PMC Commentary

We Needed Kucinich in Nevada, and the Kos KO'd Itself in Michigan

It would seem the ... uh ... debate last night proved only one thing: the state judge was right and the Nevada Supreme Court was wrong. Maybe not on the law, but certainly on style and political substance.

Dennis Kucinich's presence was the only thing that could have salvaged that whiplash of strained civility, characterized by the New York Times' Jeff Zeleny and Patrick Healy -- who, better men than I, managed to stay awake for the duration -- as a "night of ... soft voices, easy jokes and belly laughs."

It further proved that a decisive election balanced by a three-way statistical tie can ensure little more than stifling banality. For two hours "the rivals praised one another with phrases like 'Hillary’s exactly right' and, 'What Barack said is what John and I also meant.'" The charade was akin to Al Gore's second debate with Mr. Bush -- Whoops, went a little overboard before; better correct course by a few degrees, perhaps by 180 of them.

The Barack-Hillary handholding was expected, of course -- the recent heat was searing them both -- but unexpected was the extent of Mr. Edwards' complicity. He ventured not to endanger his rather surprising numerical standing at this eleventh hour, which I should think disappointed some of his supporters and downright enraged others. He may well regret it. But in any case, if he isn't going to fight, what's the point of staying in?

Moving over to the more eventful Dark Side, last week I wrote that "desperate demagoguery sells -- especially to desperate people. How it sells to the desperate in Michigan, we'll soon see." The verdict? It sold like a hotcake special. McCain's simple truths to the good people of Michigan couldn't compete with Romney's soothing fantasies. The senator went down like "Smokin' Joe" Frazier, leaving the Mittster to fight another round.

I was perplexed by the Daily Kos' attempted tactical influence in this race, which, nevertheless, seems to have been remarkably non-influential. Michigan's crossover voters appear to have still favored McCain, despite external encouragement in other directions; it's just that they came out in far fewer numbers than they did in 2000.

What perplexed, however, was the reasoning behind Kos' attempt: that a Romney win would keep the Republican race in turmoil and perpetuate its wasteful consumption of resources. But it seems to me that all his win accomplished was to inch him that much closer to the nomination, while, much worse -- and this does represent something of a shift in my thinking -- promote a potentially stronger candidate than McCain.

First, if the general election comes down to a Rovian contest of base vs. base, then Romney, no doubt, is the more formidable choice. Yesterday, for example, he won with "a clear plurality of Republicans and conservatives, who turned out in greater numbers than they had in the 2000 primary." The hard feelings between McCain and that crowd persist, and it's unlikely he could regain their full confidence by November.

Second, Romney has no Senate record on issues of national concern to attack. McCain does, and the eventual Democratic candidate could have a jolly good time dismembering it for moderate voters, day by bloody day.

Third, the economy has taken stage front in this election and it could remain there, overshadowing the problematic variables that might re-erupt in Iraq. Like all good democrats we are a self-centered people -- others' deaths mean a bit less than our pocketbooks. But as a candidate McCain is weaker than Romney on economic issues, principally because he's unwilling to promise a return to prosperity through little more than the demagogic fantasies that the former governor offers.

Fourth, as a RoboMouth, Romney is less gaffe-prone. But McCain? He'd spend half his time on the stump uttering inanities and the other half issuing corrections and explanations. His campaign would be a study in wasteful distractions, while Mitt would stay on focused autopilot.

Finally -- and you may think of other reasons -- McCain, quite simply, isn't filthy rich. Nor would he have at his disposal the full extent of the financial resources available from the disaffected crowd mentioned in Point One. Romney, on the other hand, can always tap into his personal quarter-of-a-billion dollars in a pinch.

I continue to believe that McCain will thread the needle. Romney will have a far more difficult time of it in South Carolina, while the Arizona senator, according to polls, has now surpassed Mr. 9/11 in Florida and his expected good showing in preceding S.C. should boost him even more.

That, in my estimation, is good news for the opposition, whose tactical reasoning for a Romney win yesterday was questionable at best, and at worst, foolish.

Mitt "The Changeling" Romney: Veer Today, Con Tomorrow

Mitt Romney's role in the presidential campaign circus has always reminded me of one of Hunter S. Thompson's "Fear and Loathing '72" assessments: "There is no way to grasp what a shallow, contemptible and hopelessly dishonest old hack Hubert Humphrey really is until you've followed him around for a while on the Campaign Trial."

Thompson punctuated his disdain for Humphrey's pandering to each and every Democratic constituency by burlesquely captioning a photo of the senator saying, "I was a Jew once myself."

All I can say in Hubert's defense is that at least he limited his pandering to his party's base. His whorishness was but a function of the natural order of things. But Mitt? He recognizes no such tasteful boundaries. He panders to everyone. The man is a greased slab of elaborate demagoguery in motion -- and today will be either his finest or final hour.

He will meet it in Michigan, which holds his fate in one of those cliched do-or-die primaries. Forget all the statistical studies: that state will tell us in the next few hours whether there's any payoff from civics classes in the public education system. For today it will answer the quadrennial question: Is "democracy" spelled b-a-m-b-o-o-z-l-e-m-e-n-t?

Last Thursday, Mitt saw his darkening skies open when John McCain was foolish enough to let slip a nugget of truth: "Sometimes you have to tell people things they don’t want to hear along with things that they do want to hear." He then uttered one of the allergic unwanteds: "There are some jobs that aren’t coming back to Michigan," as well as other states, such as the locus of his tutorial, South Carolina.

Mitt pounced like a rabid ferret. His piety had paid off -- right then, he saw proof of an almighty god who looks out for rich demagogues. "I know," sputtered Mitt, "that there are some people who think, as Senator McCain did -- he said, you know, some jobs have left Michigan that are never coming back. I disagree. I’m going to fight for every single job."

And such has been Mitt's liturgical humbug ever since. He knows that an opportunistic swindle is a precious thing to waste.

By the weekend he was on CNN, blaming the auto industry's woes on -- yep, you guessed it -- Washington pols, rather than myopic auto-industry executives and, good or bad, the globalized free trade that he so adores.

"What have they done to help the domestic auto industry?" he asked, while decrying Washington's deplorable efforts at increasing fuel efficiency and perhaps even aiding the environment. "Look, you can't keep on throwing anvils at Michigan" -- you know, like cleaner air -- "and then say, how come [it's] not swimming well?"

So what is Romney's well-considered plan, other than smogging us up a little more?

Well, as he explained to the Detroit Economic Club yesterday, in "his fight for every single job" he intends to turn the whole mess over to a gaggle of auto executives, union leaders, state representatives and members of Congress, otherwise known as those dreaded Washington insiders. They can just by God work something out and, presumably, he'll sign it. Now there's leadership for you.

But I'll be fair. There was more, according to the New York Times. "He also said he would increase fivefold, to $20 billion, federal support for research and development in energy, materials science, fuel technology and automotive technology."

Now you may see that as a razzle-dazzle, laissez-faire flip-flop, but Mitt knows it takes a lot of hypocrisy to buy votes. And once in the White House, he can finally do it with your money instead of his. That, at least, is today's plan. Tomorrow's shall be vastly different, depending on the audience to be conned.

Whatever. Just keep in mind, gentle Michiganites, that it's said that Mitt's "campaign is built around his business prowess" -- which has largely entailed, of course, the shipping of American jobs overseas to minimize labor costs and maximize shareholders' profits.

So when Mitt says, "Don’t listen to anybody who says those jobs aren’t coming back -- I’m not willing to accept that," just remember his only real roots, and take not to heart the deeply piled, demagogic manure he's been spreading.

Hillary's Crocodile Angst

Yesterday morning on "This Week" with George Stephanopoulos there ran the names of 16 Americans -- some, mere boys -- killed in Iraq last week. Next week he'll run another list of Americans killed this week. So it has gone for nearly five years, with at least another year to go. Less quantifiable is the death of America's reputation and whatever honor she had regained after the needless obscenity of Vietnam.

Just prior to "This Week," in my viewing area, ran "Meet the Press" with Tim Russert. And there sat Hillary Clinton, raising questions about her chief primary opponent's judgment, voting record and "deliberate distorti[ons]." At one point, with respect to one of those distortions that recently led to an utterly inconsequential flap -- I agree with her there -- she said "It is such an unfair and unwarranted attempt to, you know, misinterpret and mischaracterize what I've said."

Hillary, you should be more careful in throwing around words like distortion, misinterpretation and mischaracterization. Because it's such an unfair and unwarranted attempt to, you know, mischaracterize what you've done, which helped lead to the profound consequences mentioned in the first paragraph of this piece.

For there you sat, again, spinning the real "fairy tale" of this campaign: that your vote for the "Authorization for Use of Military Force Against Iraq" was, despite the resolution's title, in actuality merely an authorization for the oxymoronic use of "diplomatic force."

Well, gosh, you continued, we know now that George W. Bush is a reckless, bloodthirsty, jingoistic imbecile, but whoever could have known that back in 2002? Who possibly could have foreseen that Bush's diplomatic danglings were fraudulent, and that his true intentions were to take the congressional resolution -- you know, the one with "military force" in the title -- and run with it militarily? Lordy, lord, the shock of it all, the betrayal, when he did just that a few months later. We were all hoodwinked.

Yes, you can say we were hoodwinked, as long as you discount the president's repeated and overt signals that war was imminent, no matter what; as long as you discount that numerous other and circumspect pols stood on the House and Senate floor and foretold of the ruse; as long as you discount that commentators and journalists and foreign policy experts far and wide were lamenting the insane road to war that Congress was foolishly opening.

Hoodwinked? A mischaracterization, indeed. But that's charitable. It's a deliberate distortion -- the popular Washington euphemism for "lie."

Some of your supporters now dismiss criticism of you as mere "Hillary-hating," which is a curious blend of both incisive truth and tactical diversion. Many, including some (and including myself) who greatly admired you prior to October 2002 do indeed "hate" what you became: an opportunistic jingoist when jingoism ruled, since going against the hard grain of hypernationalism at the time might spoil your later prospects for a White House run and make you appear "weak."

The irony, of course, is that it's now that you appear weak, having buckled under political pressure and supported an adventurism that virtually every thoughtful analyst said would cost the lives of thousands, drain the Treasury and destroy America's standing in the world.

But the "Hillary-hating" dismissal is also largely diversionary; a catchy alliteration designed to affiliate principled progressives with the mindless, Clinton-hating reactionaries of yesteryear.

It doesn't wash. For the key and operative word is "principled" -- enough is enough, and no longer should any pol be rewarded for pandering to the basest and bloodiest of human instincts. For too long the left has crooned "Give Peace A Chance" and chanted "Solidarity," only to then pat the heads of those leftie demagogues who nevertheless warily thought to themselves: Yeah, but what about the centrist vote?

Yesterday, Hillary, you re-projected a recently discovered appeal with appeal: "I spend my time out on the campaign trail -- it’s usually about what I can do for somebody else. I'm very 'other' directed -- I don’t like talking about myself.... For me, it’s always about, 'What can I do for you? How can I help you?'"

Here's a thought. Go back to New York and pray for forgiveness -- from those 16 families who needlessly lost loved ones last week, and from the next batch of families who are about to lose theirs this week, in part because you didn't want to appear "weak."

Huckabee Would Speak for a Religious Community of One

The conservative Hudson Institute's Paul Marshall wrote in the Washington Post yesterday that "This faith-drenched political primary season is enough to cause even an enthusiastic religious scholar like me to throw up my hands and contemplate joining the ACLU."

I'd run with that epiphany, Paul, but alas, he can't bring himself to it. Instead, he exhorts us to "demand that politicians address these fundamental issues [of the religio-political] in a serious, coherent and empirically grounded way."

Is he serious? Because that sentence sure isn't coherent, since there is no "empirically grounded way" to address the metaphysical. I believe Kant nailed that down a couple hundred years ago. Nevertheless he argues with exquisite circular logic that although some find the intrusion of religion into politics questionable, religion has indeed intruded into politics, hence we must permit religion into politics. Pretty nifty.

Yet, having settled that introductory debate once and for all, Mr. Marshall is still worried, because he finds that the real "problem with our contemporary talk of faith and politics is not that it exists but that it is so often so very shallow."

Imagine that: shallowness in politics, which, of course, the introduction of faith merely compounds and exacerbates. For faith is, by definition, a shallow endeavor -- there exist preconceived theological answers to every secular problem, and they're to be found in the inerrant Good Book (choose your version).

The U.S. Constitution? Well, it's so damned humanly democratic, anticipating, as it does, all that otherwise necessary compromise and unremitting controversy -- neither of which is permitted by the theological mind, because one doesn't argue with God, and one doesn't compromise on His written demands. Controversy begone, because it's all there, right there before you (assuming we're all reading the same biblical version and belong to the same religious sect).

No one in recent history has spotlighted these parenthetical difficulties better than the gubernatorially Most Right Reverend Mike Huckabee. For rather than merely exhorting his followers to participate in the democratic process, the subtext of his exhortations is unavoidably, theocratically authoritarian.

Said the Reverend Mike in Michigan yesterday to a gathering of about 100 conservative pastors: "I don't presume that you automatically support me because of a common faith." That in itself, of course, is disingenuous; why wasn't he instead addressing 100 rabbis? Need I remind you, Governor, there are otherworldly consequences for transgressing the Ninth Commandment, which, along with the other nine, you have intimated you "would be comfortable displaying ... in the White House." Again, referencing the parenthetically difficult, which version? Protestant, Catholic or Hebrew?

But Huckabee continued: "I also recognize that there is a unique kind of opportunity. For a long time, those of us who are people of faith are asked to support candidates who would come and talk to us. But rarely has there been one who comes from us." (Question, Mike: How many atheistic or agnostic pols can you name?)

Rarely has there been one who comes from us. But who is "us"? Believers? Christians? Protestants? Methodists? Pentecostals? Baptists? Southern Baptists? United Baptists? Calvinist Baptists? Free-will Baptists? Primitive Baptists?

Will each have a say in your administration? Will you convene some sort of Generally Christian Council of Nicaea before you make each executive decision? The finer points of God's Will are in play here, and people of faith -- whatever and each and every faith -- are entitled to weigh in with equal influence. Right?

But that, of course, is unworkably chaotic. There can be only one final voice of religious authority -- of "one who comes from us" -- in this secular setting, and that voice would be ... yours. Not ours, not theirs -- yours. Screw the Catholics and Free-will Baptists. They're on a different and staticky line with God. And how the ultimate result would differ from a pure, theocratic authoritarianism escapes me.

But moving on to the ridiculously sublime, there was this gem in the Post's coverage of Huckabee's Second or Third Coming in Michigan: He "complained ... that debate questions about his faith are of 'an unconstitutional nature,' since the Constitution forbids a religious test for potential officeholders."

I find myself speechless in the face of such unctuous, having-it-both-ways hypocrisy.

Ron Paul Has It Half-Right, But Half Only, Unfortunately

Michael Kinsley has a peculiar piece in the Washington Post. It's titled "The Church Doctrines of Pope Ron Paul," and subtitled "What's wrong with libertarianism?" Those titles are intriguing -- as headlines are intended to be -- but what makes his analysis peculiar is that he answers the subtitle while leaving the principal and damn-near transcendent questions inherent in the main title mostly unaddressed.

Which is to say, in a piece purportedly about Ron Paul, he ignores what has made Ron Paul a political phenomenon.

What has elevated Paul to household-name status is not his textbook libertarianism. That ideology has been rumbling around since the classical liberalism of Adam Smith, and the congenital problems it presented for responsible national policy grew glaringly manifest almost as swiftly as its appearance in the public arena.

Smith himself would have agreed with Kinsley's characterization of modern libertarians: "Chipmunky and earnest, always pursuing logical consistency down wacky paths, they pose no real threat to the established order." No real threat, because, as most of the citizenry knows, stripping government of its power to intervene and regulate would only lead to what Smith feared and expected most -- wholly unfettered corporate cartels and monopolies that would reverse any free-market conditions that he theoretically envisioned.

Smith lived in another age; an age when a sort of Jeffersonian economic democracy was still possible, but whose regulation by government, if necessary, he would have embraced. Yet libertarians take the "logical consistency" of only part of Smith's writings and apply it to the max: government is a constant bad, not a variable, and therefore should merely deliver the mails and provide for the cheapest possible common defense.

Well, if you think the "established order" is bad now, just limit government to those two functions and see what you get.

Actually, I can tell you what you'd get, because we already had it, and in spades. You'd get the very pre-New Deal kind of society that Americans at large -- after numerous booms and busts, an anarchic banking system, accelerating impoverishment and increasing concentrations of wealth -- had finally had enough of.

The New Deal and its postwar-government contours were democratic inventions. And they led to the greatest explosion of a middle-class America in our history. Did things get out of whack? You bet your downscale butt they did. But the only effective means of righting our ship of state is through more official watchdog-ism, not less. Remove the visible hand of government and you invite -- indeed, you guarantee -- the very unfettered corporate gorilla that most Americans, including libertarians, view as so repellent.

Kinsley concludes by writing, "But nothing like this is obvious to libertarians." On the other hand, "they force us to think it all through from scratch," and therefore as a proponent of free and lively debate I agree with his final three words: "Good for them."

But, to return to my opening, he leaves untouched the one "church doctrine of Pope Ron Paul" that has launched the congressman to political stardom. And that doctrine has very little to do with economic libertarianism and everything to do with fundamentalist constitutionalism -- which, by the way, makes clear its support for an activist government. That alone prompted the creation of the partially anti-Constitution Anti-Federalists, the early political faction that Paul almost certainly would have joined and thereby makes his present emphasis on pure constitutionalism somewhat problematic, if not profoundly contradictory.

But, putting that aside, there's little question that the Founders, by and large, would have been intellectually palsied by today's growth of executive power, the shrinking of congressional pushback, and the spread of an imperial United States.

On this, Ron Paul is profoundly correct, and even many Americans unschooled in the finer points of original constitutional intent recognize this simple reality for the Bushian bastardization it is. We have not merely veered from a noble course; we have done left the tracks and careened smack into an intensely unAmerican bulwark of international arrogance.

That's the critical message that Paul delivers and more than a minority of Americans rightly accept. But those same Americans are also committed to social equity, and, since we no longer live in some pre-industrial semblance of a Jeffersonian economic democracy, they look to the government as watchdog. Paul does not, and that's why he, or anyone like him, can never close the sale.

The Splintered GOP on Parade

If any Democrat can't beat any of the Battling Bickersons in the Fox News debate last night, then the oldest political party in the world might as well fold its tent in permanently whipped humiliation. The televised exchange spotlighted the GOP's fractured ideological stance -- which is now wide indeed -- and overall the participants reflected the charm of a Bob Dole, the compassion of a Pat Robertson, and the brilliance of a George W. Bush.

Each tried his best on occasion to come across as light-hearted and personable -- except, of course, the humorless Ron Paul -- but the funniest moment came from Fox News' co-interrogator Brit Hume as he labored mightily to foment a third world war over the recent Strait of Hormuz incident. The poor dear was obviously crushed when he failed to enlist the panelists' disgust over the lack of the U.S. Navy's general bombardment of ... somebody, anybody ... but the South Carolina Republican Party compensated by opening the debate with a rousing choral rendition of the Star Spangled Banner.

Fox News didn't yet have a transcript up at the time of this early-morning writing, so I'm afraid I can't provide a link for your fullest edification. I did try settling for Fox News' online coverage of the debate, but when, early on, it noted John McCain's past as a "ship captain" rather than Naval aviator (a reference I now see they have just deleted), I thought it best to rely on Fox News no more. Can those folks, first try, ever get anything right?

So I skipped on over to the New York Times for quotable quotes instead, especially since the Times itself entered as a target in last night's debate. The ever-witty Fred Thompson, with cue-card jokes firmly at hand, at one point quipped that "you can tell that the news is good coming out of Iraq because you read so little about it in The New York Times." Oh my, good one, Fred, a real zinger. One wonders who reads the Times to Fred, or if they've read to him any of its expansively positive tales of late; but golly shucks, a great joke is a great joke and reality only tends to spoil it.

Nonetheless the Times seemed to award "best performance" to the ungrateful Mr. Thompson, crediting him for having "provided some of the liveliest moments of the debate." These came about from Fred's crosshairs being fixed on Mike Huckabee, whom the former charged would deliver unto us "liberal economic policies, liberal foreign policies." I'm unsure what a "liberal foreign policy" is, exactly, other than decades of Cold Warriorism, but let us quibble not: the demagogic essence of Fred's broad offensives throughout the evening was merely that of dropping the dreaded L-bomb on the Huck.

One also wonders if Huckabee helped himself last night, as he tended to confirm Fred's charges on his "liberal economic" contours by countering with outrageous decencies like this: "We need to make sure that we communicate that our party is just as interested in helping the people who are single moms, who are working two jobs and still just barely paying the rent as we are the people at the top of the economy."

Has Mike checked his party registration lately? Is he aware that few Republicans pols since Alf Landon have cared about policies with a humanitarian spin? Give it up, Mike. You can't reinvent the modern GOP in a few months, and you can't change its primaries' megalomaniacal obsession with trickle-down tax cuts. Those single moms can by God fend for themselves, the losers.

The best scorching, however, came not from Thompson, in my opinion, but McCain. And it was -- you guessed it -- Mitt Romney who got sautéed. The moment came during one of Mitt's tedious demagogic spiels directed at Michigan's unemployed: "I know that there are some people who think, as Senator McCain did -- he said, you know, some jobs have left Michigan that are never coming back. I disagree. I’m going to fight for every single job." To which McCain replied, cooly: "Sometimes you have to tell people things they don’t want to hear along with things that they do want to hear. There are some jobs that aren’t coming back to Michigan. There are some jobs that won’t come back here to South Carolina." And with that touch of globalization reality, Mitt was left looking like the desperate demagogue he is.

Unfortunately, desperate demagoguery sells -- especially to desperate people. How it sells to the desperate in Michigan, we'll soon see.

And of course there was Rudy Giuliani, who mostly focused on setting a new record for the number of times a man can say "Ronald Reagan" in 90 minutes. I really do regret that a transcript isn't up yet, for I very much wanted to count the bootlicking references. It was like Rudy was on some kind of pre-recorded loop. In lieu of that count, however, I bring you this choice selection from Rudy, who hammered his early support of the surge in Iraq with Keith Olbermann-like, comedic rapidity: "The night of the president’s speech, I was on television. I supported the surge. I’ve supported it throughout." How he omitted squeezing "9/11" into that I'll leave for others to ponder, although I imagine somewhere out there today is an unemployed debate-prepper.

In general, though, the debate pretty much confirmed that any Democratic candidate should have the easiest cakewalk in the history of U.S. presidential elections. The GOP's 30-year-old fusion has unraveled, and that's what principally was on display last night in South Carolina. It no longer has a threefold base -- social, economic and national-security radicals -- but three bases. And there's a huge difference.

Of Two Johns: One, If He's Smart, the Future Vice-President

John McCain appears to be threading the needle so far, but he hasn't yet sown his comeback crusade into one, overall theme.

And because simplicity is the hallmark of any successful presidential campaign, he'll eventually -- and soon -- have to tidy things up in a singular concept, especially as this southerly economy encroaches on his usual territory of national security concerns.

"There's still a need for a larger overarching strategy to win the nomination," said a former aide, which was echoed by another: "I think John McCain today is the front-runner for the nomination, but his status is going to have to be reconfirmed in places like Michigan and South Carolina, and he's going to face his own hurdles in doing that. He's not the George Bush of 2000. He just doesn't have that kind of campaign."

Well, John, you may just have to stand short and reinvent yourself. You may just have to wallow in the whorishness of co-optation -- you may, that is, just have to pull a Bush 2000: You are whatever your appealing opponent is, times two, even while strangely underscoring that your opponent is an ignominious lout.

You should be an expert on the strategy, John, since you were on the brutal receiving end a few years back.

The winning word then was "reform" -- oddly identical to "change" -- and overnight George realized that he was, lo and behold, not only the real reformer of the two, but the reformer with results. Never mind that those results were hazy at best. All that's really important in a campaign is an attractive and alliterative slogan, which he pounded you with as he also pounded your character. You were dust in no time. I trust you recall.

Just do whatever works, John. That's the key to principled politics, and, as the New York Times' Caucus blog, among others, points out, that's also one critical element of Hillary's resurrection:

"After her Iowa defeat, Mrs. Clinton adopted ... the [Bush 2000] approach against Barack Obama. She co-opted Mr. Obama’s 'change' theme but argued that she could act to produce it, while her less-experienced rival could only talk."

I would only add that the process started somewhat earlier than the Caucus observed.

But next will come the character-assassination routine, already previewed in shabby rumors of Obama's illicit-drug use.

In the meantime, however -- unless things start to look hopelessly bleak for Hillary and yet another tactical shift is required -- she'll emphasize her Bushian credentials: a "reformer with results," which, in modern parlance, emerges as "change with experience." And just like with Bush, the results/experience coefficient will receive that little extra kick.

Of course if Hillary were really convinced that the country needs experience above all other qualifications, she would have endorsed former congressman, former cabinet secretary, former United Nations ambassador and present Governor Bill Richardson from the git-go.

As she got up every morning, devoting her tender thoughts exclusively to how she could help you, she simply would have initialed Bill's resume and sent a check.

Yet now, it appears, Bill is headed permanently for parts West, thereby narrowing the Democratic field to three, and leading to one final thought: In the run-up to the showdown of Feb. 5, you're going to start hearing the less-than admirable word "spoiler" in regular connection to the remaining fringe candidate, John Edwards.

Should you happen to be an Edwards supporter, I hasten to add that I use the descriptive "fringe" not as an insult, but as a mere matter of fact. John is not going to win this thing -- period -- not by delegates, not by brokering, not by any political miracle ever revealed to mankind.

It's over, John, and that's just a political reality. That may be good, may be bad, but either way, that's the way the open field has broken.

Perhaps if Mr. Obama were to whisper sweet vice-presidential promises in your ear, you will reconsider your commitment to finishing the marathon. As a co-candidate of "change," your (as many would read it) heroic withdrawal and subsequent Obama-endorsement over the Democratic personification of Bush 2000 would swiftly decide this race -- and that's hardly a mere booby prize.

You're a young man, John. You'll still be a young man in 2016. It's the smart play -- even smarter than Hillary's.

The Tracks of Her Calculating Tears

OK, Barack, and you too, John. Start blubbering. Show them your soft, feminine, vulnerable side. Choke when you say "change," gentlemen, and choke with feeling. You know, for the children.

Astonishing. Absolutely astonishing -- both the brilliance of fatigue and the volatility of voters.

"I was moved," said a retired teacher of Hillary's glandular moment. And where there was one, there were thousands of similar sentiment, ultimately unwilling "to leave her in a time of trouble," as another Clinton-voter put it.

This morning Michael Powell of the New York Times succinctly framed the early history of this amusing and literal watershed: "When [Hillary] grew teary-eyed, television played the moment as a faux pas."

It did indeed. At the time I was baffled as to the why, and perplexed by pundits' nearly uniform declarations of scorn, ridicule and greater impending doom for the tearful candidate. For the incident was that very kind of utter meaninglessness but emotional seduction that can grip the multitudes and gyrate them like a spinning dime.

Late yesterday afternoon I sat dumbfounded watching Katrina vanden Heuval of The Nation pontificate on the sexist hostility of it all -- the pigs -- and emphasize the incident as a blistering negative for Hillary. Network commentators jumped on her choking only because she was a woman, said Katrina -- ignoring, as merely one example, Ed Muskie's campaign-obliterating choke in 1972.

In fact, Ms. vanden Heuval did have the sexist part right. It's just that she had its effect precisely backward. All in all Hillary's tears were an immense plus -- only Mr. Nixon could go to China, and only Mrs. Clinton could get away with blubbering on camera in this otherwise all-male campaign.

Had Obama or Edwards suffered an emotional breakdown Monday while talking about their "feelings," both likely would have sustained Muskie-like repercussions -- Sure they're tired, voters and pundits would have said; but then asked, Was there some element of emotional instability underlying their "faux pas"?

But who knows. They may have to risk it, for there was instant talk last night of Hillary's "new narrative." Translation: Prepare yourself for more blubbering. "As the television networks sounded her victory, Mr. McAuliffe, former head of the Democratic National Committee, declared that moment a signal of Mrs. Clinton’s lifelong passions." Good grief.

According to exit polls, it was registered Democrats above all others who were emotionally credulous and intellectually befuddled, backing Hillary with "solid support" versus Obama's independent base. Again, it's astonishing. Absolutely astonishing. For nearly seven years hardcore Democrats have decried George Bush's mindless jingoism and illegal interventionism -- and then what do they do, when they have a chance to reverse it all? You got it. They march right out and cast a vote for the one Democratic candidate who helped launch the mindlessness and has been its staunchest Democratic supporter ever since.

Add to that exit-polling curiosity this one as well: Interviewers "found that 46 percent of respondents named Mr. Obama as the candidate most likely to defeat a Republican in November; 36 percent said that of Mrs. Clinton." Go figure.

What's more, "more voters viewed her as qualified to be commander in chief than said Mr. Obama was ready for that role." And why's that? Only because she was waving the flag behind the artillery with the best of the neocons -- you know, the ones Democrats despise.

The tear-seduction may pass, though, just as suddenly as it gripped the contradictory Dems. That's the way these things work (although not if Hillary and Terry McAuliffe have anything to say about it). Plus, Nevada and South Carolina still look hopeful for Obama, which would put Hillary back into the loss column and create yet more strain on her financial resources.

One can take guesses, one can predict, but of course there's no way of knowing. Obama may genuinely start blubbering sometime today, and we could have a whole new ballgame. One simply never knows, which is what makes these gladiatorial contests so eternally fascinating, and frequently astonishing.

If nothing else, however, yesterday did confirm the long-offered observation of countless political philosophers: In the hands of well-meaning fools, there's nothing more dangerous than democracy.

Did Bush Just Kick McCain In the Teeth?

John McCain admits that he struggles "to keep that emotional range as narrow as possible," meaning he tries to keep his famous temper under control, at least in public. That may require some additional effort these days, for my well-earned cynicism tells me that his Republican presidential pal is now either playing favorites or is trying to torpedo any Republican successor. To wit ...

Not even Herbert Hoover was as openly pessimistic about the economy as George Bush was yesterday, who conceded to a group of fellow plutocrats that "jobs are growing at a slower pace," that he just noticed we face "economic challenges," that "recent economic indicators have become increasingly mixed," and that "many Americans are anxious about" the snowballing mess.

The assembled plutocrats already knew this, of course, as did those many angst-ridden Americans, but for a sitting president to publicly cast doom in a transitional election year on an economy he helped create is, in my memory, unprecedented. Hence the cynicism: The little creep must be up to something of skulduggery dimensions. Simple honesty and transparency are beyond his grasp.

Which directs our attention to possible scenario #1 -- that Bush is playing favorites, and that his favorite is Mitt Romney.

Pop already hosted Mitt for his "Faith in America" speech that reframed the Founders' insights on freedom and religion, so there seems to already exist some familial affection for the religious scholar and abominable historian as would-be president.

But talk of a tanking economy provides a more pragmatic and politically oriented basis for Pop's son to suddenly play favorites, however subtly. And lo and behold, the talk just happened to arrive virtually on the eve of the New Hampshire primary, in which Mitt is widely forecast to bomb out.

Any redirection of Republicans and independents' attention away from national security and terrorism -- McCain's twin towers of public acclaim -- and toward the nation's troubled economic machinery can only benefit Mitt, that grizzled business executive without any foreign policy portfolio. Any pol who can turn a city's Olympics around! -- well, now there's a cool-headed man for a bumbling economy of trillions.

Time magazine's David Von Drehle has remarked on the perplexity of Mitt's failed mission among Republican voters; that the enthusiastic supply-sider has "Filled up the dish, put it on the floor, and the dog just won't eat it." But perhaps if the chief supply-sider himself starts ringing the bells of alarm, those voters will soon find it's a necessary case of bon appétit.

That, anyway, is my theory #1 behind yesterday's bizarre confession of a dangerous mind.

The other is one I've suggested before: that the very last person George W. Bush wants to see in the White House come 2009 is one with an "R" before his name.

Such a partisan ascension would provide ideological and policy continuity, and that is scarcely in Bush's legacy interests when the walls of Baghdad start tumbling down, as, in time, they surely will. A reasonable argument can be made that the president would much prefer that a Democrat ride into office and start antagonistically tampering with the Middle East paradise that Bush will later claim he left intact. Oh, if only those irresponsible Dems had left well enough alone.

And what better way to boost that Democrat's electoral prospects than to suggest doom for the economy, which already, according to polls, overshadows the electorate's concerns about Iraq?

Either way -- whether Bush is pimping for Mitt, or, alternatively, greasing the skids for Democrats -- the president's Cassandra speech of yesterday seemed suspiciously timed. And both propositions seemed to be aimed with some hostility right at McCain.

Nevertheless, for the next 12 hours McCain's bigger headache is no Republican. It's Barack Obama and his independent appeal, which could siphon off the Arizonan's poll-indicated margin of victory in New Hampshire.

But I'd wager that McCain momentarily was left fuming anyway, struggling to keep a lid on his temper. For it no longer appears that his pal George is quite as independent as are those deciding John's future today.

George Will Suffers Apoplexy

I'll give co-populists John Edwards and Mike Huckabee credit for at least one jolly-good thing in this election cycle: They have upset the normally unflappable George Will, and by extension, I presume, all like him, as they sit in their gilded cages and contemplate the destruction of privilege -- oh, the unfairness of it all.

Actually, to say George is upset is to understate things. He is beside himself, foaming with seasonal rabidity; the poor man is right on the edge of the hysterical precipice -- the populists are coming, the populists are coming, and one would think they have George's personal number.

Yesterday he unleashed a fusillade in print that scorched the paper. Having pondered the existential threat that Edwards and Huckabee seem to represent to the steady-as-you-goers, Will fumed that "each overflows with and wallows in the pugnacity of the self-righteous who discern contemptible motives behind all disagreements with them, and who therefore think opponents are enemies."

Will must be reading his Hegel again. I too am guilty of thinking of opponents as enemies, rather than would-be friends in the whole thesis-antithesis-synthesis thing, but only because the enemies of progressivism have been screaming "UnAmerican!" at us for so long that I came to believe they didn't really like us. But I stand corrected, and I accept George's guileless friendship.

What does continue to puzzle, however, is why George became so exercised over Edwards and Huckabee's populist strategies, which only seem par for any political course that follows the likes of many an agonizing year of corporate-Republican rule. Here, Will emphasizes the North Carolinian's complicity in populistic shallowness:

"Edwards seems unaware that the world market sets the price of oil. He says a $100-a-barrel price is evidence of -- surging demand in India and China? unrest in Nigeria's oil fields? No, 'corporate greed.' That is Edwards' explanation of every unpleasantness."

True on both counts. But what I can't understand is why it upsets Will so much. No pol can rally the masses without easily digested, readily understandable bumper-sticker sloganeering. And that's mostly what the bloody shirt of Edwards' "corporate greed" is. Obama's is "change." Clinton's is, was, and is again "experience," or "experience for change," or "change through experience," or some such thing. I'm not sure, but neither is Hillary, and that's Hillary's problem.

Mr. Will does indeed explain why it upsets, but I thought him a trifle more sophisticated. Writes George in a phobic, Cato-institutional froth: "Populists want to sharply increase [government] by expanding the regulatory state's reach and enlarging its agenda of determining the distribution of wealth."

Ah, the socialist bogeyman. But give me one of those famous breaks for which kids plead. This is a conservative nation, George, and no one is going to appropriate your second summer home. All Edwards has advocated is banning lobbyists -- one assumes only corporate lobbyists; there are, after all, others -- from White House conclaves. But he's also gone out of his way to note that he would, of course, work and play well with the legislative children on Capitol Hill.

Now, George, stop and think. The legislation that trickles up to the president's desk will continue to be filtered through the influence, demands and outright graft of corporate lobbyists. Edwards could, I suppose, sit there in the Oval Office and veto corporate-friendly bill after bill, only to encounter congressional overrides or executive-legislative gridlock. What either would accomplish is largely in the eye of the beholder; but one thing it most decidedly would not accomplish is the equitable "[re]distribution of wealth."

That, I'm sorry to say, awaits a fundamental reworking of human nature; a vastly consensual, democratic socialism that is centuries or millennia down the road, if ever, of this historically conservative country.

So George, chill out, to borrow yet another cliche from our youth. Even should Edwards somehow miraculously make it to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue -- which I happen to think he will, but as vice president -- the sky won't fall; the unprivileged villagers won't march on your affluent digs; and the lobbyists, as you correctly point out, will merely redouble their efforts.

Populism is just politics, George. That's all it is. Edwards sells his crackerjack brand, Huckabee sells another, and Ron Paul sells yet something else. But in the end, each surprise in the box comes out looking pretty much like the others. Because money hires the pols and writes the rules. And until that system is reduced to rubble, ain't hardly nothin' gonna change.

A Savage Evening With Gang-Bangers

The only dynamic in the Democratic debate last night that exceeded expectations was the degree to which Edwards aligned himself with Obama against Clinton. That tactic, as stated, was certainly expected, and even previewed by Edwards from Thursday night on, but last night he pounded it with delightful verve.

"I didn't hear these kinds of attacks from Senator Clinton when she was ahead," Edwards said in a flanking maneuver on Obama's behalf. "Every time he speaks out for change, every time I fight for change, the forces of status quo are going to attack -- every single time."

Bill Richardson characterized the staged spat as more heated than hostage negotiations, which was funny in a Rodney King sort of way -- hey, Bill just wants to get along with somebody, anybody, who might be hiring -- but my guess is that Edwards is merely, smartly, and already positioning himself for the number two slot.

Given the ridiculously compressed primary schedule, there was an indefinable sense in the air that this thing is already over, at least as far as Edwards is concerned.

Which is what made the dynamics in the Republican debate of more interest.

Romney was badly and probably mortally wounded last week, but not by the heir apparent, as was the Democratic case. His problem is with the man who neither won, placed or showed in Iowa, but now appears to be the GOP Establishment's newest and oldest hope against the evangelically pixilated and populistically regressive Huckabee.

One could almost see the blood in the water and smell the scent of Romney's political death as McCain was joined by his fellow but less hopeful attackers to finish him off. Even Fred Who spoke on occasion.

But what nailed it, I think, was that the orchestrated attacks on Romney's ideological elasticity were underscored by humor, more so than policy pummelings. And when a candidate becomes more of a public joke than an existential threat, he's cooked.

"We disagree on a lot of issues," quipped McCain, "but I agree you are the candidate of change."

"Which one?" was Huckabee's rapier thrust at Romney when the latter chastised him: "Governor, don’t try to characterize my position." And best zinger of the night went to Giuliani, who dryly noted that St. Ronald "would be in one of Mitt’s negative commercials" with respect to immigrant amnesty. Poor Mitt.

The only substantive differences arose from Ron Paul's hopeless attempts to explain the international facts of life to the hyper-jingoistic country clubbers, who alternated in their responses from feigned outrage to smug smiles.

Poor Mitt, hell. Poor Paul. He must have felt like Copernicus at a papal court of inquiry. Everyone knows that we and our wants and our needs are at the center of the universe, and all others in the orbital scheme of things must bow to the inexorable laws of U.S. supremacy.

To even question such received dogma is to cast oneself as worse than a heretic -- it's just plain unAmerican, according to the new and revised editions of the U.S. Constitution, the Declaration of Independence and Eisenhower Republicanism.

It's a pity that Paul's domestic views are as medieval as his opponents' suicidal interventionism.

He could have founded a seriously tenacious wing of humility among the Republican rank and file, but his bizarre ravings about the "monetary system" and simplistic advocacy of stripping a complex nation of 300 million of its chief means of fiscal support serve only to marginalize him to flash-in-the-pan third-party status.

Nevertheless it was Paul's unwelcomed interventionism into the GOP club's mindless militarism über alles that singularly made the evening's fare worth viewing.

Because Mitt's ruthless molestation seemed to pronounce that this race, too, is all but over.

Hillary, Change, and History: Three Irreconcilables

Unsurprisingly, Hillary Clinton's advisers are trying to determine where they went wrong and how they can right things literally overnight in New Hampshire. Consequently the New York Times has invested in a 1,300-word examination of her predicament. It is here that one finds the surprise.

I and millions of others can tell you in one word where Hillary went wrong, but, astonishingly, you won't find that word anywhere among the NYT's numerous quotations or expansive analysis.

Forget "change." The word is Iraq.

And the lesson she's learning is that for all the campaign talk about change, she can't change history, and it is history -- specifically, that of Oct. 2002 -- that haunts her. Yet, again, nowhere in any of the analysis of Clinton's problems is Iraq referenced even once -- not by the outside experts, not by her advisers, not even by the NYT's remarkably uninquisitive journalists.

Their coverage of the Clinton Panic does skim the broad, the shallow, the seemingly inclusive and, at first glance, every finger-pointing angle imaginable.

One campaign adviser attacked Mark Penn -- a senior, C- Machiavellian who continued dumping the cocaine charge on Obama even after that tactic self-immolated -- for failing to grasp in a timely manner that change was trumping experience. Another blamed Penn and hubby Bill for poring over polling data while Hillary's "personality deficit" was left dangling.

Others regretted having put Bill out there so visibly -- "that the campaign miscalculated in having Mr. Clinton play such a public role, that Mrs. Clinton could not effectively position herself as a change agent ... so long as he stood as a reminder that her presidency would be much like his."

Yet others have come to believe "that Mr. Obama now owns the 'change' mantra and that Mrs. Clinton needs a Plan B."

Delving further into abstractions, the NYT also reports that some advisers think "both Clintons had miscalculated the endurance and depth of what they called 'the Obama phenomenon.'" Both were convinced that "more voters would question whether Mr. Obama was ready to be president and more reporters would pick apart his political record and personal character."

But now, for the pièce de résistance: "Anger inside the campaign at the news media has hardened; Mr. Clinton, in particular, believes reporters will be complicit if Mr. Obama becomes the nominee and loses to a Republican."

Complicit? Well, maybe, but only in a way favorable to Hillary. For how the New York Times -- the paper of record -- could print a 1,300-word piece on what ails the Clinton campaign without even once mentioning her war-authorization vote is nothing less than stunning.

A little clarity is needed. And since the Times won't offer it, I will.

Clinton sold out 4,000 Americans and hundreds of thousands of Iraqis, not to mention a couple trillion of your and your childrens' money, for political advantage in 2002 -- as a safe cushion, that is, for 2008. It was as simple as that: others' lives and the U.S. Treasury for her shot at the White House.

The Democratic base knows it and independents know it. Hers was a calculated exchange, as cold-blooded, impersonal and politically clinical as they come. And now the electorate is reciprocating. There would have been no "Obama phenomenon" for Hillary to suffer without it. The same goes for John Edwards.

There's not a soul alive who believes that any member of Congress honestly believed that Iraq was a grave threat to national security, one in need of a military intervention that virtually every Middle East expert said would blow up in our faces. I'm no expert and I knew better -- how could a United States senator not have known?

It was just pure politics: Republicans wanting to capitalize on hypernationalistic gung-hoism and a grotesquely large segment of gutless Democrats not wanting to be left behind.

Clinton is now paying for it, Edwards is paying for it, Joe Biden and Chris Dodd have already paid for it. Simple as that.

Had Obama been a presidentially ambitious U.S. senator in 2002, perhaps he'd be paying now as well. Who knows. But that's a hypothetical, not hardcore reality. He's been lucky enough to spout "change" because of his inexperience -- he wasn't around at the time to be tested, as were Clinton, Edwards, Biden and Dodd, all of whom failed.

In a way, "change" is indeed the problem for Mrs. Clinton. She can't change history.

President Obama

Barack Obama can start taking drape measurements at the White House. It's hard to see how, and by whom, he can be stopped now -- and by that I mean all the way, not just in the primaries.

John Edwards vowed to continue the fight, of course, but he's broke and his troops are dispirited, with the emphasis on broke. Iowa was a must-win for the former senator and vice-presidential candidate, who's been campaigning there virtually since the caucus doors closed in 2004.

What little money Edwards did have coming in will now dry up. So his supply lines are severed, his forces are dazed and scattered, and he's sandwiched between two behemoths loaded with cash. A reprisal of his v.p.-candidate role is the best he can do.

And things look nearly as bleak for Hillary Clinton, that behemoth #2 who managed no better than third. Early on in this already truncated nominating process the Clinton campaign thought it might be best to skip Iowa, and this morning I imagine there are a lot of "gut-instinct" references being dropped on the geniuses who overruled that strategy.

Naturally the height of Obama's Iowa bounce in New Hampshire is impossible to yet predict, but bounce he undoubtedly will. And he didn't need much of one. He was already making serious inroads into Clinton's N.H. numbers -- and now the inevitability worm has turned. Plus, her future money will start seeking safer harbor.

You can also add to Obama's column the assorted and presently wandering Biden and Dodd voters, who, having originally been in search of change, are unlikely to align at this late hour with third-place experience.

Hence Clinton's firewall is moved once again -- this time, Giuliani-like, to Feb. 5; next time to 2012 or '16.

As for the Dark Side, it would seem that Mike Huckabee managed merely to open the road for John McCain. With the possible exception of upcoming South Carolina, the Huck staged his finest hour last night, as his hordes of religiously bigoted evangelicals marched with torches lit to the cavernous caucuses, whereupon they eviscerated and exorcised the Evil One of differing faith.

You gotta love it: sectarian war in Ottumwa. My guess? By 2011, Mitt will have converted to Pentecostalism.

In the much shorter term, however, Republicans are still left in search of a candidate, and the pickings are growing slimmer by the hour.

Romney wasn't just beaten last night; he was bloodied and humiliated. His N.H. numbers are now likely to plummet like a spinning altimeter in a nosedive, and he's already seen the future in South Carolina. By Feb. 5, he'll be but a memory.

Rudy Giuliani hasn't been seen since he bivouacked in Miami, where his firewall hopes are going up in flames. Fred Who squeaked out the narrowest of thirds last night, but I doubt he has bothered to notice. If he has, he's probably only depressed by the necessity of now having to prolong the agony another week or so. As for Ron Paul, I imagine he's occupied this morning by researching third-party state-ballot requirements.

So Republicans are left with Mr. McCain, unless they opt for an "Animal House"-like act of insane futility and go with the Huck. Such kamikaze missions are not unknown in American politics, but this one's unlikely. The non-evangelical Establishment will dig in, hunker down, and hit back.

But although the Arkansas governor parted the sea for McCain's nomination, and although McCain is no doubt bathing himself in celestial rays of sunlight and angelic choral singing this morning, the water is destined to flood in again. The electorate is heavily trending Democratic (as last night's caucus attendance numbers confirmed); rank-and-file conservatives are still cranked at McCain; the war he ballyhoos will intensify in the coming months; the economy will continue its southerly path; more people will lose their health care, which McCain's wholly market-driven cure won't cure; Americans are just plain sick of the GOP ... and so on, and so on.

The only thing that could really upset all other things considered is Mayor Bloomberg's billion-dollar hat in the ring. That decision awaits us.

Otherwise, and excluding that, you may pre-order your Obama Inaugural Ball tickets today.

Unless of course I'm wrong.

Oddly Enough, the Un-War Could Undo McCain

If reports of shifting concerns among the electorate -- away from the war, toward the pocketbook -- are correct, then the reasons that caucusgoers give for why they participated rather than whom they supported will hold today's longer term significance in the nominating process. Such a shift could, and probably would, also spell doom for the GOP in the general.

In something of a tautology, the New York Times this morning says "the shift suggests that economic anxiety may be at least matching national security as a factor driving the 2008 presidential contest as the voting begins." Yet the rising anxiety is the shift; at once the cause and the effect; both the mover and the moved.

Nevertheless, although Iraq may still dominate the Iowan Democratic mind, the article notes that "the war is becoming a less defining issue among Democrats nationally, and it has moved to the back of the stage in the rush of campaign rallies, town hall meetings and speeches that are bringing the caucus competition to an end. Instead, candidates are being asked about" -- and are better prepared to answer, I'm sure, as a result of internal-polling forewarnings -- "the mortgage crisis, rising gas costs, health care, immigration, the environment and taxes."

How the shift could effect the dynamics of the Democratic race is, of course, still anybody's guess. John Edwards' anti-corporate spiel could take off, or Obama's exhortations for a change in leadership style could take root, or, for that matter, voters could identify Hillary with the Clinton prosperity of the '90s and act, as well as think, nostalgically. The electoral leap from war to economics could also benefit Clinton by overshadowing her history of having helped to get us into the overseas mess in the first place.

Any one of these Democratic scenarios is equally plausible, and as of this morning, at least, the odds of each outcome are roughly equal as well. But within the GOP, the predictability factor grows even more erratic and the shift could be seismic in results.

It would seem that the Huckster is already history, despite his Edwardian populist rhetoric that could have had lasting appeal even among rank-and-file Republicans, who are beginning to suffer economically as much as actual human beings. But the Huck is toast, because he toasted himself, the poor demagogue. His sleaze finally outdistanced his aw-shucksism.

So GOPers are left, it would further seem, with only Romney and McCain.

At first blush, the tempered war in Iraq would appear to benefit McCain -- he can awe the crowds with his rapturous correctness on the matter of troop levels. Indeed, on the campaign trail it's reported he "is off of the defensive and now positions himself as having been prescient about what would work to quell the violence" -- until Iraq re-materializes as a massive fireball, anyway.

Yet paradoxically, the shift in voter attention away from the war could also do harm to McCain. He's not known for his domestic-fix-it skills, or for anything domestically, except fixing problems for millionaires.

So enter Mitt: the man for all ages, all seasons, all ideologies; the man who will happily be whatever you want him to be, and, in fact, always has been. He is troubled not by a principled bone in his opportunistic body. The chameleon is an insult to Mitt's abilities, and to shame Mitt shall put the beast.

He has already "begun talking about expanding health care coverage," an issue from his embarrassing liberal past that he downplayed while fighting the previously threatening Islamofascists with the bravest and best of them. But Mitt can turn on the proverbial dime. If it's health care that worries you now, you're in luck, because that's always been Mitt's chief worry, too.

Maybe it's the mortgage crisis that keeps you up at night? Again, you're in luck, because that happens to be at the top of Mitt's list of priorities, and he'll fix it any way you want.

Or maybe it's rising gas costs, or immigration, or the environment or taxes that top your list. Excellent. They top Mitt's, too. And as for the cures, he happens to agree with you, you lucky thing.

I'm still betting that McCain threads the needle through New Hampshire and beyond, largely by default. But if Republicans opt for Romney, oh how they'll pine for their martial expert after the nomination process is over and done.

Because the war isn't.

The Illusion of Iowan Democracy, and Ours

Golly, I'm as giddy as a schoolgirl.

Here we are, on the eve of the cornfield caucuses, in which a couple hundred thousand middle-aged white folks -- large segments of whom are still undecided after 18 months of candidates' appearances, personal visits, phone calls, emails, flyers, broadcast ads, newspaper editorials, endorsements, etc., etc., etc. -- choose the next president for all 300 million of us.

Well, they do not, of course, actually choose the next president, but their role is as close to an exclusionary bubble as any nominating process can get; the consequences range from the hugely influential to the damn-near dictatorial.

It's enough to make the old smoke-filled rooms -- Democratic party bosses and labor racketeers in one, Republican party bosses and corporate racketeers in another -- look democratic. And their more direct results, one must admit, were often more appealing as well, from Abraham Lincoln to Teddy Roosevelt to distant cousin Franklin.

Iowa gives us George Bushes.

But, as political philosopher Donald Rumsfeld once told us in the course of proving it, democracy is a messy thing. We go to nominating war with the system we have, not the system we need or want.

Still, as an excellent NYT piece points out this morning, Iowa's famed, quasi-democratic caucus system is even less quasi-democratic than the rest of us who must abide by its results might prefer. As a purported cross-section sampling of Middle America, demographically and democratically speaking, it comes up way short. It is, in fact, a troubled bubble of contradiction and democracy denied.

As a New York University election expert put it, "Just as nonrepresentative as Iowa is of the country, Iowa caucusgoers are nonrepresentative of Iowa as a whole." And the reason is simple.

For many, attending a caucus is an intolerable, time-consuming commitment, one beginning early in the evening and extending, not uncommonly, until the wee and exhausted hours of the following morning. This seemingly endless, needlessly bureaucratic gallimaufry is especially true of the Democratic caucuses, which should come as no surprise. Republicans are tidier, organized and businesslike: "voters can leave shortly after they declare their preferences."

But while the image of participatory, town-hall democracy in action looms large, the reality is quite different. Because the must-attend caucus system (absentee voting isn't permitted) "tend[s] to leave out nearly entire categories of voters: the infirm, soldiers on active duty, medical personnel who cannot leave their patients, parents who do not have baby sitters, restaurant employees on the dinner shift, and many others who work in retail, at gas stations and in other jobs that require evening duty."

The result, of course, is precisely what our election-law expert said it was -- a nonrepresentative slice of a nonrepresentative slice of a small, largely agricultural state of mostly comfortable whites with the freedom of bankers' hours in a vast, ethnically and socioeconomically diverse and mostly urban nation. And from this slice will come a virtual dictate of the subsequent ordeal in the next, small, primary state.

The reasons border on the abstruse, but suffice it to say, as the NYT did, that "to preserve their early voting opportunities, Iowa party leaders must defend a system that excludes many of the state’s people from voting."

Jacksonian democracy my ass. Even with exclusionary property requirements, insidious poll taxes and corrupt party bosses we got giants from time to time. Today's "refined" system reminds me of that classic line from "The Odd Couple," in which one of the poker-playing regulars, following Felix's rampant disinfecting and sterilizing, said, as best I can recall, It was better before ... It was better with the green bologna and molded cheese and smelly cigars.

And before someone writes to castigate me for advocating a return to poll taxes, chill out. I'm only saying there has to be a better way -- a far more representative, democratic way.