I'm reminded of a story recorded by Vance Randolph, the Arkansas folklorist. It seems that an old Ozark mountaineer went to the doctor with an embarrassing complaint.:
"Doc, ever time I poot it stinks so bad I jus bout cain't stand it.'
"Well, let one rip an we'll see."
"Gag! Barf! Bwaap ! Hoo-eee!"
"Kin yeh do anythang fer me Doc?"
"Well, I'll give you a diet. Twice a day take a pound of limburger cheese, a can of sauerkraut, a half a dozen hard-boiled eggs, two cans of sardines, four cloves of garlic, and a quart of beer."
"That might cure me?"
"Naw. It ain't a gonna cure you---but it shore might help some !"
The sequester might not cure overspending, or the flatulent odor thereof.