p m carpenter's commentary

The McCain-Romney Slugfest and Other Irrelevancies

I can make one general and, I think, indisputable observation about last night's Republican debate: The printed word is much kinder than the camera.

To read this morning's straight press coverage of this latest of Tweedle-Dee road shows -- now whittled to a foursome and staged at the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library -- one would think John McCain was the very picture of consistency, forthrightness and self-confidence. Now there's a man who knows his own mind. That's the way his quotable quotes come across when clinically excised in print.

But you had to be there -- that is, you had to be watching -- to savor the real flavor of his performance. It bordered on the depraved, revealing a stagnant mind packed only with squalid, mimeographed attack lines. McCain was frequently hesitant, often robotic, seemingly suffering from a surgically affixed and insipid grin, and on occasion looking and sounding like a man well on his way to the disease that ultimately afflicted his deceased host.

His modus operandi was to assault and dissemble. These are, of course, the customary pillars of professional politics, but McCain swiftly razed them to the level of bungling amateurism. However it wasn't as though he seemed uncomfortable in the role of an evasive and snarling dog; it was more a case of someone who had been told that whatever he did just before Florida, do it again. But he couldn't quite remember, it seemed, just what that was, so he struggled to piece it all together again, right there, live, on camera.

This isn't to suggest his performance was suicidal. No, that would require assistance -- a base, that is, with the sufficient objectivity to deduce from McCain's farrago of incompetence that there was something seriously troubling about the man. But hell, we've seen this road show before, most notably in 2000 and 2004, and it went over like gangbusters.

And poor Mitt, the sole target of McCain's raging dementia. Still reeling from his unpredicted crucifixion in Florida, he was reduced to a drooling, defensive display of indignation. McCain had slammed him with "the Washington-style old politics," he bellowed, "which is lay a charge out there, regardless of whether it’s true or not, don’t check it, don’t talk to the other candidate, just throw it out there, get it in the media, in the stream."

Welcome to Obamaland, Mitt. And in response to your rather pitiable protestations McCain merely sat, with that aforementioned insipid grin, occasionally muttering "of course" Mitt was guilty. Simple as that, case closed. I'm investigating the possibility that John is being schooled in debate tactics by my two ex-wives. (OK, I was a little guilty of unbearability. Well, more than a little, actually.)

McCain did once again have the opportunity to say something of an honorable tint, but naturally he's barred from that, given his targeted audience. It has to do with the 2001 tax cuts, which he now says he voted against only because of their lack of concomitant spending reductions. Yet on the Senate floor way back then his principal and stated reason for opposition was that "so many of the benefits go to the most fortunate among us, at the expense of middle class Americans who most need tax relief." My, my, what Republican primaries can do to reason -- and honor.

At any rate, Mike Huckabee (however limited his appearance) again won the Honest Humor award, mostly for noting that sure he supported massive highway construction projects in Florida last week, but this week he's inclined to favor California-bound ones. If wit held voter appeal, Mike might have had a chance. But it doesn't, so he doesn't.

And then there was Ron Paul, who, frankly, should have walked out. Whatever you think about his positions -- and he was the only one to encapsulate the brutal reality that our foreign policy is "bankrupting this country," though he dilutes his effectiveness with mysterious demonologies about "the monetary system" -- you also have to think that if CNN didn't want his participation, which it clearly didn't, then it should not have invited him. Had I been Paul, I would have returned the insult by gently removing my lavaliere mic and going home.

The McCain-Romney slugfest was worth it for us, the others, though. The latter was wounded from the get-go and it showed. The former, however, exhibited some kind of bizarre, self-confident incompetence, and proved that no matter how old the bull, his bullshit can still sell. Just watch it fly off the shelves next week.

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to P.M. Carpenter's Commentary -- because, to be blunt about it, things are rather desperate here. I am not, as some readers have assumed, of the professorial class who lives off the fat of the ivory tower, though I do hold a doctorate in American political history. Rather, I am but a typically impoverished public scribe who relies on a substitute-teaching income as a too-meager base for this daily column. I therefore must also rely on you, the regular reader, to supplement the production of what you regularly enjoy, or, on occasion, become enraged at. The purpose is merely to stimulate thought and challenge the conventional. So, if at all possible, please click the button above and make a contribution of $10, $25, $50 or $100. And then enjoy. Thank you -- P.M.

Florida -- The Sunny Snafu State, Once Again Dictating the Future

It would seem that Republican angst is effectively over. By next week they will have virtually crowned John McCain as America's Great Hope. They'll then have nine full months to frame the contest, versus the shorter general-election schedule of the Democrats, who will carry their internal bickering into March, or perhaps even April.

For the latter, this is not looking good.

It may be the hand-holding Dems whose catechism is "Solidarity," but it's the Republicans who know how to unify after the going gets bloody. That fundamental emotional difference between the parties' bases will become elegantly clear by Tuesday, as, it is my educated guess, increasing numbers of self-identified conservative Republicans begin to flock to their new standardbearer, whatever his faults and past sins.

That attitudinal-adjustment process already seems well underway. Romney may have licked McCain by a 2-to-1 ratio yesterday among the hardcore-conservative crowd, but Florida was rightly perceived by them as their last chance to dominate. It was almost do or die for Romney conservatives. And they shot craps, because "among moderates," reports the Washington Post, "McCain beat Romney by the same ratio" and "among those who said they are 'somewhat conservative,' the two ran roughly even."

Little by little McCain has eaten into Romney's core, whose fling with the governor now finally appears more dangerous than satisfying. McCain started at the edges and has been boring in since. By Tuesday we'll witness wholesale unrequited love betwixt the gov and his base. It's time to go home, for the family's sake.

As an early indicator of just how ideologically nimble Republicans can be in a pinch, there was this intriguing finding from the exit polls yesterday: "McCain not only did significantly better than Mr. Romney among voters who listed the war as their top concern, but also did better than him with voters who said they were most concerned about the economy."

Breaking that down a bit further: "More than 4 in 10 Florida Republicans said the economy is the most important problem facing the country, and McCain carried their votes. Romney won among Republicans with the most positive impression of the economy" -- that would be all three of them -- while "McCain dominated among those who see an economy in trouble."

That was all the evidence needed to conclude a seismic, Olympic-class shift in, shall we say, Republicans' flexible thinking. On the precipice of the 21st-century's first Great Depression, they opted for a man who has confessed he wouldn't know fiscal from monetary. They know, however, he can win, and that's all the game is about. They'll put McCain on the rack and extort pledges of tax rebates to plutocrats and new marginal rates on busboys, and all will be forgiven.

Add to next week's mix Giuliani's supporters moving to McCain, plus Huckabee's time-extended drain on Romney's conservatives, and we're looking at a potential blowout. Then take all that in the general and further add millions of swooning independents, and the broader electoral map starts looking even better for McCain.

His warhawkishness could hurt him somewhat among independents, but on the other hand, let the Dems nominate Hillary and then watch those indies flock to McCain. The latter's camp will sell him in the general like they'll sell him in next week's primaries. Said a McCain strategist on the upcoming battles: "McCain will have to pivot to talk about authenticity.... We'll say McCain is ready to be commander in chief and Romney is a guy who is a slick salesman."

By March or April, just replay the talking-points tape. If you think the GOP painted John Kerry as an opportunistic flip-flopper, just wait till it takes its meat cleaver to Hillary. She was for the war before she was against it, the party machinery will sputter, not to mention being for healthcare reform and then against it and now for it again -- and this time, there will be searing truth to the charge.

The GOP party line in the making is that the only candidate offering "change" will be the candidate offering "authenticity," as already previewed. Bill Clinton's slam of Obama as a "roll of the dice" will boomerang, as McCain and his troops argue that you never know what may come with a flipper and flopper, especially one who flips and flops on issues as critical as war.

None of this takes tea leaves.

Hence from a purely strategic, non-ideological point of view, the transcending and independent-laden Obama is the Dems' logical choice. That in itself almost guarantees that they'll pass.

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to P.M. Carpenter's Commentary -- because your support is needed. I am not, as some readers have assumed, of the professorial class who lives off the fat of the ivory tower, though I do hold a doctorate in American political history. Rather, I am but a typically impoverished public scribe who relies on a substitute-teaching income as a too-meager base for this daily column. I therefore must also rely on you, the regular reader, to supplement the production of what you regularly enjoy -- or become enraged at. The purpose is merely to stimulate thought. So, if at all possible, please click above today. And enjoy. Thank you -- P.M.

"Many Are the Crimes," Then and Now

Like horses, lame ducks are also dead ones, so I really should dispense with comment on the two-hour show of obsolete vapidity last night. But the useless little runt is like a sore neck. I simply couldn't resist testing it.

My attention, however, was sparse. When pointlessness is interrupted almost 70 times by even more pointless and raucous applause, I find myself cursing the Founders for constitutionally requiring the silly thing. If only all presidents since Tom Jefferson had followed his lead and simply submitted the vomiting pabulum in writing, we'd be a better Republic for it. But we have Woodrow to thank for reversing that intelligent trend, the show-off.

Given my less than rapt attention, I'm always forced to rely on press reports the next morning to gauge what I happily, mostly missed. And on this particular morning, I'm even happier than usual. I missed nothing, according to the paper of record.

A subheadline on its front page tipped off -- or, rather, screamed -- the dreadful nothingness within. "The question of President Bush’s relevance coursed through an address that avoided reflection on his legacy," it said. Implicit in that line was that Bush somehow broke with his tradition of public reflection, which of course never was. For seven excruciating years we've suffered a one-way lecture, never a dialogue.

"The King Doesn't Carry Money" is how New Yorker cartoonist Charles Barsotti titled one of his works; neither does he consort with the little people. He simply issues edicts from on high. And last night in response to two terms of this undemocratic falderal, the people's representatives cheered.

Best I can tell, Bush's latest monologue was at least filled with juicy double entendres, especially when he opened by noting that "our country has been tested in ways none of us could imagine" since the malignant little authoritarian stole office. Finally, on that we're with him 100 percent, and we have yet another year of testing to go. It'll be like the neck thing: Is he still there?

Other portions were so disconnected from any recognizable reality, they nearly defy rational comment -- as when he declared "We have faced hard decisions about peace and war, rising competition in the world economy, and the health and welfare of our citizens." Then came the real insult: "These issues call for vigorous debate, and I think it’s fair to say we’ve answered that call. Yet history will record that amid our differences, we acted with purpose."

One strains to recall any checked-and-balanced decision-making committed by any outside the Oval Office. For two terms the national "debate" has been a one-way street and more than a trifle one-sided. That, gentle reader, is what history will record.

As for any "purpose" other than the unconstitutional concentration of executive power, have we as a nation seriously addressed fundamental questions of war or peace? (roughly half the citizenry was eager to assault yet another unprovoking nation just a few months ago) or risen to meet the challenges of "rising competition in the world economy"? or in any way advanced the cause of our citizens' health and welfare?

Nope, not at all. We've remained deadheaded in the water and mostly locked in an orgy of fear, at you-know-who's beckoning. Other than drowning ourselves in more inescapable debt to serve a dying global empire, there's been no movement whatsoever on real matters of real concern to real people. Oh, and the world hates our guts.

Bush's reign puts me in mind of historian Ellen Schrecker's postscriptual assessment of the McCarthy Era (in Many are the Crimes). After detailing all its disgraceful misdeeds and malefactions -- how we got sucked into them, how we suffered through them, and how we slowly crawled out of them -- her final and most incisive judgment is that, simply, the era was a tragic and irretrievable waste of national emotions and political resources.

We could have used our energies in devotion, say, to folks' health care, or children's hunger, or people's ignorance. But we shoved that all aside, allowing ourselves instead to fritter away years in mindless, pointless hysteria and follow the inanities of dangerous demagogues and power-hungry dunces.

Such was, and possibly remains, the state of our union.

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to P.M. Carpenter's Commentary -- because your support is needed. I am not, as some readers have assumed, of the professorial class who lives off the fat of the ivory tower, though I do hold a doctorate in American political history. Rather, I am but a typically impoverished public scribe who relies on a substitute-teaching income as a too-meager base for this daily column. I therefore must also rely on you, the regular reader, to supplement the production of what you regularly enjoy -- or become enraged at. The purpose is merely to stimulate thought. So, if at all possible, please click above today. And enjoy. Thank you -- P.M.

McCain as Military Imbecile (Or At Least That's How the True Military Giants Would Have Seen It)

Bipartisanship in these contentious primary days has come to mean only that Republicans can indeed cut each other up as expertly as Democrats. It's a fascinating spectacle of political sociology: the once-orderly party of heirs apparent devolving -- or evolving, depending on one's view -- into a kind of bloody, Klingon-style right of ascension.

The intraparty knifings took on a special appeal late last week as John McCain, self-admitted economus ignoramus, realized that the perfectly grisly domestic situation is now grossly overshadowing his pet project of Iraq, and therefore harming his future prospects as commander in chief. John simply had to find a way to redirect the spotlight on all things martial, so he plucked a dated, obscure Mitt Romney quote from the archives and reentered the primary jungle with "gotcha"-machete firmly in hand.

It was nearly a year ago when Mitt muttered something about the possible advisability of devising a "private" -- meaning secret -- timetable for withdrawal from Iraq. Pretty much everyone wanted out then, hence so did Mitt. That much was a given. When things in Iraq seemed to improve, many who had wanted out then wanted to stay, hence so did Mitt. His only consistency is extreme flexibility. But damn, he's good at it.

Anyway, John's crack oppo-research team finally discovered that little gem of militaristic apostasy, and John unleashed his consequent horror as a stunning flanking maneuver. "If we surrender and wave a white flag, like Senator Clinton wants to do, and withdraw, as Governor Romney wanted to do," charged John, "then there will be chaos, genocide, and the cost of American blood and treasure would be dramatically higher."

Mitt was incensed, or at least he dutifully played the role of a politician incensed: "That's dishonest, to say that I have a specific date. That's simply wrong.... I know he's trying desperately to change the topic from the economy and trying to get back to Iraq, but to say something that's not accurate is simply wrong, and he knows better."

Then the gauntlets of demanded apologies started flying. Mitt was the first to go, saying John's allegation was "simply wrong and ... dishonest, and he should apologize."

In response John was cool, serene and loaded for bear with manly fortitude, as of course a manly commander in chief should be. But in slapping back at Mitt he added something that raised my ire as much as it surely did Mitt's, only for far different reasons.

What John said was this: "[Romney's] apology is owed to the young men and women serving this nation in uniform, that we will not let them down in hard times or good. That is who the apology is owed to."

It so happened that when I read that I had just put down a marvelous new work on military history: Mark Perry's Partners in Command, an investigation into the working relationship between Generals George C. Marshall and Dwight D. Eisenhower. And the meticulously driven subtext of Perry's work is that both of these incisive military minds and, later, shapers of America's foreign policy, would have been appalled -- absolutely aghast -- at the United States' entry into Iraq.

Both would have left aside the question of apologies, because both, quite simply, would have found the intervention utterly inexcusable -- a betrayal of America's political culture, societal way of thinking, and even common sense.

Marshall and Eisenhower thought alike because in the 1920s they had both studied at the feet of a certain General Fox Conner, a military genius of unusual sociopolitical insight as well. And what Conner taught them -- what he hammered away at with singular emphasis -- was that, as Perry succinctly worded it, we were "Never [to] fight unless you have to, never fight alone, and never fight for long." (It was these lessons that Eisenhower had in mind, as president, when he pulled our sorry butts out of Korea's human meat-grinder.)

And Perry himself hammered the point, clearly with a certain contemporaneity in mind: "Conner's simple axioms were based on what he knew about the American people and what he believed about democracies. He knew that Americans didn't like war and that, in truth, they weren't very good at it. The solution for this was for America never to agree to fight unless there was no other choice ... and then to do so quickly, before people got tired of spilling their children's blood."

John McCain -- as that rare political creature, a Republican pol who actually served -- now presents himself as a thoughtful student of military history as well, and therefore as exceptionally qualified to be commander in chief. But Mr. McCain, in rooting for this idiotic war at the start and now advocating an interminable presence, understands nothing of what the true giants of yesteryear understood.

It is John McCain who owes an apology to "the young men and women serving this nation in uniform," for having helped, that is, to spearhead their voiceless entanglement in a lonely and endless war of choice -- one that would have appalled those far deeper thinkers of how and when military means should be used, and how they should not.

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to P.M. Carpenter's Commentary -- because your support is needed. I am not, as some readers have assumed, of the professorial class who lives off the fat of the ivory tower, though I do hold a doctorate in American political history. Rather, I am but a typically impoverished public scribe who relies on a substitute-teaching income as a too-meager base for this daily column. I therefore must also rely on you, the regular reader, to supplement the production of what you regularly enjoy -- or become enraged at. The purpose is merely to stimulate thought. So, if at all possible, please click above today. And enjoy. Thank you -- P.M.

Grotesquely Underhanded, But Oh So Familiar

If only John Edwards, a year ago, had thought to pound on that one, simple little word: change. He could have been its agent, and would likely be leading the pack now. Sure, it's void of real meaning and almost laughably clichéd, but on the other hand it embodies -- bumper-sticker-style -- what voters seek most, and any candidate who can first link that one winning word to his or her name is light years ahead of the game.

And it now appears voters want change in their politics as well as policies. There's a palpable and even provable sense of yearning in the air -- a profound yearning for a cleaner style of politics, a rejection of old-school skulduggery, and even some demonstrated connection between the electorate's concerns and the candidate's strategy.

Put those two together -- the desired and the delivered -- and Barack Obama's crushing victory over Hillary Clinton yesterday comes into easy focus. Two sentences from this morning's New York Times coverage summarizes in large part the senator's Waterloo:

"South Carolina voters showed little taste for the Clintons’ political approach. They said in exit polls that their main concern was the economy; during an all-out campaign blitz on behalf of his wife here, Mr. Clinton spent the last week highlighting Mr. Obama’s record on Iraq and his recent statements about the transformational nature of Ronald Reagan's presidency."

Yet those old-school distortions were but the half of it. The other half, of course, was Bill Clinton's slithering undercurrent of racial politics, endorsed if not researched and scripted by the Clinton campaign itself. Yesterday's Bill-ism was perhaps the topper, the granddaddy snake of them all: When asked a question that had nothing to do with race, Bill responded by casually noting that Jesse Jackson had won South Carolina's primaries (caucuses, actually, at the time) in 1984 and '88. Yes, Bill, we get it. We noticed. Obama is black.

How did that play with S.C.'s white voters? Obama obliterated his eight-percent ranking reported only a few days ago, scoring "about as many South Carolina white men" as voted for Clinton, and outscoring her by about 10 points among youthful white voters of both sexes.

Ron Fournier of the Associated Press had some excellent advice for the former president just four days ago: "Bill Clinton says race shouldn't be an issue in the Democratic presidential campaign. Well, then perhaps he should stop talking about it." Bill should have listened, or at the very least, Hillary should have muzzled him.

But the Clinton campaign's old-school skulduggery didn't stop at Obama's door. Last night in interviews with the three candidates' top strategists, Edwards' Joe Trippi was on the verge of ripping any Clintonite's heart out. His on-camera blow-up was over the Clinton's use of "robocalling" on the primary's eve in a vulgar attempt to cut into Edwards' primarily white vote. The robo-wording was sickening:

Hello. This is the Hillary Clinton for President Campaign. Before you vote on Saturday, you should know that John Edwards voted for permanent trade relations with China ... [a] bill that cost thousands of jobs. Like the ones in the textile mills he talks about so much down here. You should also know that John Edwards made nearly a half a million dollars working for a Wall Street investment fund, a fund that’s been profiting on foreclosing on the homes of families; including 100 homes right here in South Carolina.... Edwards says he’s one of us, but up on Wall Street he was just another one of them. Can you trust John Edwards?

Grotesquely underhanded, but in a pinch, it's what they do, and what they do best.

Many voters no doubt recalled that any candidate who campaigns that way will also govern that way. Does any other South Carolina primary victor ... oh, say, circa 2000 ... who went on to the White House come to mind?

This morning the Clinton campaign is licking its wounds, wondering why the old venom failed to kill. The network commentariat's consensus last night seemed to be that it would now pull back from its attack-dog strategy, having suffered a momentous backlash.

But I have my doubts. Like a cornered wolverine, the Clintons are far more inclined, it seems to me, to strike again from the same old strategic foundation, though in new and wondrous tactical ways. I'd put my money on a desperate bloodbath of inventive skulduggery. It's what they do -- because they learned from Republicans all too well.

"Change" be damned.

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to P.M. Carpenter's Commentary -- because your support is needed. I am not, as some readers have assumed, of the professorial class who lives off the fat of the ivory tower, though I do hold a doctorate in American political history. Rather, I am but a typically impoverished public scribe who relies on a substitute-teaching income as a too-meager base for this daily column. I therefore must also rely on you, the regular reader, to supplement the production of what you regularly enjoy -- or become enraged at. The purpose is merely to stimulate thought. So, if at all possible, please click above today. And enjoy. Thank you -- P.M.

Theodore McCain and the Butchering of History

John McCain's chief selling point is that he's a straight-talkin' kinda guy. That in itself should tell you how even democrats disbelieve in the fundamental authenticity of democracy: It's just assumed they -- the pols -- are all liars, an assumption buttressed by 2000 years of tortured experience.

But it also says something about optimism being at the core of democracy. There's one of them in every campaign -- the one guy who swears he's not lying like the rest of them; he sells simple honesty as novelty. And on occasion, mass eternal faith hooks up with this singular vending of integrity, and we're off to the races again. All it took was a pol saying he's not the corrupt, prevaricating poltroon that democrats have come to expect.

Do Charlie Brown, Lucy and a football come to mind?

Nevertheless what concerns me about John McCain isn't his honesty shtick. A pol should go with whatever sells, with whatever niche in the market he has successfully carved out for himself. If consumers are in the mood, they'll buy it. The pol's market-positioning may be a trifle laughable, but it's legal.

No, it's not the straight-talkin' gig that worries. What worries is McCain's seeming lack of straight thinking. At least, that is, his historical thinking, which he sells as often and passionately as straightforwardness.

For it may be that McCain is less dishonest than he is simply confused. And that leaves us a frightening choice: Which do we prefer, a Dick Nixon or a Franklin Pierce?

To be more illuminating, what concerns is that McCain is forever hailing two other presidents as ideological role models: Ronald Reagan and Theodore Roosevelt. To be sure, his first loyalty oath -- to Reagan -- has been an excavation of necessity; he's had to dig himself out of a lot of deep trouble with the base for having ever voted against those Bushian, supply-siding tax cuts.

In short, he's had to beg forgiveness for having voted against fiscal legislation that has done real, lasting and devastating harm to the nation. Go figure. (But hey, we're talking Republican base here.)

Hence in the present campaign he is reminding voters ad nauseam that he was an interservice "foot soldier in the Reagan revolution," whacking away at government's revenue base while his congressional brethren spent like drunken sailors. The latter development seems to have come as a surprise to McCain, for reasons unexplained by McCain.

At any rate, Ronald's thinking was king, John assures the base: his was unsurpassed in governing wisdom.

Coincidentally, however, McCain extols the virtuous wisdom of Theodore Roosevelt -- which is like a pol saying he most admires both Benito Mussolini and Abraham Lincoln.

For T.R. absolutely despised the plutocrats and "malefactors of great wealth" whom Ronald Reagan so adored and assisted in every way.

McCain hails T.R. as a "free-enterprise, capitalist, full-bore guy" who -- McCain then nearly mumbles -- nonetheless believed in some government regulation. But what T.R. believed virtually cancelled out the "full-bore" stuff and ultimately alienated him from his own party, but good.

He swore, and often acted out, that he would never "submit to the domination in the Republican Party of those selfish interests which have long felt that the government was simply an instrument to further their ends." And in his famous Osawatomie speech he declared that "labor is prior to, and independent of, capital," that "Labor is supreme," that politicians "must be generally progressive," and that he was devoted to the "destruction of special privilege" -- the very kind of special privilege, that is, that Ronald Reagan re-guaranteed 70 years later.

McCain has been quoted as saying "The issue of economics is not something I’ve understood as well as I should." He should add American history to his list, because he seems more than a bit confused about the core values of his role models. And if he fails to comprehend their conflicting values, how can he comprehend his own?

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to P.M. Carpenter's Commentary -- because your support is needed. I am not, as some readers have assumed, of the professorial class who lives off the fat of the ivory tower, though I do hold a doctorate in American political history. Rather, I am but a typically impoverished public scribe who relies on a substitute-teaching income as a too-meager base for this daily column. I therefore must also rely on you, the regular reader, to supplement the production of what you regularly enjoy -- or become enraged at. The purpose is merely to stimulate thought. So, if at all possible, please click above today. And enjoy. Thank you -- P.M.

Ron Paul Can At Least Say He Gave Them a Way Out

One would think that after two terms of the indisputably worst presidency in our history -- the inexorable outcome of the 1970s' New Right, the Conservative "Movement," supply-side ideology and militaristic neoconservatism -- Republican voters would reject the plodding continuation of Tweedle-Deeism, back an insurgency such as Ron Paul's, and thereby begin the arduous process of redefining what organized conservatism means.

Last night's debate in Florida, however, demonstrated with painful clarity that the only real conservatism remaining in the Republican Party is the hidebound urge to stick with the same old, same old, and that the Old Guard believes that that is precisely what the shrinking base demands.

As an outsider looking in -- as a nonpartisan, that is, indifferent to the internal workings of the GOP but nevertheless intrigued by the history of political suicides -- that seems a shame. The party is missing a historic opportunity to, in effect, start from scratch; to start with something truly revolutionary, much as the Democratic Party attempted half-heartedly in 1968 and continued in 1972.

Then, just as for Republicans today, the Dems knew they had balled things up but good, and since they would almost certainly go down in electoral flames anyway, they might as well rethink a few things and see where they came out.

Paul offered Republicans that choice, as he still does, and as he did last night.

He was the only candidate to stand on the stage and express not only what vast swaths of the general electorate now realize, but what vast swaths of even hardcore conservatives know full well but stubbornly refuse to concede merely out of blind and raging partisanship: that the Iraq war was "a very bad idea and it wasn't worth it" -- with emphasis on the modifiers.

Nothing has been clearer in the history of U.S. adventurism -- and that history has seen some spectacular clusterfucks indeed -- yet there the other candidates stood, mumbling about the intervention's congenital goodness that was merely mismanaged.

Mike Huckabee, doppelgänger demagogue that he is, even went so far as to rewrite its thoroughly discredited history: "Now, everybody can look back and say, 'Oh, well, we didn’t find the weapons.' It doesn’t mean they weren’t there. Just because you didn’t find every Easter egg didn’t mean that it wasn’t planted." None of the others condemned the revisionism, thus allowing a profound state of denial to stand like accepted wisdom.

Had he the time, Paul surely would have pointed out that even had the weapons existed, without provocation one doesn't go to war. That's not merely a bedrock principle of smart foreign policy. It was, once, a bedrock principle of conservatism.

But let's be clear. The Iraq war has come to define far more than what a foolish war looks like.

For it now defines conservatism itself -- literally the neo-conservatism that Chalmers Johnson has posited (if I may take some liberty with his words) as a "military Keynesianism," by which he "mean[s] the mistaken belief that public policies focused on frequent wars, huge expenditures on weapons and munitions, and large standing armies can indefinitely sustain a wealthy capitalist economy." Says Johnson with devastating historical evidence at hand, "The opposite is actually true."

Paul would disagree with Johnson on the government's redirection of those "huge expenditures" on our "social infrastructure," advocating a radical libertarian approach instead. But whatever one thinks of that philosophical tack, at least Paul's would provide the second leg of a desperately needed and genuine brand of conservatism that could stand with some ideological freshness and face "ready-for-change" voters at large, up or down.

Instead, the Republican base is opting for the same old, same old. That was unmistakably expressed in last night's ideological lovefest, minus one. And it is indeed a shame. The Grand Old Party is just pooped; it hasn't the balls to rethink anything.

The real irony, however, is that it's the opposition party that's even better suited to emphatically advocate a frantic reversal of this nation's doomed course of "military Keynesianism." Yet it's coming up nearly as short as the Republicans. Which means both parties, someday, will go down together, even though the writing was writ large on the wall.

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Moe, Larry and Curly and the Corporate Cure

Forget the Islamofascists. Within the span of only a few days, that greatest and even existential threat to this nation is now but a memory, and a distant one at that.

Such is the revised appraisal of the once-great jingoist party, which only yesterday had voters damn near apoplectic over the coming hordes of swarthy terrorists with daggers in their teeth and white women on their mind. But that danger, it would seem, has passed. Why, we know not. All we do know is that what now plagues America -- what is shaking her to her very foundations -- is ... an excessive corporate income tax.

That, anyway, seems to be the one and only consensus among the leading Republican presidential candidates as they scour the elimination state of Florida this week in search of panacea lovers.

Naturally the indistinguishable Moe, Larry and Curly also plead for the permanency of Bush's tax cuts, but that's a given and way down the road. No, what this nation now needs most, other than a good 5-cent cigar, is to reduce the burden on the corporate class. The poor dears have suffered too long, I guess, under the oppressive egalitarianism of George W. Bush.

The assorted campaigns' 180 away from the erstwhile greatest threat "is natural," said the American Enterprise Institute's Kevin Hassett, who sidelines as a McCain economic adviser. "When the economy is close to recession, if not in recession," said he to the St. Petersburg Times, "voters think long and hard about what the different candidates have to say."

In John's case, voters may want to think long and hard about what he said just a few weeks ago; that being that "the issue of economics is not something that I've understood as well as I should."

One suspects that is what led Mr. McCain to conclude this business about cutting the corporate tax rate from 35 to 25 percent as the essential cure for what ails us. Why it took Moe this long to locate his Republican cookie-cutter is beyond me, but hey, a belated epiphany is still an epiphany.

Mitt Romney's cure-all also includes slashing the corporate tax rate, of course, but in his model from 35 to 20 percent. Oh, that Mitt. He always has to do the other boys one better.

Mitt did say one thing, however, that surely ranks as the most enlightened comment yet made on the campaign trail by any GOP candidate: "People recognize now more than ever that it makes a difference having a president who has actually had a job in the private sector."

Yowza! -- what a difference indeed, especially if those jobs were with the oil industry and baseball clubs. Larry, this new-fangled enlightenment stuff behooves you not. You had best stick with your previous platitudes. Don't try getting creative.

And then there's Curly Giuliani, who's now auditioning for the lead role in yet another remake of "The Desperate Hours." His cries of "9/11" have been reduced to just "911." Won't the plucky Floridians please save this poor man?

We'll see, but it ain't lookin' good, even though he too has vacated the Islamofascist boat and plunged over the supply side.

Yes, you guessed it, we need to cut those corporate rates, says the mayor. We've been disincentivizing (if I were running, my sole platform would be to ban every English word ending in "ize") the corporately oppressed for too long. Oh, how they've struggled mightily against the wealth-devouring working classes lo these many years, with nary the motivation to earn even one more dollar.

Curly has also proposed "a simpler tax system with only three tax brackets: 10, 15 and 30 percent." The Times story failed to note whether he listed those brackets in ascending or descending-income order. Stay tuned.

How all this Republican rubbish could work on even conservative citizens of the elimination state is beyond me. But work it must; otherwise Moe, Larry and Curly wouldn't be selling it.

What "it" ignores, of course, is the one historical truism of our one, truly Great Depression: When the middling classes -- remember them, guys? -- fail to earn enough to buy all the junk they produce for their employers, the economy hits the skids. Aggressive downturns are, that is, fundamentally demand-sided.

The plutocracy has been milking this nation's workers for so long and so happily and comfortably, it thought the party would never end. But welcome, oh ye of supply-side inevitability, to the Great Re-Awakening.

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How Can Democrats Screw This Up? You're Witnessing It

This doesn't quite rise to the immediate level of Wall Street's activities looking like something straight out of "Independence Day," but a lot of very serious people are becoming very seriously worried, as you know, about Bill Clinton's role in the presidential campaign.

The reasons are varied, but taken on the whole, I think it's fair to say they largely represent the clash of long-term concerns and short-term interests; in the broadest terms, the personal versus the public good. There's also the internal matter of the party good -- which for most politicos reigns supreme -- but to date, the disgruntled have been mostly unwilling to fan the discordant flames out of fear they'll only blow things up.

What they have offered, so far, is what Richard Nixon would label as "candyass politics." They're pulling their punches, telegraphing rather than slamming.

Nevertheless the party's discord and disgruntlement have become a booming journalistic enterprise. In recent days, as just two examples, Dan Balz of the Washington Post and Jonathan Alter of Newsweek have funneled into the public arena the outlines of private worries.

"Sen. Edward Kennedy and Rep. Rahm Emanuel, both currently neutral in the Democratic contest," writes Alter, "have told their old friend heatedly on the phone that he needs to change his tone and stop attacking Sen. Barack Obama." Their official reasons: "There's concern that in hatcheting the Illinois senator and losing his temper with the news media ... Clinton is drawing down his political capital and harming his role as a global statesman."

Says Balz: "Bill Clinton's actions have caused consternation inside the party, even among those who are not publicly committed to either candidate. His 'fairy tale' remark about Obama's Iraq war position sparked a sharp reaction [from the African-American community] ... [and] his heated objections to a reporter's questions about the caucus rules in Las Vegas showed a petulant side of him that was highly unflattering."

A far more amusing characterization came from the Nation's Katrina vanden Heuvel last Sunday on "This Week," when she related that her friends are now saying that Bill is looking like an overheated Little League dad, always interfering in the game to protect his helpless charge. The often unstated resentment among feminists? Hillary doesn't need Bill's help. She's a big girl and can take care of herself -- yet she's allowing an altogether different picture to emerge.

Howard Wolfson, Mrs. Clinton's communications director, defends Bill's role matter-of-factly: "The Obama campaign has passionate supporters who make a strong case for his candidacy. We have passionate supporters, first and foremost [Bill Clinton], who makes a strong case for her candidacy," which is true. He then added, "Everything the president has said is factual," which is patently counterfactual.

But even that's as irrelevant as all the off-topic hand-wringing about Bill's increasingly "unflattering" image. I seriously doubt the previously quoted pols give a hoot about his legacy. Not right now, anyway. They just want to get through this presidential campaign victoriously, and that means with the party intact and unified. And so far Bill is doing his best to upset just that.

By inserting himself -- that is, by a former president and head of the party inserting himself -- in the nomination process, Bill Clinton is well on the road to accomplishing what many Democrats regarded as an impossible mission: a loss in 2008.

He has, of course, revved up "Clinton Fatigue" once again, but far more threatening is this: By converting his wife's candidacy into a protection of his legacy and ultimately what's referred to as the "Clinton Restoration Project," he is also converting what could have been an easily achievable, condemnatory referendum on George W. Bush's reign into a referendum on more distant, bygone days. That does not bode well in an election pumped for "change."

And that's precisely why former presidents have traditionally stayed the hell out of primaries. Their immensely influential interference stomps the evolutionary insurgencies that are vital to any party's vitality. Parties require fresh blood, fresh ideas and fresh leadership, otherwise they rot like compost.

In addition, party supporters resent 800-pound insider gorillas hand-picking their successors, which only perpetuates the stale and dynastic and leaves the primary-voting electorate feeling as though the game is rigged. As a former party head, a former president can disproportionately manipulate the party machine's power -- hence the contest is perceived by many among the assorted bases as The Machine vs. The People. And to these many, insurgencies such as Edwards and Obama's are then seen as having been doomed from the start. It turn, the many stay home.

In this week's debate Obama quipped, "I can't tell who I'm running against sometimes." See above, Mr. Obama. It ain't Hillary.

The machine is driving the wedge deeply. And its emotional effect could, in time, answer that quadrennial question so beloved by Democrats: How can we screw up this almost surefire victory?

But it would also seem that that answer is coming into focus for many of the non-aligned pols. Hence their "candyass politics" may soon come to an end. Then the real fireworks, as they say, shall ensue.

Earnestness, Innocence and Hardball: Last Night's Rumble in S.C.

Now that was a debate.

At least the first, brawling Q&A hour was; while the second, more freewheeling sit-down session, in which one would expect even more fireworks, calmed into tea-party politeness. But damn. That first part was riveting, and poor Wolf was right on the verge of calling, "Medic!"

For bloody it got, and with just about the right mixture of personality and substantive policy clashes, although inevitably the former tends to overwhelm the latter.

Edwards passionately struggled to remind voters this is a three-way race of real consequences; Obama -- displaying his rookie status -- allowed himself to be cornered into such things as explaining the byzantine workings of the Illinois state legislature; and Clinton, having reread the playbook, went for the soft underbelly. Earnestness, innocence and hardball on display.

There is so little ideological difference among the three that personality was bound to take center stage. On the one item of real substantive distinctions -- national healthcare and how to achieve it -- that did arise, however, Clinton and Edwards, I think, got the better of Obama. The social appeal of universality was reframed by Clinton, especially, as a political necessity as well. The next president shouldn't start the Congressional process of gutting a national healthcare plan without first demanding the gold-star model, because whittle it they will.

Obama's defensive fallback was, as he insisted, "reasonable," but that's less of a clean soundbite. And I imagine if Obama had the policymaking to do over, he'd opt for the cleaner version of universality from the get-go. As Karl Rove demonstrated more than once, "Explaining is losing."

Based on last night's debate alone, and representing its one sharp downside, one would have been hard pressed to recall that we happen to have a couple wars in progress. Furthermore, one would have been stumped as to who voted to get us into the bloodier and utterly needless one.

Which made one of Clinton's two more searing accusations of the evening (transcript) all that more laughable: "You know, Senator Obama, it is very difficult having a straight-up debate with you, because you never take responsibility for any vote, and that has been a pattern."

At this, the crowd understandably booed, and it was refreshing to hear that they did indeed recall -- you know, the war-vote thing that she's been running from ever since that "splendid little war" went sour. Her charge reflected less the Rovian style than that of Rush Limbaugh: locate your greatest weakness, then turn the tables and attack.

And, of course, there was the inevitable "Reagan" issue, a gross mischaracterization that the stuff of tawdry politics thrives on. I'll give Edwards credit for not repeating it this time around, but Clinton knows a good distortion when she formulates one and she sticks with it, even going so far as to add her own adjectives to Obama's words. What progressive wouldn't join in Clinton's condemnation if Obama had said what he didn't?

Nevertheless his actual words were immeasurably impolitic, but only in the sense that the sewer of political campaigning is no place to teach logic to voters. His words did, however, raise an interesting question that rarely, if ever, seems to be raised. To wit ...

While Obama was merely being historically and objectively analytical, his temperate comments were also designed to reach out to the broad center -- principally moderate independents, but disaffected Republicans as well. That was the subtle message -- too subtle -- that brought the wrath of ideological purists down on his head. It's their sandbox now, and no one but card-carrying liberal Democrats should be permitted to play in it. Screw outsiders, which is a rather bizarre coalition-building strategy of one.

Yet it is John Edwards who has consistently, openly and emphatically maintained that he's the only Democratic candidate who can appeal to red-state America. That would be the states vastly populated by -- yep -- independents and Republicans, precisely the same voters to whom Obama's clumsy appeal was made. The unfair logical extension, of course -- that is, the one applied to Obama -- is that red-states would fall into Edwards' column only because Edwards is campaigning through some sort of red-state ideological coloration.

Or at least that's the charge made against Obama. It has smacked him upside the head -- again, unfairly -- but it's never even hurled at Edwards.

Maybe Edwards should hold a press conference and make the charge against himself. He can then put on his own defense, which would but mirror Obama's. At least it would ensure him more media attention.