Do congressional Republicans twitch in their sleep? Sweat profusely? Scream at random and suffer all manner of strange hallucination and paroxysmal night terror? I imagine they must. I imagine House Republicans in particular, along with all GOP presidential candidates, must experience a whole range of rash, ganglion, delirium, gastrointestinal distress and inexplicable lesions in unhappy places pretty much all the time, given their uncompromising dedication to the imps and demons of Fear. How else to explain? How else to imagine what these overcooked white males – most with semi-legitimate college degrees – must endure, every day of their lives, as Guardians of the Dumb, as Protectors of the Infantile, as Defenders of That Which Shall Not Be Dislodged By Your Annoying Little Facts?