The people the pols praise are having trouble making ends meet.
And why we can't let Republicans cut them even more.
When it passed a bill to cut $39 billion from the food stamp program, or SNAP, the House of Representatives put the worst of the Republican party’s illogical Randism on display.
May 1998. The Stop, a small food bank in Toronto, doesn’t open for another hour but already a lineup has formed at the double-steel doors opening into a back street. I nod at one of the guys, someone I recognize, and he looks back at me hopefully. I shake my head and point to my wrist. Not yet.
This month, conservatives will return to Washington with the goal of making deep cuts to the nation’s food stamps program, or SNAP. For the most part, their rhetorical campaign against the program, which supports nearly 48 million Americans at a cost of $80 billion each year, has seized on roundabout arguments and beside-the-point criticisms.
Conservatives may have a new talking point in their crusade to downsize the food stamp program. And it's even more absurd than the previous ones.
Almost exactly ten years ago, I was on an airplane, and had the good luck to be seated next to a very distinguished, highly regarded United States senator. (Hi ho the glamorous life!) This man was a senator of the sort that they don’t make anymore. He collected honorary degrees the way other people collect stamps. He was the object of secret scorn and public praise by the young Turks of his party. Many people thought he should have been Secretary of State. He probably thought so himself. He certainly looked the part—perhaps not as much as the current holder of the job, but it was close.