Supreme Smack Down

None of the Moore-ons came within twenty points of the incumbents. Riley almost doubled up Moore; Woodall had two-and-a-half times the votes as did Fowler; ditto Stewart over Zeigler.

This was the Super Bowl XXIV (San Fran 55, Denver 10) of primaries; the 1996 Fiesta Bowl (Nebraska 62, Florida 24) of elections. The electorate took to the Moore-ons’ message like consumers took to New Coke. They were the Edsel’s of candidates. Like the cavalry behind George Custer the Clones followed their leader into battle. The results were the same. The incumbents took the challengers out behind the woodshed. They opened up a big ol’ can of whupass. This. Was. Ugly.

So what does it mean? Is this the theocrats’ Stalingrad? Their Waterloo? Gettysburgh? Is this moment the wax holding their wings together melted, so that their political lives will end as did Icarus’s actual life? Will the challengers’ few supporters sulk back to their caves? Or will they support the Republicans in November? Will Mini-Moore now be quiet and do his job? Whither Roy Moore? Goodbye to his pipe dreams about the white house. Maybe he could run for some city council position? What of the Foundation for Moral Law? Is it content to file irrelevent and poorly reasoned amicus briefs? Or will it shut down? Will we soon hear cries about the activist electorate? Is God even now telling Pat Robertson that Alabama is going to suffer from a plague of locusts because we rejected the Moore-ons?

The people have spoken. The Moore-ons went too far for Alabamians. We’ll keep the taliban in Afghanistan, thank you very much. I suddenly feel better about this country. If the Moore-ons’ message couldn’t make it here, it can’t make it anywhere.

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