The benefits and perils of bipartisanship are described in the story of Lakshmi, the Hindu Goddess of good fortune.
Hindu theology is complicated, and has many different branches (and even has atheistic forms). One deity may have many manifestations (for instance, Radha and Tulsi are both said to be aspects of Lakshmi), but in most forms of Hinduism all deities are ultimately part of a single divine force. In the stories, however, they are usually treated as separate entities. Lakshmi is the bringer of all forms of good fortune: health, wealth, and love. She's much beloved by my Hindu sister-in-law, which may explain why there's a gorgeous Lakshmi statuette in her Jewish mother's home. (We are, to put it mildly, an ecumenical family.) Lakshmi is sometimes said to be fickle, as good fortune comes and goes at odd times. Lakshmi's story begins at a time when the lesser divinities (devas), led by Indra , were faring poorly in their ongoing conflicts with the demons. (Yes, in this post-partisan era, it's bad manners for me to cast the Republicans as demons but if the shoe fits the cloven hoof, may as well wear it.*) In desperate need of help, the devas spent many days in prayer to Vishnu , the Preserver. Vishnu appeared in a radiant blue light. He told them that they could have the greatest gift of all: the Elixir of Immortality. But they would have to get it by churning the entire Ocean of Milk (the Milky Way). To accomplish this, they would have to call a truce with the demons and work together. And that was the easy part. When Indra explained the plan to the demons, their first response was, "Are you f'ing kidding me?" But Indra pointed out that there was something in it for them. Both sides wanted the elixir, and neither side could accomplish it alone. So, the rivals struck a bipartisan compromise. First, they cut off the top of Mount Meru, the pillar of the universe, to use as a stick to churn the ocean. Vishnu took the form of a giant turtle and then swam underneath to keep it from sinking. No rope in the universe was strong enough for this task. So Vishnu sent for Vasuki, the king of the serpents. The great snake coiled his body around the mountain. The devas held onto his head, the demons held his tail, and they took turns pulling the mountain back and forth. [Illustration, if you're having trouble picturing this: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Kurma_Avatar_of_Vishnu._ca_1870.jpg ] And the Ocean of Milk began to churn. Soon a great silvery orb arose from the ocean, bathing them all in its soft light. It glided up into the sky, and became the moon. They all stared in wonder at the shiny object. But it was not the Elixir of Immortality, so they set back to work. Over the hours and days that followed, fourteen treasures were churned forth from the Ocean of Milk, including Surabhi (the sacred cow), Kalpavriksha (the wish-granting tree), Kaustubha (the word's most precious jewel), and Varuni, the Goddess of alcohol (which, surprisingly, is not the Elixir of Immortality). Finally the great serpent could take no more. He had been pushed, pulled, turned and squeezed for days. He opened his mouth and vomited his poison into the sea. Vasuki's poison was so toxic that it could end all life in the universe. The devas and demons cried out to the only on who could save them: Shiva , the Destroyer. Shiva came from heaven, bent down and drank all the venom. The poison was so strong that Shiva's neck turned blue. But the universe was saved. The devas and demons were exhausted. They had been churning the ocean for days, and still did not have the elixir. And now they were afraid: what if they brought forth more poison? Vishnu urged them to continue. This was the greatest task they had ever undertaken; it wasn't supposed to be easy. The goal was worth it. And so, slowly at first, they once again began to pull the mountain back and forth. After hours of their labor, a Goddess emerged from the sea of milk, enthroned on a giant red lotus. She was incomparably beautiful, dressed in red silk and dazzling jewels. Her body glowed with a golden radiance. Her dark eyes shone with joy and compassion. Two of her four hands made gestures of blessing and protection. A third scattered gold coins to the crowd. In her fourth hand, she held a vial with the Elixir of Immortality. Vishnu changed from his turtle guise back into his godly form. The Goddess's eyes met his, and they knew they were two halves of the same whole. Indra and the devas bowed with reverence. "Welcome, Lakshmi, Goddess of good fortune." The demons snatched the vial away, and took off running. "Quickly," Lakshmi said to Vishnu, "distract them with a shiny object." Vishnu went one better. He disguised himself as Mohini, the divine enchantress, and appeared in front of the demons. Naturally, the demons were already fighting over who got the first drops of the heavenly elixir. But they stopped when they saw "Mohini," a most voluptuous and graceful woman, wearing sparkling jewelry and very little else. The demons stood with their tongues hanging out. ** "Hello," s/he said to them. "Would you like me to dance for you?" "Mohini" began to dance, and the demons watched with undisguised ecstasy. Finally, one of the demons remembered the elixir, and spoke. "Beautiful lady, would you settle an argument for us? I am sure everyone here will accept your judgment." "Of course. Whatever pleases you." "Who should be first to drink from the Elixir of Immortality?" "What elixir?" The vial was gone. Lakshmi had slipped in and stolen it back while the demons were watching "Mohini." And now s/he also disappeared. By the time the demons returned, Lakshmi had given the vial to the devas, and every last drop of the elixir was gone. Realizing they'd been had, the demons attacked which is a bad idea when your opponent is now immortal. And that, in a lotus leaf, is bipartisanship. It's tough being the good guys. We know how it's supposed to work: we pull our end, they pull their end, and together we can create things that benefit us all. Instead we wind up getting backstabbed, over and over, by people who have no interest in bipartisanship when they think they have the upper hand. It gets wearing, having to be the bigger person all the time. At the same time, we don't want to turn into what the Republicans became when they imagined they had a permanent majority. Just opposing anything they do for the sake of party hostility isn't going to impress the Goddess of Fortune (or the voters). Or as John Cole put it: The majority of the Republicans can be counted on to act in bad faith, so bipartisanship should not be giving them symbolic nods just to get their votes. Bipartisanship should be including their good ideas when they have them. Trust me. That will be so rare, it will be obvious when they have a good idea. It will look as out of place as a whale in a salad bowl. Or a Goddess on a giant lotus rising out of a sea being churned with a snake and a mountaintop. Hey, it could happen. - written by Tara the Antisocial Social Worker's diary *I'm pretty sure Hindu demons don't actually have cloven hoofs. ** Had these been actual Republicans, Vishnu would probably have remained in male form and hinted that there was an airport restroom nearby.
