He’s the absolute worst, 100th out of 100. I’ve thought this for a long time. And not just because he’s the consummate partisan hack and the Hill’s most cynical triangulator — though he is both — but because the man is profoundly small and epically dull, and what I guess you could call his “ideas” have all the boldness of plain, room-temperature oatmeal.
A few months ago we ran a slideshow of the things Chuck Schumer was doing with his commission to represent the people of the great state of New York in the upper chamber of the United States Congress, at a time when the country stands at the brink of economic calamity. Chucky was worried about the dangers of free WiFi; he wanted to regulate supposedly hallucinogenic bath salts; he wanted to keep caffeine out of malt liquor and bring maple syrup to New York IHOPs.
Now he’s worried about protecting the honor of Long Island (which is more than Long Island ever did), from John McCain’s acid wit:
Within four minutes Schumer is demanding an apology and throwing in a grotesquely gratuitous 9/11 reference. I’d call him fundamentally frivolous, but frivolity is supposed, at least, to be fun. I’d ask if there’s ever been a less important senator in the history of that august body, but Schumer is more than unimportant, he’s anti-important.
The man is a small lump of green putty in the armpit of the republic.