To me, it isn’t all that important whether House freshman Marjorie Taylor Greene, R-Georgia, is allowed to sit on any House committees. The House committees are all controlled by Democrats. She wouldn’t have any impact whether she’s at the committee meetings or not. She’d only have more opportunities to embarrass herself.
I’m not familiar with this particular sanction — no committee assignments — being imposed before. And maybe there’s something a little petty about it or that makes the Democrats seem like bullies or something. But this is all so teapot-tempest. (It should really be Republicans who want to shut her up as much as they could because she is a colossal embarrassment to her own party, which nominated and supported her.)
But I did like the hilarious, immature, hypocritical way that she decided to try to defend herself, for saying the ludicrous, deranged things she said. So mature. So strong. So self-reliant.
“I was allowed to believe things that weren’t true,” she said, in defending herself yesterday on the House floor for signing on to and repeating, and “liking” on Facebook, various deranged beliefs rooted in QAnon conspiracy theories that would be hilarious if they weren’t so danged widespread. Believing those things that she was allowed to believe “is absolutely what I regret,” she said.
The excuse of this alleged adult and leader and “representative” of her district is that she was “allowed to believe things.” She believed these “things,” she spread them, she “liked” them on Facebook.
“If it weren’t for the Facebook posts and comments I liked in 2018, I wouldn’t be standing here today, and you couldn’t point a finger and accuse me of anything wrong.” So it’s not really her fault, don’t you see?
That’s some display of personal responsibility, from an elected U.S. representative, an adult, and a member of the party that, whenever it can, purports to be the party that actually believes in taking personal responsibility for one’s own words and deeds (and, one presumes, Facebook “likes”). I didn’t think any of this tragicomedy was important enough to cry over. But it gave me a laugh.