I know that a lot of people continue to call for Obama’s impeachment, but it’s an exercise in futility. The Republicans can’t, even though Obama has treated the Constitution as if it was an old rag, and the Democrats won’t. We had a great opportunity to dump him in 2012 and replace him with Mitt Romney, and we blew it.

That doesn’t mean that we have to sit back and patiently count off the hours until Harry Reid decides to retire. I have suggested that Nevadans recall him in the past and I continue to urge them to take action.

I have heard that Reid’s entire career is based on the support of the unions and the owners of Vegas casinos, and, quite frankly, I don’t get it. What is it that Nevada’s unions like about Reid? Is it his to-die-for impression of a zombie? Do they find his charm and wit so beguiling that they are willing to overlook the highest rate of unemployment in the United States?

And just what is it that the casino operators find so compelling about him? He hasn’t even been able to persuade the DNC to hold one of their presidential conventions in Las Vegas.

Now that he has shown his true colors by having his former aide, and currently the head of the Bureau of Land Management, sic the mad dogs of the BLM on cattle rancher Cliven Bundy, so that Reid can turn a personal profit off the acreage, what’s keeping Nevada’s Republicans from moving to have the old bastard recalled?

For that matter, why is it that Senate Democrats don’t rise up and get themselves another majority leader? Reid has shown the same disinterest as Obama in saving his colleague’s Senate seats in November. Frankly, their cavalier attitude even has me shaking my head, although I’d be fibbing if I said I didn’t appreciate their bizarre behavior.

When every red state Democrat is running as fast as his or her little legs can carry them from ObamaCare; when every oil state Democrat is pleading with Reid to let them at least cast votes supporting the Keystone pipeline; and when every coal state Democrat is begging Obama and Reid to stop trying to put America’s coal industry out of business, their rational pleas continue to fall on deaf ears.

Speaking of coal, leftwing environmental billionaire Tom Steyer, 57, recently awoke to find a massive lump of the stuff lying on a pillow by his head, reminding some people of the horse’s head the studio boss found in his bed in “The Godfather.” I could hardly be more delighted if he’d found that overnight his entire fortune had disappeared, all due to his failure to sign up with LifeLock.

As many of you are aware, Mr. Steyer has pledged $100 million to helping elect senators who share his environmental concerns and to defeat those who have managed to retain the brains God gave them. One of his major pet peeves is the Keystone Pipeline, and is the reason that Obama has decided to put off making a final decision about it until after the midterm elections.

Now I would think that if I were about to hand over $100 million to the Democrats, I’d expect Obama to stop it dead here and now, rather than risk that the day after the elections, Obama would call me and say, “Sorry, Tom, but I’m getting a ton of pressure from the damn unions, and I’ve got to green light the project.” But, then, Steyer has probably limited his gambling to Wall Street and has never played poker.

It now turns out that Mr. Steyer, whose resume includes stints at Morgan Stanley and Goldman Sachs is a major investor in Kinder Morgan, which has an alternative plan to the Keystone in the works. As if that’s not smarmy enough, Steyer made a large portion of his fortune in, of all things, coal! It seems that Farallon Capital Management, the firm he ran until recently, was heavily invested in foreign coal mining. So, apparently, it’s only American coal miners and the American coal mining industry that he finds so repellant, in much the same way that Obama, who claims to hate oil the way I hate gefilte fish, provided Brazil with two billion of our tax dollars so they could develop their offshore oil resources.

Because it was kept out of the news in 2012, at the behest of the White House, I only recently discovered that during Spring break that year, Malia Obama, then 13, took off for Oaxaca, Mexico in two jets, with 12 friends and 25 Secret Service men in tow. Inasmuch as we all paid for it, you’d have thought Michelle would have had the kid send out 300 million thank-you notes once she got home. But, alas, like mother, like daughter.

To be fair to the ladies in the family, one could say that Barack is the one who sets the tone. As you may have heard, during his recent Asian tour, Obama dined with Japan’s Prime Minister at a restaurant called the Sukiyabashi Jiro, where meals start at $300, and where one of the chef’s recommended courses involves an endangered species of blue fin tuna. So, although the Japanese are notorious for turning a blind eye, as well as a profit, on the slaughter of whales and rhinos, Obama is constantly trying to convince well-heeled pinheads like Tom Steyer that he can barely get to sleep at night from worrying about the plight of spotted owls and three-inch long delta smelts.

I can only imagine that when, upon his return, he’s confronted by the loons from the Sierra Club bearing hot tar and feathers at one of his endless fund-raisers, he’ll have no recourse but to insist that diplomacy required that he chew, but he certainly never swallowed.