Nancy Mace stands apart. She sees the mess for what it is. She calls it out. She moves against it while the rest of them drown in their own cowardice. She has a sharpness that cuts through the thick fog of lies and theater. She is not without flaws, but at least she has the courage to speak. In a field of weeds, she is a blade of grass.

But the rest—God help us, the rest. Mitch McConnell looms like a ghost over the ruins he created. He does not lead. He waits, cold and deliberate, watching the walls crumble around him. He does not fight for his country. He fights only to keep the game alive, so he can die knowing he played it longer than anyone else. His silence speaks louder than the bark of the radicals beneath him. He is not their master anymore; he is their servant.

The rest are worse. They shout and bicker, chasing their own tails like rabid dogs. They do not know what they want beyond applause and chaos. They will hold hearings not to find truth but to perform lies. They will flirt with shutdowns and collapses because they have no idea what governing is supposed to feel like. They mistake recklessness for boldness. They mistake destruction for strength.

They will not legislate. They will burn. They will burn each other, burn the country, burn anything that might stand as a reminder of what this Congress should have been. They do not care. They do not know how to care. They are too busy fighting each other to notice that the ship they are on is sinking.

Nancy Mace may survive the wreckage. The others will drown in it. They will leave behind nothing but ash and echoes. This will not be a Congress. It will be a funeral, and the Republican caucus will bury the nation with it.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5668381&forum_id=2#48580331)