There is no joy in Mudville tonight, no joy in Mudville at all.
Turned on FOX News and they had three talking heads, a traditional Republican a guy from wall street and one of their political guys. You would have recognized them
If you turned off the sound you would have thought that their daughters had just told each of them they just eloped with this really neat older guy by the name of Walter White and were going to have a really neat plural marriage with this guy who they called 'Heisenberg'
They all basically said that the House Republicans had entered a strategy that had no conceivable end game and these guys were still trying to 'wing it'. Boehner had already gone through every single negotiating position through the day and the only thing left was to take a blue pill and raise the white flag.
They were holding out for the 'conference committee' option but they all agreed that the Republicans were going to fold, just a question of when.
It brought this classic to mind:
With apologies to Ernest Thayer
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Casey_at_the_Bat
Boehner at the bat
The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville Nine that day;
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.
A straggling few got up to go in deep despair.
The rest Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, if only Boehner could get but a whack at that -
They'd put up even money, now, with Boehner at the bat
But Flynn preceded Boehner, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a pudding and the latter was a fake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Boehner's getting to the bat.
But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despised, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and the men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.
Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Boehner, mighty Boehner, was advancing to the bat.
There was ease in Boehner's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Boehner's bearing and a smile on Boehner 's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Boehner at the bat.
Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Boehner's eye, a sneer curled Boehner's lip.
And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Boehner stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped-
"That ain't my style," said Boehner. "Strike one," the umpire said.
From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand;
And it's likely they'd a-killed him had not Boehner raised his hand.
With a smile of Christian charity great Boehner's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But Boehner still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two."
"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Boehner and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Boehner wouldn't let that ball go by again.
The sneer is gone from Boehner's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Boehner's blow.
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville — mighty Boehner has struck out.
= new reply since forum marked as read
Boehner struck out~ 
Poor Cheetos....
Thanks grant, that was excellent!
