Delayed

I've been dipping into one of the Donna Leon Guido Brunetti novels. They're almost always a good read. She mentions, again, how it's virtually impossible to get anything done 'officially' in Italy -- you have to grease palms, you have to know the right palms to grease -- and, more than that, how the Mafia is closely integrated into most of the country's functions. If they don't like something that a bright young cop is doing, or a fervent judge, they can arrange for the cop or the judge to be transferred somewhere far away. No need for bullets; transfers happen all the time. When I come across comments like that, I think boy, thats really sad to have to live like that. I'd like to believe that someone can make it work, but apparently, in Italy, that's not the case. There's always someone, somewhere who can speed things up if they want to, and can just as easily - perhaps more - slow it down, or stop it entirely.

I think I'm glad that sort of thing doesn't happen here. Then I read about the Republicans who are invoking an old Senate rule that stops debate on amendments after two-thirty in the afternoon, essentially cutting the work day in half. And I think It doesn't, huh?