In accordance with the recent Senate action that would make English our national language, I have decided not to write this column in classical Greek, a linguistic expression with which I’m more comfortable. (I just love those Greek letters on fraternity houses, although it turns out they all mean the same thing: “Beer inside.”) Despite this inconvenience, however, I am convinced that the Senate—our most deliberative body—knew what it was doing when it courageously recognized the obvious, and then acted forcefully to show it was paying attention.
In other prescient measures, the Senate also ruled that water is wet and that spinach sometimes gets stuck in your teeth and looks unsightly.
All that remains for English to become the requisite language of the land is for the House of Representatives—our least deliberative body—to approve the measure without requiring non-English speakers to be dragged from their homes and taken some place unpleasant. I’m not saying this would happen, but there’s something about the House that makes its members act a little wacky. (Which explains why the Founding Fathers originally called it the House of Doofuses, a little known fact.)
Tom DeLay, for example, was just a simple Texas exterminator when he came to the House of Representatives, and now look at him. He’s discredited, under indictment, and taking the last refuge of scoundrels: Jesus, whom he plans to represent in his new job as Christian lobbyist. In that role DeLay will be pushing a more biblical agenda on Capitol Hill, starting with more tax cuts for the rich, because that’s just what Jesus would do. (We know this because it’s right there in the Bible, someplace. Maybe in the back.)
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