George I, William I, George II, Hillary I?*

Michael Barone's take on the burgeoning dynasticism of our politics offers an interesting explanation: that the politicizing of First Ladies leads increasingly to the politicizing of families, and thus, the current War of the Roses.

Not that this is the first time Powerful Families have taken the top job: Before the Bushes and the Clintons were the Adamses, the Harrisons, and the Kennedys. But both Adamses were one-term presidents (and from different parties, at that), as were both Harrisons, and the Kennedy dynasty is at best still-born. The fact that George W. became president but eight years after his father left the post, that another brother waits in the wings for his chance, that Hilary may be poised to repeat W's feat, that is a horse of rather a different color.

All of which is depended on Hillary actually winning. If she doesn't, then the spell of dynastic power will be broken. I think the revulsion to Royal Presidencies may rear its head even if Hillary should win; monarchs are something Americans enjoy other countries to have.


*I am fully aware that George I should really be George II, and George II, George III, because of George Washington. Also, Bill Clinton would really be William IV (after William Henry Harrison, William McKinley, and William Howard Taft. For that matter, we've had four Johns, six Jameses, two Andrews, and two Franklins. I am a geek.

The Essayist's Useless '08 Presidential Predictions.

Following another Instapundit link like the truffle-drunk pig I am, I happen upon this holding-of-breath over the Romney bid, which typically devolves into a WTF over the Obamalamadingdong bid. For the latter, I write this in the comments section:

Obama is running on his SuperStar! power, nothing more. As soon as he's asked a question of any weight, he'll reveal himself for the mountain of inexperience he is, and sad-eyed true believers will cherish the Lost Hope like Bobby '68ers, for decades.

For the former, I'll say that I've thought him the man to beat for at least a year, ever since I saw him on C-Span2 Late one night, talking to a Republican gathering in Iowa. In 2006. And what's more, he was an interesting and intelligent speaker. I said then, "He's way ahead of everybody in the field."

The New Tipping Point

Let's say that this article in the New York Sun is overstating it's case. We've been promised "turnaround" in Iraq a couple of times before, only to see more bombings. But note the criteria of promised victory: enemy demoralization. We have been told it is impossible to demoralize our enemy, that they are driven by an inscrutable fury. Is such an assumption truly supportable? If not, how may we convince our political class of it?

Thanks for the Day Off, Martin...

Martin Luther King Day sucks.

When I was in elementary school, every year we watched the same video about him. How he couldn't play with a white friend when he was little. About how he became a preacher. About how he stood up to the man non-violently, got arrested time and time again, and won a victory paramount to Ghandi's. And about how he was killed by a stupid little three-named cracker just because. By the time I was in fifth grade, I had it memorized.

I found out when I was in college was a player he was, and was actively nauseated. But if we can forgive Jefferson, we can forgive King and arguaby lesser offense. Nevertheless, I am weary of the noise about him, and especially about his "day".

The Examiner yesterday had an editorial about how MLK day should be a "day on," instead of a "day off." I didn't read it. I've heard that tune as many times as I heard "killing the man who said 'Love your enemies'" in elementary school. It's the same old routine every year: We mention the guy in passing and proceed to talk about his "legacy" and whether there's been "enough" "progress" since he died, and what "he would have done" had he not. I've yet to hear anything truly meaningful arouse from these. They've become ritual, an act of contrition: Bless us Martin, for we have thought insufficiently about what it means to be Black in America.

Jeff Goldstein tries to dismiss race, and raises a hydra of nonsense. What it "means" is whatever we decide it means, except we haven't decided. Unless we have.

I'm a pasty white honky with a nasal tinge to my voice. I haven't the foggiest notion of what it means to be Black in America, and I don't care either. As long as it means that you can vote and own property and sue and raise your voice like everybody else, I'm uninterested. I don't feel and particular obligation to help them, any more than I would help any other person. Whatever's "wrong" with the "black community" (euphemisms are fun!), I'm going to leave for that community to sort out for itself.

To my mind, Black Americans are in a position roughly analogous to Irish Americans, who were the original unwanted immigrant group, who also grabbed for political power as a way out of their troubles, and who also grew economically more slowly than did other groups that "came up" around their time. That's sad, but it also means that they too will have their day in the sun, to the extent that they haven't already. And it will happen from their own labor and their own freedoms, regardless of what MLK would have said or done, and regardless of what the Man thinks about it.

And if such be true, then I thank the man for his labors, and the day off.

Hip Pappy Nuh Yr

2007. This bizarre, un-nicknamed ("aughts"? Please.), decade of interesting times is running to a close. It will be 2010 before we know it.

I'm celebrating the new year by hooking up my computer at my new house to my new DSL via wireless and waving bye-bye to dial-up, hopefully forever. I plan on cleaning up this site a little, re-focusing, re-commenting, etc. but I'm still working to jobs and won't have a lot of time to post. With a bit of luck, elbow grease, and good old-fashioned frenzy, by the mid-point of the year all this will have settled down some.




Saddam strung up like a horse-thief. Huzzah. No need for the blog devoted to his trial then. Snipped lively. On we go.