“Ryan is retiring from the House next month after opting not to seek reelection. He joined the House in 1999, and has served as Speaker since 2015. He will deliver a farewell address to the House on Wednesday.” — The Hill, 12/17/18
Sing to me, O Fox Muse, of that noodle-spined hero who traveled far and wide, born in Janesville, Wisconsin, the last born son of Dracula and a polo shirt. Many cities of men he saw on Listening Tours: men who were steelworkers, and coal miners, and men who toiled and farmed and hammered and sweat; he met with men with collars of blue and skin of white, and he made a very serious Listening Face at them, which was where he pursed his lips and nodded at three-second intervals, in this way fighting the urge to yell, “Your money should be my money!”
Yes, many cities of men he saw, and learned their minds, but he could not save them from — I’m sorry, is this right, Muse? It says he was trying to save them from being able to afford healthcare? He dedicated basically his entire life to that? That’s correct as written? Okay.
Yes, many cities of men he saw, and learned their minds, but he could not save them from the horrors and tumult of affordable healthcare, hard though he strove. Recall, Muse, how, as a young man, our hero helped care for his grandmother as Medicare provided for her late-stage Alzheimer’s treatment, and how there, he vowed before Gods and Men alike, that he would dedicate his entire life to making healthcare inaccessible not only to grandmothers, but also grandfathers, and grandsons, and granddaughters, and honestly, cancer-curing puppies wearing snow boots and scarves, if that kind of legislation were ever introduced.
Remind me, O Muse, of his legislative victories, of his many bills sponsored, signed into law. This man of myth, this champion of the Pulled Bootstraps, this Hero Paul Ryan, whose nineteen years in the House of Representatives resulted in — okay, surely, Muse, this part has to be a typo. He was the primary sponsor of over 70 bills and only three of them were signed into law? One that renamed a post office and one that lowered the tax on … arrow shafts?
Okay, then, if this is what we’re working with, I guess that, uh, we sing and we celebrate our hero, Paul Davis Ryan, the man with just as many first names as sponsored bills signed into law.
Nevermind his legislative impotence! Our Victor didst perform many deeds brave and strong: we tell how he conquered his truest enemies: P-90s U, V, W, and yea, even X. We tell of red baseball caps both backwards and forward. We are reminded of his 1% wealth, his 6% body fat, his 100% punchable face.
We think of the boy Paul Ryan, who boycotted the kindergarten policy that required that any students bringing Valentines to school must bring one for everyone in the class. O Muse, he didst yelp so loud and clear about the dangers of “socialized love” that he didn’t hear the teacher explaining that this policy was put in place specifically to protect him.
Recall again Paul as a boy, the youngest of four siblings. Remember the legend of the foot race won by the young Paul, after his mother took his brothers aside and in a very angry whisper told them to be nice and let Paul win just this once. O, what songs have been sung about the head start given Paul, the exaggerated slow motion his brothers ran in, the insincere way they said, “Wow, you won, you’re so fast” when Paul, at last, crossed the line and screamed, “SUCK IT, LOSERS!” Surely we must also tell about when they got home, how Paul celebrated by flushing all of his brothers’ prescription medications down the toilet, whispering to himself, “Albuterol is EARNED.”
Ah, yes, we bid adieu to our three-named hero, our man of myth and legend. Adieu to the Libertarian Ken Doll; to the Lil’ Jon to Ayn Rand’s Usher; to the man who wanted poor people to suffer so badly even his hairline looked angry about it.
Now we gaze on as he picks up the proverbial soccer ball of his career and says, “I’m going home!” because he was losing. And so, assist me, Muse, as I say to our hero that we know that you didst set out to make history, and so, for all of your legislative and moral attempts, we say to you now that you will never be forgotten, Pete.