Eric Cantor, in his own oblivious way, has redefined the art of political compromise:
I believe that we have identified trillions in spending cuts, and to date, we have established a blueprint that could institute the fiscal reforms needed to start getting our fiscal house in order.
That said, each side came into these talks with certain orders, and as it stands the Democrats continue to insist that any deal must include tax increases.
And there you have it. Each side entered negotiations with "certain orders," yet those from the White House and its Democratic majority in the Senate are illegitimate, and thus obscene, while those from House Republicans are immutable, untouchable, and thus divine.
How can one earnestly negotiate with a political gangster like Cantor?
You know, Michele Bachman, once upon a time, may have had a good thought. She once openly mused to Chris Matthews that an investigation into "pro-American" and "anti-American" Members of Congress should be welcome. And what excellent timing, Michele; this debt-ceiling thing.
There's not a sober economist or conscious policy wonk who denies that a failure to raise the debt ceiling in a timely way portends anything but global catastrophe and, for our more immediate and self-centered concerns, a domestic economic collapse of unprecedented magnitude. Such an event, they say, would eclipse, even dwarf the Crash of '29 and its ensuing Great Depression, wreaking savagely unparalleled, immeasurable desolation on the republic.
Now, the lawmakers of the 1920s could be forgiven their sins, for mostly they knew not what they were doing. But what might one call the acts of contemporary lawmakers who, with full and pre-advised knowledge, understood precisely that their actions would devastate the nation and destroy its credit and severely cripple its economic future and throw millions more into unemployment and despair? What would one call the lawmakers' intentional betrayal of a national trust? There is a legal term for it.