Rushed into a kook-worthy conspiracy theory

Column

Any doubts about Will Weatherford's destiny as a Very Important Public Official evaporated during the lunch hour Monday. Never mind his ascendancy through the leadership of the Florida House of Representatives; or being named one of a dozen state legislators to watch by Governing magazine; or the big-boy elbows he's lately rubbed with Republicans playing at the national level.

Wesley Chapel's Weatherford — big brother of quarterbacks Drew and Stevie — achieved made-man status Monday by coming to the attention of Rush Limbaugh. Yes, that Rush Limbaugh. Is there another?

Now, before this historic moment, it could scarcely have occurred to anyone that Weatherford had risen so high so fast. Six years ago supporters had to explain how a vote for Ken Littlefield (I know, who?) was a vote for Will Weatherford.

And now here, in the self-proclaimed (and largely undisputed) home of American conservatism was Rush Limbaugh, radio colossus, devoting five precious, uninterrupted, first-hour broadcast minutes to Weatherford's activities as chairman of the state House Redistricting Committee.

Will Weatherford has arrived.

OK, so Weatherford took the spotlight as the focus of a Limbaugh diatribe. So Limbaugh eviscerated the GOP state House Speaker-designate for being a Mitt Romney/Republican-establishment pawn in a reapportionment process that puts freshman Congressman Allen West, the prickly, plainspoken Tea Partier from Plantation, at risk.

So what? When is the last time anybody from Pasco County rated five minutes from "radio's most listened-to talk-show host"?

Hollywood press agents used to say there was no such thing as bad publicity, so long as they spelled your name right.

Well, in the age of texting and Twitter, proper spelling is a smoldering relic on history's ash heap.

Anymore, pronunciation is everything. On that score, Limbaugh — assisted by his celebrated cochlear implant — was on the money.

Now, Limbaugh rarely indulges conspiracy theories. But on this — perhaps because West represents Limbaugh's sky blue Palm Beach neighborhood — he pushed all his kook-chips to the center of the table.

West's district, already tilting Democratic, is scheduled to become even more so. Why? Limbaugh extols the commutative properties of GOP establishmentarianism: Beltway Republicans think West is unruly. Beltway Republicans support Mitt Romney. And, well, let's let Limbaugh tell it from here.

"Weatherford is a Romney guy, and this is why people think that Romney's behind this," he says. "And many people do."

This fits Limbaugh's larger theme: Establishment Republicans are out to get conservatives. "Florida's getting two additional seats. There's no reason to write anybody out. … There's no reason to write West out. So there's obviously a political component to this. And, again, the Romney conspiracy is based on the fact that the guy in charge of redistricting is a former (sic) Romney supporter."

Shrugs Weatherford, "This is coming from groups who are trying to hurt Romney and getting desperate. It has nothing to do with me but everything to do with the race."

Moreover, Limbaugh dismissed the twin gorillas in the room: the federal Voting Rights Act and the so-called Fair Districts amendment. Here we call upon our favorite modern philosopher, E*Trade Baby: "Why doncha try reading the rules, shankapotamus ?"

Unremarked upon was several pairs of Republican incumbents, including Brooksville's Rich Nugent (one of Pasco's two congressmen) and Ocala's Cliff Stearns, being bundled into single districts. Such facts refute the conspiracy scenario.

Indeed, these things have sorted themselves out. Tequesta Republican Tom Rooney will move to the Gulf Coast to pursue a redrawn district that includes much of his old 16th, allowing West to pursue a friendlier course a few miles up Florida's Gold Coast. Where's your deep, dark scheme now?

Meanwhile, I can report first-hand, being on the business end of a Limbaugh critique is a uniquely exquisite experience, less for being skewered on Rush's nationally syndicated spit (a peculiar honor) than for listeners who call you at work sloshing verbal charcoal lighter fluid. The professional conducts an expert roasting; the amateurs are arsonists.

Heaven knows America's determined Dittoheads spent Monday burning up the lines of communication from their bunkers to the Speaker-designate's Tallahassee office.

You know what they say about the heat. If you can't stand it, better lay in a supply of asbestos long johns.