Butter Wouldn’t Melt in her Mouth.
A phrase meant to convey insouciance but often expanded in my family’s jargon to mean patent insincerity. And this phrase resurfaces in my mind as the time before election day dwindles and the onslaught of TV advertising ramps up. There are some distinct voices I hear over and over in a multitude of ads. These voices are not as gifted as someone like Don LaFontaine, of blessed memory, but in a world driven insane with election mania they do get the job done.

Where do these voices go when election time is over? Are the people, their mouths slick with something, who can do “so and so is wrong for the people of Illinois etc.” and “but so and so is the right choice” capable of doing any other voice over work? Can they turn it down a few notches? Can they salivate over DQ sundaes or bring their terror to household insect infestations? Or do they just coast until the next round?

Dripping voices. Oozing. Overweening admiration. Terror and disdain.
Butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths.
(But I think I threw up in mine.)