry community.”

Finally. Someone addressing the issue keeping passengers awake at night.

Personally, I had been distracted by whether my flight would leave, whether my suitcase would join me, and whether the person behind me intended to perform amateur knee surgery through my seat.

But thank God Tommy has identified the real question:

Does Captain Roberts spend his weekends answering to Moonpaw?

I have several requirements for a pilot. Qualifications. Competence. Sobriety. A working understanding of which direction the ground is.

Their convention costume has yet to feature in my pre-flight assessment.

If a qualified pilot lands the plane safely, they can spend Saturday dressed as a bisexual fox with an Etsy shop. I will applaud the landing and perhaps purchase a key ring.

What does concern me is a senator who sees a complicated aviation system and decides the urgent intervention is a parliamentary investigation into fluffy trousers.

Please secure your own grasp of reality before assisting others.

Sleepy Joe Meets the Snooze Button

And then there’s Donald Trump.

At an Oval Office event, Trump revived his “Sleepy Joe” taunt before appearing to doze as others spoke.

You have to admire the efficiency.

Most politicians leave a respectable interval between an accusation and becoming its visual demonstration. Trump offers a same-day service.

There he sits. Eyes closing. Head dipping. People continuing their presentations around him.

The presidency apparently has an energy-saving mode.

And the surrounding choreography is fascinating. Everybody carries on with the determined professionalism of hotel staff discussing breakfast options while a guest quietly slides into the ornamental fountain.

I imagine the internal briefing:

If the president closes his eyes, continue praising him.

If his head drops, praise him more quietly.

If he begins snoring, describe it as a powerful statement on American manufacturing.

Nobody in this imaginary staff manual is authorised to ask whether he needs a break. That might interrupt the narrative of limitless stamina.

So the room presses on.

The emperor has no eyelids.

Could We Try a Performance Review?

Getting older does not automatically make someone incompetent. Being younger does not prevent someone from being Tommy Tuberville.

But holding power should involve demonstrating that you can actually do the job.

Pay attention. Answer questions. Explain decisions. Distinguish a documented safety problem from something alarming you encountered while scrolling.

These are not unreasonable demands. They are roughly the standards expected of someone supervising a swimming pool.

Yet when the job involves laws, public money and decisions with consequences for millions, suddenly asking about performance becomes terribly impolite.

Apparently we must respect the office so much that we stop checking whether its occupant is doing the work.

I would like to respect the public a little more.

Give people the dignity of recovery. Give them an exit. Give their colleagues permission to say that another television appearance is not a medical clearance or a demonstration of sound judgment.

And give Mitch his rice pudding.

A proper bowl. A comfortable chair. Absolutely no legislation hidden underneath the napkin.

As for animal welfare, keep Kristi Noem away from the retirement arrangements. Her own account of shooting her dog Cricket has already told us quite enough about that particular approach to managing a difficult afternoon.

The rest of us would like a functioning government.

Preferably before pudding develops a skin.