West Point Cadets Should Know Better

There's a bit of a kerfuffle on the interwebs these days, as this photo has become something of a litmus test for liberals and conservatives:

In it, a group of female, African-American Cadets pose (as many groups of students do) to recreate iconic old style photos. Except, in this one, the most iconic aspect of the photo is the raised fist, which most believe to represent "black power" or more recently, the Black Lives Matter movement.

You can read about the issue from the perspective David French at NRO, most of which I agree with. Or for a more sympathetic view, try this from the Wall Street Journal. 

Bottom line: this is an overt, political statement made while in uniform, and so it is thoroughly inappropriate, irrespective of how many other photos were taken, how "young" these women are (soon to be 2nd LT's, in the Army and THEY KNOW BETTER), or your sense that it shows "strong, proud women".

Ask yourself--what would be the reaction if pictured were a bunch of white, male, cadets, but with a Confederate Flag hoisted on the two swords in the middle? Would you try to explain it away as a sign of their strength and pride?

Good Piece Here from Iowahawk

Thought provoking. But I think he gives voters more credit than they deserve.

Bernie logic

Two tweets, both from Bernie Sanders, today:

It really is frightening when you have a party controlling the House and Senate saying, "You know what? We reject science."

— Bernie Sanders (@SenSanders) March 7, 2016

It's unacceptable that Monsanto is more concerned about their own profits than about a consumer's right to know what they are eating.

— Bernie Sanders (@SenSanders) March 6, 2016

Uh...

A Note on Comments

Readers,

This is a political blog (primarily) and there is a good bit of back and forth. I moderate the comments and let 90% of them through.  But one thing is sure to get your comment deleted--and that is if I write something--or one of the other bloggers writes something--that is decidedly NOT political, and you use that comment space to advance your agenda--it's gone.

This happened twice in the last day.

On the Return of The Kittens

Last week, I informed you that the Kittens would be alighting to Florida and leaving me here to fend for myself. That all comes to an end tomorrow sometime, and I will be the better for it. This has been a ridiculous week, and it is a sad glimpse into what my life would be like without a Catherine, a Hope, and a Hannah. I was at my computer for 18 hours a day, either working to make money, working to elect a President, working to see that someone else is not elected, or screwing around on social media. I took time off to eat, to hang with the dogs for a bit, to sleep, and to go to appointments.

I left the Navy eight years ago aiming to "live a bigger life"--that's what I've found here. Also, that's what I DID not live this week.

Life here has civilized me quite a bit--though my women would tell you there is much work still to be done on this front. I put a lot of effort into making big changes in my life in 2015--but I'm beginning to think that I declared victory way too early.

Gonna have me a think on all of this between now and when my girls come home.

Pat Conroy RIP

I read this morning of the death of one of my favorite authors, Pat Conroy. Conroy wrote the way that I would like to write if I wrote fiction--not Hemingwayesque, but smart, interesting, and believable.

His books are all a bit melodramatic, which is probably why I love them so much. His politics were not my cup of tea, but like Paul Theroux, I try and ignore the blatant liberalism and potshots at conservatives in order to get to the good stuff. And with Conroy, the really great stuff was about life in the American South.

Conroy lived a pretty screwed up childhood--as anyone who has read The Great Santini can tell you. You saw flashes of it in Prince of Tides and a number of his other books.

For me, the book I love best is Beach Music. I re-read it every couple of years, and it reminds me of the things I love about the way Conroy used the language. Each time I read it, there are places where I simply cannot keep reading because of the emotion that overcomes me. Last time I read it, The Kitten happened upon me in full on bawling and thought someone had died.  Someone had. A Pat Conroy character. And no one can write about a loved one's death like Pat Conroy.

Here now, is a reprise of something I've printed here before, Conroy's eulogy for his father--the Great Santini, Colonel Don Conroy. I've taken the liberty of underlining some of my favorite passages.



 The children of fighter pilots tell different stories than other kids do. None of our fathers can write a will or sell a life insurance policy or fill out a prescription or administer a flu shot or explain what a poet meant. We tell of fathers who land on aircraft carriers at pitch-black night with the wind howling out of the China Sea.

Our fathers wiped out aircraft batteries in the Philippines and set Japanese soldiers on fire when they made the mistake of trying to overwhelm our troops on the ground.

Your Dads ran the barber shops and worked at the post office and delivered the packages on time and sold the cars, while our Dads were blowing up fuel depots near Seoul, were providing extraordinarily courageous close air support to the beleaguered Marines at the Chosin Reservoir, and who once turned the Naktong River red with blood of a retreating North Korean battalion.

We tell of men who made widows of the wives of our nations' enemies and who made orphans out of all their children.

You don't like war or violence? Or napalm? Or rockets? Or cannons or death rained down from the sky?

Then let's talk about your fathers, not ours. When we talk about the aviators who raised us and the Marines who loved us, we can look you in the eye and say "you would not like to have been America's enemies when our fathers passed overhead".

We were raised by the men who made the United States of America the safest country on earth in the bloodiest century in all recorded history.

Our fathers made sacred those strange, singing names of battlefields across the Pacific: Guadalcanal, Iwo Jima, Okinawa, the Chosin Reservoir, Khe Sanh and a thousand more. We grew up attending the funerals of Marines slain in these battles.

Your fathers made communities like Beaufort decent and prosperous and functional; our fathers made the world safe for democracy.

We have gathered here today to celebrate the amazing and storied life of Col. Donald Conroy who modestly called himself by his nomdeguerre, The Great Santini.

There should be no sorrow at this funeral because The Great Santini lived life at full throttle, moved always in the fast lanes, gunned every engine, teetered on every edge, seized every moment and shook it like a terrier shaking a rat.

He did not know what moderation was or where you'd go to look for it. Donald Conroy is the only person I have ever known whose self-esteem was absolutely unassailable. There was not one thing about himself that my father did not like, nor was there one thing about himself that he would change. He simply adored the man he was and walked with perfect confidence through every encounter in his life. Dad wished everyone could be just like him.

His stubbornness was an art form. The Great Santini did what he did, when he wanted to do it, and woe to the man who got in his way. Once I introduced my father before he gave a speech to an Atlanta audience. I said at the end of the introduction, "My father decided to go into the Marine Corps on the day he discovered his IQ was the temperature of this room".

My father rose to the podium, stared down at the audience, and said without skipping a beat, "My God, it's hot in here! It must be at least 180 degrees".

Here is how my father appeared to me as a boy. He came from a race of giants and demi-gods from a mythical land known as Chicago. He married the most beautiful girl ever to come crawling out of the poor and lowborn south, and there were times when I thought we were being raised by Zeus and Athena.

After Happy Hour my father would drive his car home at a hundred miles an hour to see his wife and seven children. He would get out of his car, a strapping flight jacketed matinee idol, and walk toward his house, his knuckles dragging along the ground, his shoes stepping on and killing small animals in his slouching amble toward the home place.

My sister, Carol, stationed at the door, would call out, "Godzilla's home!" and we seven children would scamper toward the door to watch his entry.

The door would be flung open and the strongest Marine aviator on earth would shout, "Stand by for a fighter pilot!"

He would then line his seven kids up against the wall and say,

"Who's the greatest of them all?"
"You are, O Great Santini, you are."
"Who knows all, sees all, and hears all?"
"You do, O Great Santini, you do."

We were not in the middle of a normal childhood, yet none of us were sure since it was the only childhood we would ever have.

For all we knew other men were coming home and shouting to their families, "Stand by for a pharmacist," or "Stand by for a chiropractor".

In the old, bewildered world of children we knew we were in the presence of a fabulous, overwhelming personality; but had no idea we were being raised by a genius of his own myth-making.

My mother always told me that my father had reminded her of Rhett Butler on the day they met and everyone who ever knew our mother conjured up the lovely, coquettish image of Scarlet O'Hara.

Let me give you my father the warrior in full battle array. The Great Santini is catapulted off the deck of the aircraft carrier, Sicily. His Black Sheep squadron is the first to reach the Korean Theater and American ground troops had been getting torn up by North Korean regulars.

Let me do it in his voice: "We didn't even have a map of Korea. Not zip. We just headed toward the sound of artillery firing along the Naktong River. They told us to keep the North Koreans on their side of the Naktong. Air power hadn't been a factor until we got there that day. I radioed to Bill Lundin I was his wingman. 'There they are. Let's go get'em.' So we did."

I was interviewing Dad so I asked, "how do you know you got them?"

"Easy," The Great Santini said. "They were running - it's a good sign when you see the enemy running."

There was another good sign.

"What was that, Dad?"

"They were on fire."

This is the world in which my father lived deeply. I had no knowledge of it as a child.

When I was writing the book The Great Santini, they told me at Headquarters Marines that Don Conroy was at one time one of the most decorated aviators in the Marine Corps. I did not know he had won a single medal. When his children gathered together to write his obituary, not one of us knew of any medal he had won, but he had won a slew of them.

When he flew back toward the carrier that day, he received a call from an Army Colonel on the ground who had witnessed the route of the North Koreans across the river. "Could you go pass over the troops fifty miles south of here? They've been catching hell for a week or more. It'd do them good to know you flyboys are around."

He flew those fifty miles and came over a mountain and saw a thousand troops lumbered down in foxholes. He and Bill Lundin went in low so these troops could read the insignias and know the American aviators had entered the fray.

My father said, "Thousands of guys came screaming out of their foxholes, son. It sounded like a world series game. I got goose pimples in the cockpit. Get goose pimples telling it forty-eight years later. I dipped my wings, waved to the guys. The roar they let out. I hear it now. I hear it now."

During the Cuban Missile Crisis, my mother took me out to the air station where we watched Dad's squadron scramble on the runway on their bases at Roosevelt Road and Guantanamo.

In the car as we watched the A-4's take off, my mother began to say the rosary.

"You praying for Dad and his men, Mom?" I asked her.

"No, son. I'm praying for the repose of the souls of the Cuban pilots they're going to kill."

Later I would ask my father what his squadron's mission was during the Missile Crisis.

"To clear the air of MIGS over Cuba," he said.

"You think you could've done it?"

The Great Santini answered, "There wouldn't have been a bluebird flying over that island, son."

Now let us turn to the literary of The Great Santini.

Some of you may have heard that I had some serious reservations about my father's child-rearing practices. When The Great Santini came out, the book roared through my family like a nuclear device. My father hated it; my grandparents hated it; my aunts and uncles hated it; my cousins who adore my father thought I was a psychopath for writing it; and rumor has it that my mother gave it to the judge in her divorce case and said, "It's all there. Everything you need to know."

What changed my father's mind was when Hollywood entered the picture and wanted to make a movie of it. This is when my father said, "What a shame John Wayne is dead. Now there was a man. Only he could've gotten my incredible virility across to the American people."

Orion Pictures did me a favor and sent my father a telegram; "Dear Col. Conroy: We have selected the actor to play you in the coming film. He wants to come to Atlanta to interview you. His name is Truman Capote."

But my father took well to Hollywood and its Byzantine, unspeakable ways. When his movie came out, he began reading Variety on a daily basis. He called the movie a classic the first month of its existence. He claimed that he had a place in the history of film. In February of the following year, he burst into my apartment in Atlanta, as excited as I have ever seen him, and screamed, "Son, you and I were nominated for Academy Awards last night. Your mother didn't get squat".

Ladies and gentlemen-You are attending the funeral of the most famous Marine that ever lived. Dad's life had grandeur, majesty and sweep. We were all caught in the middle of living lives much paler and less daring than The Great Santini's. His was a high stepping, damn-the torpedoes kind of life, and the stick was always set at high throttle. There is not another Marine alive who has not heard of The Great Santini. There's not a fighter pilot alive who does not lift his glass whenever Don Conroy's name is mentioned and give the fighter pilot toast: "Hurrah for the next man to die".

One day last summer, my father asked me to drive him over to Beaufort National Cemetery. He wanted to make sure there were no administrative foul-ups about his plot. I could think of more pleasurable ways to spend the afternoon, but Dad brought new eloquence to the word stubborn. We went into the office and a pretty black woman said that everything was squared away.

My father said, "It'll be the second time I've been buried in this cemetery." The woman and I both looked strangely at Dad. Then he explained, "You ever catch the flick "The Great Santini? That was me they planted at the end of the movie."

All of you will be part of a very special event today. You will be witnessing the actual burial that has already been filmed in fictional setting. This has never happened in world history. You will be present in a scene that was acted out in film in 1979. You will be in the same town and the same cemetery. Only The Great Santini himself will be different.

In his last weeks my father told me, "I was always your best subject, son. Your career took a nose dive after The Great Santini came out". He had become so media savvy that during his last illness he told me not to schedule his funeral on the same day as the Seinfeld Farewell. The Colonel thought it would hold down the crowd. The Colonel's death was front-page news across the country. CNN announced his passing on the evening news all around the world.

Don Conroy was a simple man and an American hero. His wit was remarkable; his intelligence frightening; and his sophistication next to none. He was a man's man and I would bet he hadn't spend a thousand dollars in his whole life on his wardrobe. He lived out his whole retirement in a two-room efficiency in the Darlington Apartment in Atlanta. He claimed he never spent over a dollar on any piece of furniture he owned. You would believe him if you saw the furniture. Dad bought a season ticket for himself to Six Flags Over Georgia and would often go there alone to enjoy the rides and hear the children squeal with pleasure. He was a beer drinker who thought wine was for Frenchmen or effete social climbers like his children.

Ah! His children. Here is how God gets a Marine Corps fighter pilot. He sends him seven squirrelly, mealy-mouth children who march in peace demonstrations, wear Birkenstocks, flirt with vegetarianism, invite cross-dressers to dinner and vote for candidates that Dad would line up and shoot. If my father knew how many tears his children had shed since his death, he would be mortally ashamed of us all and begin yelling that he should've been tougher on us all, knocked us into better shape - that he certainly didn't mean to raise a passel of kids so weak and tacky they would cry at his death. Don Conroy was the best uncle I ever saw, the best brother, the best grandfather, the best friend-and my God, what a father. After my mother divorced him and The Great Santini was published, Don Conroy had the best second act I ever saw. He never was simply a father. This was The Great Santini.

It is time to leave you, Dad. From Carol and Mike and Kathy and Jim and Tim and especially from Tom. Your kids wanted to especially thank Katy and Bobby and Willie Harvey who cared for you heroically. Let us leave you and say goodbye, Dad, with the passwords that bind all Marines and their wives and their children forever. The Corps was always the most important thing.

Semper Fi, Dad

Semper Fi, O Great Santini.

My dear friends and fellow lovers of Santini,

You have written so many letters of condolence since my father died that I've been overwhelmed at the task of answering them. But know this, all of them meant something, all of them moved me deeply, all were appreciated, and all were read. Don Conroy was larger than life and there was never a room he entered that he left without making his mark. At some point in his life, he passed from being merely memorably to being legendary.

In the thirty-three years he was in the Marine Corps, Col. Conroy concentrated on the task of defending his country and he did so, exceedingly well. In the next twenty-four years left to him, he put all his efforts into the art of being a terrific father, a loving uncle, a brother of great substance, a beloved grandfather, and a friend to thousands. Out of uniform, the Colonel let his genius for humor flourish. Always in motion he made his rounds in Atlanta each day and no one besides himself knew how many stops he put in during a given day. He was like a bee going from flower to flower, pollinating his world with his generous gift for friendships.

Don Conroy was a man's man, a soldier's soldier, a Marine's Marine. There was nothing soft or teddy-bearish about him. His simplicity was extraordinary. He died without ever owning a credit card, never took out a loan in his life, and almost all the furniture in his apartment was rented. 

I think he loved his family with his body and soul, yet no one ever lived who was less articulate in expressing that love. On the day the doctor told him that there was nothing more to be done for him, my father told me, "Don't worry about it. I've had a great life. No one's had a life like me. Everyone should be so lucky."

Don Conroy died with exemplary courage, as one would expect.

He never complained about pain or whimpered or cried out. His death was stoical and quiet. He never quit fighting, never surrendered, and never gave up. He died like a king. He died like The Great Santini.

I thank you with all my heart.

Re: Hammer

I am prepared to be a Kasich man, a Cruz, man, a Rubio man alike. And if no one enters our convention with a majority, that will mean to me that a majority of the party is free to coalesce around someone else.

Mittmentum!

When The Kitten is Away

The Kitten and Kittens have alighted to Florida for Spring Break, leaving me here to hold down the fort while they frolic. At some point, I may take their late planning year in and year out as some kind of conspiracy to exclude me. But I digress.

I have been master of my domain for three hours now and have made good use of the time, to include a thorough pruning of the refrigerator's dubious bounty. I have thus far been unsuccessful in locating my Director's Cut box set of the Lord of the Rings series (which I watch every time they leave me for an extended period)--so if I lent it to you, please remind me.

UVA plays UNC at 1830, which is always something to get my Irish up. The good news is the game is at home--where we seem to have some competence, Our road record this year is crappy.

There is a YUGE ribeye thawing in the kitchen, and I'll throw down some lovely eggplant on the side.

I don't want you to think that I enjoy being left alone for over a week, because well, after a few days of it, I begin to miss them.

Dispatch from the Road: Newark Airport

The United Club in Terminal C at Newark is one of the better offerings in the United system---well laid out, bright, a fine temperature...it is unfortunately, not well "wired" as we say, with electrical outlets. After searching about for a good spot, comfy chair, good light, with an outlet, I settled upon a cozy nook just above Gate C80, and just across a startlingly good looking woman wearing leather pants. While I would not normally shy from claiming to have chosen this seat due solely to her presence, I must confess it was the outlet, and thoughts of communicating with you via this blog that brought me to this place. That is my story and I am sticking to it.

I am here awaiting a flight to San Diego, after having alighted from BWI earlier today. With a three hour break here in Newark, I have already 1) eaten lunch 2) procured a new computer bag and 3) had a 20 minute chair massage (delightful). I'll need to split in about an hour, which should be plenty of time for me to bring you up to speed.

Usually, I fly directly from Dulles to San Diego--but for some reason, that flight wasn't available and so I grabbed a twoleg from BWI--less driving, but more traveling. On the way home, it is twoleg via San Francisco. The biggest problem though is that my scheduler (me) did not take into account that there would be a debate on Thursday night, so I believe my viewing will be spotty at best.

I'm headed to San Diego for my monthly trip to visit with a client and hopefully catch up with a ton of homies the Navy continues to stock for my entertainment while there. For those wondering, I am in standard travel rig--trainers, Adidas track pants, white T-shirt, UVA pullover, and blue blazer (to keep it from wrinkling). A woman at the shuttle bus at BWI this morning gave me the once over and said, "that's a great travel look---a little formal, a little relaxed." I thanked her for her good taste (take that, Tigerhawk!)

The day started with a trip to the gym, which gives me an additional 375 calories to consume...and since I skipped breakfast, I just had a nice lunch (yep--in the Newark Airport) of chicken wings and lamb meatballs. I'm hoping to catch a little shuteye on the plane, though heading west in the daytime is generally not conducive to cutting z's.  I have the latest Foreign Affairs with me, and a 2002 biography of Ben Franklin that is moving along ploddingly. I am unsure of what the viewing fare is onboard,

Goodness--the woman just stood up to leave and demonstrated a full set of qualifications for the wearing of leather pants. Farewell, dear girl.

That's all for now--I hope to check in now and again.

On Campaign Finance

I had a discussion the other day with a good friend of mine who is a heavy hitter in the "centrist" Democrat realm, an official at a moderate, left of center think tank. We had this chat over lunch, and at one point, we began talking about campaign finance, mostly on the Presidential level. I repeated my standard, "unlimited contributions from individuals, with 100% transparency." In what in retrospect, I now see as a potentially brilliant codicil to this approach, he said, "sure--but every penny raised in a State has to be spent in that State".  I asked him to elaborate on this and here's what he said:

1.  It reinforces federalism, something the framers drove into the Constitution but which has been chipped away at over the past two centuries. That this would come from a committed Democrat was mind-bending and reassuring.

2.  He acknowledged the "free-speech" problems with this approach, but then offered that ALL campaign finance law abridges free speech in some ways, but this way does so less than others (at least in theory"

3.  His answer to the "rich guys buying elections" charge boils down to this: take whatever party's big dollar donor evil doer that you want--they get to spend the hell out of themselves--on activities in ONE STATE.  At most, they "buy" two Senators and one state for a President--if that's the way you want this to be viewed.  This means the Koch Brothers essentially could buy....Kansas.

There is much to be considered here.  What do you think about this?  I am really intrigued by it.

Why the Senate Should Not Confirm A Scalia Replacement

Antonin Scalia's death yesterday has thrown kerosene onto an already raging political fire associated with the ongoing Presidential nomination processes. Justice Scalia had barely begun repose before opinions began to fly about his replacement and or whether the Republican Senate would advance an Obama nomination.  I am of the opinion that both branches of government involved in this process should do their jobs. And by that, I mean the President should nominate a replacement when he has arrived at a suitable choice, and then the Senate should take up the nomination and consider it. That consideration certainly does not mean that Obama's choice should be confirmed. Nor does it mean that Obama's choice should even get a vote. It means that the Senate should do its job and consider the nomination.

There is all manner of discussion on the web about precedent for and against nominating and confirming. I urge you to read these discussions and reach your own decisions on whether they bear on the questions at hand. I personally give little weight to them, as I--like Scalia--am a bit of an originalist when it comes to the Constitution, and so it is here that I will look for my cues. So let us have a look at Article II, Section 2 Clause 2 of the Constitution of the United States of America:

"The President] shall nominate, and, by and with the Advice and Consent of the Senate, shall appoint Ambassadors, other public Ministers and Consuls, Judges of the supreme Court, and all other Officers of the United States, whose Appointments are not herein otherwise provided for, and which shall be established by Law: but the Congress may by Law vest the Appointment of such inferior Officers, as they think proper, in the President alone, in the Courts of Law, or in the Heads of Departments."

There are at least two important aspects to this clause. The first is that the clause specifically cites the process for replacing Supreme Court "judges"--in that the President "shall" nominate and "by and with the Advice and Consent of the Senate" they will be placed in office.  The second important aspect of this clause is that the framers clearly understood that there would be inferior "Officers" "as they think proper" that the President, the Courts of Law, or the Heads of Departments can appoint without Senate approval.

Why would they do this? They did this because they recognized that there was a matter of relative importance between and among the various officials that would be appointed by a President, and they placed Supreme Court vacancies in the category that created the highest burden, one of nomination AND confirmation.  I cite this as a method of indicating my sense that the framers considered these nominations to be of utmost importance.

Additionally, keep in mind that the framers chose that the "advice and consent" duty be assigned to the Senate, not the House. They saw the Senate as a place of deliberation, where the passions of the people as expressed in their representatives in the House would be cooled. The relative size of the bodies is immaterial in this choice; what was important was their view that the Senate (which was then made up of people appointed by the legislatures of the several states) would act in a manner so as to tamp down political passion in the hopes that better governance would result.

And so we find ourselves today with yet another example of the genius of our Founding Fathers. We are in the midst of a particularly passionate Presidential election, in which both parties are split and insurgent forces within each are threatening to bring forward candidates who dramatically challenge the status quo. Into this volatile mix enters the death of the single most important conservative jurist in our nation's history, with the responsibility of his replacement's nomination belonging to a decidedly non-conservative President. Additionally, 18 months ago, the American people dealt that President's power and authority a stunning blow by turning over control of the Senate to the nation's conservative leaning party. The court that the replacement will join is one that has been involved in ever-increasing political turmoil in the recent past.

If ever there were a time for the cooling, deliberate, consideration of the Senate, this is it. Clearly the Framers believed Supreme Court Nominees to be important enough for Congressional review. Clearly the Framers believed that Congressional review would be best accomplished in its more deliberative body, the Senate. And clearly--and this must not be forgotten--the Framers did not understand that review to be a rubber stamp--especially where explosive political issues are at stake.

A liberal President nominating to fill the vacancy of a conservative justice in the midst of an increasingly harsh political dynamic associated with a Presidential election--wherein the balance of the court that has existed to this point would be dramatically upended AS A POLITICAL MATTER--rises to the occasion of the kind of situation that calls for the deliberate political branch to exert its power and authority. And by this, I mean that if it as a body, believes that it is better to give the President's nominee a hearing and confirm this person, it should do that. If it believes that it is better to give the President's nominee a hearing and decline it, it should do that. And if it believes that it is better not to give the President's nominee a hearing at all, it should do that.

My guess is that the governing party in the Senate will not give the President's nominee a hearing, and that is ok. Additionally, if the President wishes to make a "recess appointment" to the Supreme Court--a highly controversial measure in and of itself--I would have no issue with this. Such a nominee would serve for a year and then would be replaced by a nominee of the next President.

We can spend all our time relitigating the past where judicial nominees of both parties were held up for extended periods of time in the Senate. Or we can relitigate instances in our history where circumstances resembling what we have today arise. In neither case will one be satisfied, because there are sins enough on both sides for which to be accounted.

Or we can do as I suggest...let the process play out as our Framers intended. What they did not intend was rubber stamping in the name of political expedience.

The Day After

When I went to sleep last night, I was in a foul temper, and I hoped that I would wake in the morning with less of it. This was a vain hope. I am sitting with Craig in his living room surveying the damage from Marco Rubio's performance last night, and it isn't pretty.

There were three really horrible things about his exchange with Christie. First, was the substance. What he said was absolutely correct. Barack Obama's actions as President are not born of his "inexperience"--they are born of his irresponsible desire to remake America. But the way he put it was too subtle, too nuanced, to unclear.  The second thing wrong with it was the repetition, as if repeating the same damn thing multiple times was going to clear it up. Finally--the repetition completely and utterly confirmed the charge that was being made against him in the first place, that he repeated talking points.

Such a missed opportunity. Rubio could have made his point more clearly. Then, he could have said, "Chris, how many times are we going to hear about you being a prosecutor? How many times are we going to hear your 9-11 tale? How many times are we going to hear your theory of Governors vs. Senators? Your entire line of attack here is a repetition of what you've been saying all week on the campaign trail--surprise, surprise, politicians repeat important messages."

So, I'm calling an audible today. I'm going to spend the day reading reaction and watching how Marco Rubio handles all of this. It is indisputable that he got his act together on the stage last night--his performance in the final 2/3 of the debate was up to his usual standards.  But today, I need to see him under pressure--how he reacts to a setback.  This is his Romney tax return 2012 moment--his Obama 2008 guns and clingers moment--I need to see how his campaign find a way to communicate their reaction.

Here is what I want to hear: "It clearly wasn't my finest moment. Chris is a skilled prosecutor--and someone I'd love to see as Attorney General. I knew the attack was coming and I simply overthought it. But the essential truth of what I was trying to say remains the same---our country is in the shape it is not because Barack Obama was inexperienced, but because he was successful in getting terrible policies passed in Congress and when he couldn't, through his unconstitutional use of Presidential Power. I hope the good people of New Hampshire will look past a regrettably human moment."

We'll see how it goes.

On Drafting Our Daughters

There is a good bit of chatter this morning about the question posed to Marco Rubio (and then several other candidates) as to whether registering for the draft should be something required of our 18 year old daughters as well as our sons. Apparently, much of conservative-world doesn't like the idea. My question however is, what would you have them say?

For much of the past ten years, most military occupations were open to women. In the Obama Administration, every single job has been opened. There are of course, official pronouncements of standards being protected, but just as predictable are the "studies" that attend this conversation with findings that the standards are somehow misaligned with the needs of the modern battlefield, etc. etc.

So...we have a military in which all jobs are open to both men and women. It is an all-volunteer force, but it is a gender neutral all volunteer force, primarily as a result of the pressure of interest groups to knock down barriers. Ok. They won. The barriers are gone.

So now what? We have a selective service system that enables a draft. It is not itself, a draft. It is a way of keeping track of those people eligible to serve in the military in time of great national emergency. As bad as things are, we are not now in a great national emergency. But if such a time comes--why wouldn't women be required to serve? Just because someone might not WANT to serve is insufficient reason to exclude them.

In order for a candidate to be consistent on the issue, he would have had to say "I think we have made a grave mistake in opening the combat arms to women. I think that the national security of the United States is diminished by this act. We should reverse it and return to the status quo ante, with women excluded from the combat arms." And while this may be an attractive proposition to some conservatives, it is electoral death. You simply cannot--as a political matter--put the toothpaste back in the tube without coming off as decidedly "anti-woman".

All of the candidates need to work on their answer to this question. They need to reassure Americans that the draft is a sign of intense trouble, and that we would all need to do our part--while simultaneously using the opportunity to reinforce the importance of the all volunteer force AND our great obligation to provide it with the best training and equipment in the world. Then, move on.

New Hampshire Bound!

I am sitting at the Southwest Terminal at BWI forty five minutes before boarding the plane to Manchester, NH. It looks like a relatively short flight, and the East Coast weather seems to be cooperating.

I arrive around 1145, will pick up my rental 4WD SUV, grab a bite of lunch and then head over to Rubio HQ to check in with the volunteer coordinators and get my assignment for the day.

I anticipate one of the following: call center duty, door to door canvassing, or general firefighting. I make this prediction based on zero real experience in this sort of thing. Four years ago, I helped out at Romney HQ in Des Moines, but he wasn't there, it wasn't a primary (the straw poll had just happened) and it wasn't all that interesting.

I figured that there would be some media folks and or other political types here in the the departure lounge, but I don't see anyone I recognize. There are a few hyped up college kids about, who I suspect are feeling the Bern.

This trip is a double pleasure, for in addition to the volunteering, I am bunking with my oldest Navy friend from actual active duty service. Craig was the First LT on my very first ship, and he had a year's experience on me--which at that point in a career, was the same as twenty. I knew nothing...he knew everything. His Boatswain's Mates idolized him, as did the other JO's. He opened up his home in Virginia Beach to me (he and his two roomies, who are to this day my second and third oldest friends in the Navy!

The schedule is very fluid--I'll slip out of HQ sometime later today to join Craig and his family for dinner, work all day Saturday and then do a National Review Party/Debate Watching event, and then work Sunday until the Super Bowl. Snow rolls in Monday and Tuesday, which is why I rented the beast of a vehicle that I did--perhaps I will be of more use once the weather comes.

Tuesday is game day, Tuesday night is the victory celebration, and then I fly home Wednesday afternoon. I will do my damnest to keep you--dear readers--well informed as to my thoughts and meandering travels.

Marcomentum! Donate to the CW Rubio for President Campaign

Friends--as you can see from the returns in Iowa last night--Marco Rubio's message of American greatness, core conservative values, and economic growth is resonating!  Things are going to get hot now as The Donald wakes to the Rubio challenge, while Jeb's superPac continues to pour good money after bad to try and take Marco down.

Please consider a donation to the Rubio for President Campaign!  Double click the Marco Rubio flier on the right side of the blog page and it will take you directly to where you can make an online donation.

It's time, folks!  Let's work hard to earn this nomination and then get onto the business of winning in November!


UPDATE: Well folks, we've raised $13,407 so far, way ahead of our Romney 2012 effort--and there's talk of a primary max donor out there ready to stroke a check. Remember, anything you can do helps!

Send in the Hammer

Not me but it's such a great photo I had to use it.

As you may have noticed I've been rather quiet of late and for good reason. I have entered the world of electoral politics. That's right friends, I have decided to martyr myself on the alter of democracy with nary a hope of gain or self aggrandizement...or victory for that matter. It's just sort of a bucket list thing, you know, like CW's obsession with funny hats. You don't why you do it, you just do it.

My campaign efforts have amounted to setting up a Facebook page and Twitter account and writing letters to the local fish-wrap. But I seem to be ruffling a few feathers as I dig deeper into the local's bidnez. As most of us here I take an interest in politics that is top down orientated. Ask me an opinion on a national issue and I'll drone on for hours (especially if I'm drunk). State politics? What Ronnie Van Zant said about love applies to what I know about state government "I know a little... and baby I can guess the rest". MAYBE I would add.

But LOCAL politics? I know NUTHING! I am learning though. You actually wouldn't believe it, well you might. I always knew the locals were gaming the system. I knew it but I figured it's small potatoes compared to the majors. But if you multiply this times a thousand, or more like a hundred thousand and well, one comes to realize that the majors ain't the majors. These local grifters are doing as much or even more damage that the big boys in DC.

Just by way of example, the amount of money some of these farmers get for doing jack-shit is really incredible. Around here there are a handful of big landowners and if you look at the USDA database they get get 80-90% of the farm handouts from the feds. Look back over twenty years and all the names are much the same. Look at the names and then look at the local politicians and they're all the same families. It's like the European aristocracy of old: oldest son gets the estate, middle son joins the military or goes into politics, youngest son goes in the clergy. Talk about establishment? Their tentacles are everywhere. Peel back the layers and start putting the puzzle pieces together and it's a little disconcerting no matter how cynical you may be.

Also another huge avenue for corruption is "economic incentives". We just had a situation where a European drug company got $150-$200 million dollars in tax relief and cash, and the deal was negotiated by the local "economic development board" and get this, the State Economic Developers Association. Two North Carolina entities were cutting deals with each other for the benefit of a Danish multinational. As the end of the day all sides were grinning like a mule eating briars. Somebody, everybody got a nice payday courtesy of the local tax base. The losers in this rigged game? The taxpayers of the State of North Carolina and the citizens of the county who will have higher taxes to make up for it all.

As you might imagine, putting me together with entrenched, bucktoothed knots-heads intent on keeping the cash flowing has turned into a somewhat volatile situation. But I am quickly becoming an underground celebrity. Here's an email I received today from an anonymous source.

You do realize the piece in the paper today by XXXXXX is a reflection of who XXXXXXX really is. XXXXXXX is as big of yellow dog Democrat as there is in the county. XXXXXXX continually affiliated himself with them all the time because he was a big D until it was politically smart to be a Republican in the county. All the Democrat mayors are for him as well. Keep pounding as the Panthers say. XXXXXX is bad news and you nailed him with the truth. Good luck and I will be voting for you.

There is stuff like this, so I'm not giving up. Plus I live for all this. I love going toe to toe with an arrogant dickhead. I love being underestimated. I LOVE it when some jerk who thinks I'm a bug on the wall gets his ass handed to him by little ole me! I adore it! It's like Ali standing over Sonny Liston or Namath running off the field holding up #1. It's a bunch of kids beating the Red Army team in 1980. It's the thrill, the rush, it's what Patton talked about "loving so" (at least in the movie). I'm having a lot of fun regardless of what happens. 

However, if I go missing or am killed by a robber in the parking lot of Wally World (or ABC Store) or struck by lightening, you'll know the reason why. For the record, CW I leave you my books and I leave your brother Jimbo my LP collection. Everybody needs a good copy of Second Helping.  

Leaving New Orleans at a Bad Time

I am sitting in the New Orleans airport, only minutes after having my fourth "TSA Pre is closed" security check in the last eight flights. Just what it is I paid for to receive is increasingly up for conjecture. There does appear to be some correlation between standard human meal times and the likelihood of closure, which seems to me--given that people fly during these times--that the staffing plan should account for this. I of course fired off a tweet to @TSA, and I imagine I will shortly wind up on the no-fly list.

I have been in New Orleans for a couple of days. Originally, this was a trip with two purposes. The first (and surviving) was to spend half a day with the Midshipmen of the Tulane University NROTC Unit at the invitation of their CO--CAPT Patrick Huete--shipmate from days gone by. This half day of labor (yesterday morning) was pure wonderfulness, as I got to talk to the future of the Navy about the future of the Navy. They had a lot of good questions, and I am satisfied the country remains in good hands. Here's a shot of the Battalion just before I began to talk.

The second reason I was here was to look in on a little investment I have in New Orleans, but the gent who runs it had some emergent travel and we weren't able to meet. However, our past meetings here had led to my discovery of a little Cajun/Soul Food gem called Lil Dizzy's Cafe, where I met another friend (DC transplant) for a ridiculous lunch.

What I've come to discover since arriving here is that my timing--as New Orleans goes, is horrible. Apparently, Carnival swings into gear TODAY, and from the looks of the folks arriving at the airport, there is a festive mood awakening. I am not yet sold in New Orleans, though it is growing on me. I don't think I could ever get into Mardi Gras much, as I don't drink and this seems an essential part of the thrill. The other part though, is to actually belong to a "Krewe", which is from what I can tell, a rather exclusive club. Many Krewe's are ancient generational, and they march in particular parades on certain days. All of this I think, becomes far more important to one who grows up bathed in the pageantry. My boy Patrick has pushed New Orleans for as long as I've known him. Being here with him--the town he has come home to--was a great experience. We were talking in the car on the way to dinner Wednesday night (Crescent City Steaks) about how when you ask someone in New Orleans where they went to school, the answer is your high school. No one cares where you went to college--but your high school is destiny. As soon as we walked into the restaurant, standing there at the bar was a dude Patrick recognized from his high school, a year senior. A few members of the class were gathering for dinner to discuss the year end of their annual charity project, in which they provide hundreds of Turkeys to needy New Orleans families. A handful of dudes strolled in and Patrick knew them all.

I have no place like this. I think having one would be nice--but I don't think I require it. Perhaps I'm just not that social.

Your next trip, stay at Le Pavillon Hotel. It is haunted, and it serves a PB&J bar (I declined) at 2200 hrs. each night. It is a grand hotel, wonderfully appointed, unbelievably comfy beds, and reasonably priced.

On the Great Eastern Blizzard of 2016

In Dr. Stewart's "Physics of the Atmosphere" class in college (I think that is what it was called--he was an old bull in the physics department who had an interest in weather, and so he called what was essentially a meteorology class "physics") we were all charged with a fifteen page paper, and I chose to write on the subject of "Great Eastern American Snowstorms", one of which included Thomas Jefferson's wedding night blizzard in 1772 (I think was the year).  Apparently, nearly three feet fell in that great storm. Of note, Kurt Schick (funniest dude at UVA at the time) wrote a paper called "A Case of the Winds", a title that still makes me giggle, my potty humor fancy tickled. I wonder whether this storm will come to be included in some future writer's rundown.

All four of us are here, hunkered down on the farm, as it is "post-exams winter break" at school for Kitten #2. We are well prepared for things, what with a full larder, warm clothes, and for the time being, the means to binge watch various things on TV. I cooked the hungry Kittens an 8 pound oven stuffer roaster last night, and that bird was indeed tasty. It's leavings-along with a sacrificial rotisserie bird from Giant--were turned into The Kitten's famous chicken stew last night whilst we watched a movie.  Pretty homey little scene.

As I was saying, we are well prepared. For what, you may ask?  To sit around in a warm house and not interact with the elements in any way, shape or form until they have begun to behave themselves. I truly have no real need to drive my car until Wednesday, at which point the higher temps would have served to melt much of the snow. But--no plan survives contact with the enemy.

You see, just across the farm is the home of The Kitten's mother--and she has three wild Labrabeasts that she pays some dude to watch for her while she is gone--and she is in South Carolina for an extended period. That dude and The Kitten spoke yesterday, and it seems the care and feeding of these animals passed unto her in preparation for the coming storm. I knew this, as she last night assigned each of the Kittens to be her companion on these outings in the AM and PM. And so, after awaking and a bit of coffee, The Kitten began the elaborate ritual of robing for the elements, to include several trips back and forth in front of me as I sat on the couch rattling away at my laptop in PJ's and warm slippers. You know. Executing the plan AS FRAGGED.

Just after they left, a debate began raging on Facebook after a friend asked the logical question of when to shovel--now or when it is all done. Of course I had already made that decision, but was unnerved when friends whose judgment I trust--one of whom used to be a CANADIAN for Chrissake--advocated the little bit at a time method. Added to this discontinuous signalling was of course, the growing sense of guilt that my woman was out braving the elements whilst I farted around on Facebook. And so, killing two birds with one stone, I took to the stoops with my trusty shovel and began to clear one-shovel wide paths. Truth be told, I felt exhilarated by the process--I was bundled up warm and the snow was an easy shovel. I believe the Kitten was so flabbergasted at seeing me so engaged, that she stopped at the end of the driveway to capture the moment on pixels.

I will venture out again before the sun sets to hit the stoops once more. But in the meantime, I shall sit here on the couch in my bedroom and enjoy the toasty warmth of the pound of flesh taken out of me in  renovating this house five years ago. It really is a wonderful place to live--especially when the wind is howling and the snow falls east/west.

Some Navy Religion for the People

Not all of you like when I post Navy stuff here, but some do--especially my Dad. So this is for him. It is a panel discussion I participated in that the Surface Navy Association Symposium last week.

Thoughts On the Navy Crews Taken by the Iranians

I've been asked by a few of you to provide some thoughts on what happened in the Arabian Gulf the other day. I began to write something, and then saw this piece by my friend at Information Dissemination--and while I don't agree completely with all of it, I do agree with most of it. And so I have cut and pasted it below into this entry, with my own comments interspersed in bold italics.

------------------------------

Thoughts on the Farsi Island Incident January 12 by Galrahn

By now most of you have heard the news of the initial incident and have read several details of the incident that have been reported in the press. The bottom line, there are still a lot of unknowns even as the incident was resolved diplomatically within 24 hours. Below are a few thoughts.

1) Even 48 hours after the initial incident it doesn't even appear CENTCOM or the Pentagon has a full accounting of the details of exactly what happened. People who have been telling the narrative since the incident first occurred are sure to be proven wrong, since they have almost certainly been guessing as to causes and motives. In the end, it is starting to look to be exactly what it looks like... a bunch of young sailors lost because of reliance on technology and/or machinery that failed. There is also, potentially, a training issue here related to navigation and leadership.

Couldn't agree more. When the incident was first reported, I was asked by a number of different entities to comment. I hesitated to speculate beyond indicating what I knew from dated experience. We observe their territorial standoffs meticulously, and they enforce them meticulously.  I could see no profit for the Iranians in seizing our boats/crews unless they had stumbled into Iranian waters. Note I'm not supporting what Iran did or saying that it was professional or legal. Simply that this was to me, the most likely scenario.

2) Those who are claiming the US Navy should have shot their way out of the standoff - when it appears the US Navy sailors actually involved appeared to have convinced themselves their ships were inside Iranian waters - make very interesting and yet terrible arguments for shooting at Iranians. Farsi Island may be a disputed Island in the Persian Gulf, but there is an IRGC naval base on that island and presence in the first rule of ownership. If the Iranian Navy, or Russian Navy, or any Navy drifted armed boats into US waters off Kings Bay, I suspect the US Coast Guard and/or US Navy would be very quick to point guns and be active in detaining the drifters.

Again, agreed. We are not at war with Iran, and it was plausible that those crews KNEW they had made this mistake. Additionally, as is stated above, there is an Iranian base at Farsi. My suspicion is that there was a firepower differential on the scene. 

3) I am unable to see any strategic advantage the US would have gained by fighting Iran inside the 3 mile zone of Iranian territory, and I am unable to see any strategic consequence to the US by not fighting Iran inside the 3 mile zone of Iranian territory. However, had the US Navy tried to shoot their way out of that situation, the strategic consequences would have been significant, and not just how it relates to Iran. Such a violent action would have given China a valid example to act the same way in disputed places in the South China Sea. If the US Navy is going to lead the global commons based on our interpretation of the rules at sea, the LT who apologized (and everyone on the political right is flogging) just forwarded America strategically. I note it is primarily the parochial arguments from people whose expertise lies in other military services like the Army who have completely ignored the details like global rule sets at sea who have been the loudest to shout at the Navy in this incident. With all due respect, this is an incredibly parochial and shortsided overreaction of the incident, because the National Review can and should do better than finding an Army guy - Bing West (whom I know and respect but wtf...) when it comes to a complex naval incident. This isn't the Pueblo, nor is it the Korean War. There will be no museum in Iran, and both the boats and the crews were returned.

Here is where I disagree with my friend. While I certainly do not believe the Lieutenant should be "flogged" by people on the right or anywhere else for that matter, his onscreen apology was imprudent. Note again, I did not say a violation of the code of conduct--as the code of conduct applies to when we are held as prisoners of war--which he and they knew they were not. But--he should not have said what he did--no matter how true it was. The only acceptable (to me) explanation for his conduct would have been if he had received ORDERS from higher headquarters as this thing went down, to make an apology. 

4) This is one of those difficult issues that, in my mind, separates serious people who care about serious strategic issues the US faces in the 21st century and demagogues who see conspiracy and opportunity in every political crisis. If you are a partisan who sees a conspiracy, go away. For the rest of us, there are serious naval issues here that need serious answers. These are a few of the initial questions that should be considered.

- Is the maintenance of the riverine command boats contracted to the point the onboard crew was unable to repair the problem? The crew of only 5 sailors per boat suggests to me that something might be off with the manpower and maintenance procedures surrounding these very capable chess pieces of naval equipment. The RCB is made to fight in the Persian Gulf, but a broken RCB isn't going to win.

 - This is a teaching moment if there ever was one, and as an incident this appears to represent a textbook case study on the reasons why the Navy needs more, not fewer, Commands for junior officers. It may be the opinion of some hard core political demagogues who have over a decade of tactical success combined with over a decade of strategic failure that this incident is somehow a defeat for America, but each new fact that emerges from this incident suggests to me this may be a case of procedural failure far beyond the scope of a LT... but when shit happened, strategic acumen by the officer in charge (LT) is potentially emerging as a feature in handling a bad situation and not making it worse. The facts are still unknown, and we may not know for sure for awhile, but regardless of what the facts are in the end I see this as a very teachable moment that favors the argument for early Command as often as possible for junior officers.

- I have no problem with high profile diplomatic incidents like this between the US Navy and Iran, as long as for each incident the actions of the US Navy is aligned with the strategic aims of the United States. If the US Navy had attacked the IRGC inside the territorial waters of Farsi Island to defend their boats, this would be a major strategic setback for the US. Had the incident occurred outside the territorial waters of Iran and the US Navy not fought back; that would also be a strategic setback for the US. Right now it appears the US Navy sailors on the scene did everything right.

- The only way to produce a genuine strategic failure from this incident is to unfairly punish those involved, in other words... if the Navy wants better commanders, handle early career mistakes the right way. Tell me how any of those 10 sailors are somehow worse off for this incident. If legitimate mistakes were made, deal with it appropriately, but pinning blame for things out of their control would be a failure of leadership, and in my mind an unforgivable sin.

- At the end of the day, this was a real diplomatic test of the US and Iran who under the recent agreement are partners in Iran's nuclear energy ambitions. The outcome is very positive for the United States. I don't trust the government of Iran, but I am yet to see anything from this incident that suggests to me Iran has has been inappropriate. If you're the American Idiot who doesn't think it was appropriate for the US Navy sailors to have their hands on their heads at any point in the engagement near the IRGC base on Farsi Island, try drifting your private armed boat into the US Navy area of Kings Bay or Norfolk or New London and pretend like there is a snowballs chance in hell you will get out of there without your hands on your head. You will have your hands on your head, or if you point a gun back at the US Navy or US Coast Guard, you will be shot dead by very serious people who protect that location and will be pointing guns at you. You don't even have to be an Iranian for that outcome to occur, nor will you need an Iranian flag on your boat, a US flag will result in the same action. Wake up people, don't let the silly season control your ability to think with objectivity.

It is entirely plausible to me that the recent deal with the Iranians and the familiarity it bred among negotiators aided in the relatively quick release of our Sailors. One would be ignorant not to at least consider this. But--one should also consider the possibility that the negotiation bred a familiarity that we did not bargain for, that we had been measured and found wanting. That the Iranians believed that they could do this with little or no fallout, and that their position as a power in the Arabian Gulf would be improved by taking us on. It would be just as ignorant not to consider this possibility, and others for that matter. 

As for the Sailors on their knees and the female in hijab, the bottom line for me is that when rough men with guns are pointing them at you, in virtually all cases you do what you are told. 

I look forward to learning what really happened, because at the end of the day we have a well armed naval craft in the middle of the Persian Gulf with a serious mechanical problem that couldn't be quickly resolved apparently combined with some incredibly bad navigation from two crews who somehow found their way to the only piece of land between their departure location and destination that could create a diplomatic problem. When you swim past all the political bullshit, the serious naval specific issues on the table leave a lot of serious questions that deserve serious answers.

What my friend describes as "political bullshit" I am not as quick to dismiss. It is difficult for me to separate Iran's willingness to tweak us, their willingness to fire rockets in the vicinity of our aircraft carrier--with their sense that these actions would be impact free, born of a lack of regard for our power. There are serious "naval" issues here of course--but there are also serious political ones--and in the end, the two will almost certainly be related.

So, Who's Next?

Well well well, what have we here? You know I could crow about how I was saying a year ago Hillary would NOT be the nominee, but I'd be an asshole (well, MORE of an asshole). But I did, right up until Bernie gave her a pass on the emails and then I thought it was a cruise on home situation. And she may still win, but whoa Nellie, things are looking very shaky indeed over at the Clitoris Foundation.

Yep, it looks like to me Hillary could lose Iowa and almost certainly WILL lose New Hampshire. She may could survive New Hampshire but if she loses both then BIG MO comes into play and all you'll hear is 08 this and 08 that. Who can we thank for Hillary's troubles? Who else, The Donald.

Say what you will (and you will) Trump is running circles around all these "PROS". He beats up on Jeb like it was fun (it may be) and he laid a trap for the World's Smartest Woman and she fell for it hook, line and schlong. He took down Bill Clinton like HE took down Juanita Broderick and didn't even have the damn common courtesy to say "put some ice on that". As a result Hillary's numbers among the all important white chick demo has collapsed. Oh my! I'm telling you, the Clintons ain't what they used to be. Bill looks like total shit and has the stage presence of a cadaver and Hillary is all doddery with a grandma vibe. I expect her to walk on stage one day farting with every step. Regardless of who wins on the Republican side, Hillary's ass is grass assuming she does indeed hold on.

A young, sharp politician like CW's pin-up boy Marco Rubio would destroy her just with the optics. Ted Cruz would cut her up. Trump would make a laughing stock of her and have her melting under the lights like a bowl of Ben & Jerry's Schweddy Balls. All thanks to THE DONALD!

But if Hill & Bill do crash and burn (through politics or indictment) who then will fill the void? Please don't say Bernie, even the Democrats ain't crazy enough to run a guy who doesn't even have the brains to hide the fact he's a damn commie. He's out for a hundred reasons. Biden? Possibly. I talked about just such a scenario a few months back on this very rag of a blog. I've heard Al Gore, which I find hilarious. Run Al run! And if Al indeed CAN run more than say...50 feet, we'll give it to you by default. Elizabeth Warren? Possibly. And now we come to a guy who is slick enough to win, Martin O'Malley. I know, unlikely in the extreme. I don't disagree. But I've told you before and I'll tell you again, he's the best politician in the bunch, maybe even on both sides.

A Hostile Takeover!

I read with a combination of amusement and bemusement a NY Times piece this morning on the fix the Republican Party establishment finds themselves in. Unlike much of the Times political reporting this one rang true. The Old Grey Bitch is still worth reading, sometimes, I guess. But there are a few quotes I wanted to share and comment on.

The first from ex-George I Attorney General Dick Thornburgh “I know Republicans who will support Hillary if Trump or Cruz is the nominee, no question.” That's nice, an absolutely brilliant strategy and the picture of maturity. If I'm reading this right (help me out here CW) the plebeians who put Richard Nixon in office along with both Bushs and contributed/volunteered/voted for Bob Dole, John McCain and Mitt Romney are now looked upon as uppity house negros and therefore Hillary is more acceptable! So this is the 2016 Republican Party? Not the Party of RR but the Party of David Frum, Rick Wilson and David Brooks. The Party that excludes (unless you're Hispanic), has forgotten family values (for God's sake, don't talk about abortion!) and fiscal responsibility (we had no choice, the Omnibus was a done deal). No, can't make those mistakes again, that's in the past. Now we are the Party of hedge fund managers and K Street. The Party of the successful, i.e. those who work both sides of the aisle and (wait for it) hedge their bets. People who have a pay-for-play mentality with no morals, no ideology apart from expediency and narrow self-interest, people who will bolt in a heartbeat if they don't see a return on their "investment". The money-changers who care not one iota for America or Americans because hey, we've gone GLOBAL! They run the Party now?

“I haven’t seen this large of a division in my career,” said Senator John McCain. McCain goes on to say maybe Reagan/Ford in '76 was similar. To which I say, NO SHIT!? How about the exact same thing? But then again at least there was some attempt at reconciliation. Ford dumped Nelson "Hold on baby I'm getting chest pains" Rockefeller who was completely unacceptable to conservatives in favor of Bob Dole (Jeez, what's the diff?) and Reagan took the unprecedented step of naming his VP prior to the convention vote (in case you're wondering it was Senator Richard Schweiker from Pennsylvania, a real weenie). Now we get nothing. Apparently both sides want to kill each other. Which brings me to the last quote.

“The Republican Party has never done anything for the working man like me, even though we’ve voted Republican for years,” said Leo Martin, a 62-year-old machinist from Newport, N.H., who attended Mr. Trump’s Claremont rally. “This election is the first in my life where we can change what it means to be a Republican.”  Hold the phone! Change what it means to be a Republican? Is that what this guy said? Establishment Republicans have no problem changing, let's say what it means to be an American. But to change what it means to be a Republican? You just better wait just a God-damn minute. The establishment types think they own the joint. THEY decide who is and who isn't a Republican, not a bunch of stump-jumpers out in fly-over country. This is unacceptable! Who will guarantee our trade deals? Who will look out for our stock portfolios? Who will bail out the bankers who bailed out the industries that bailed on America? My God this is like a hostile takeover and we can't have it. Best put our resources behind Hillary and we'll get 'em next time.

...and you guys wonder how all this could be happening.

Tea Party Gets Victory It Sought, Moves Goalposts

Republicans in both the House and Senate have delivered unto the Tea Party a victory for which they have clamored, and that is legislation repealing Obamacare. One would think that they would be dancing in the streets, as for a long time, their response to the "but the Democrats hold the White House, numbers don't lie, the President will veto it and we'll be right back where we started" with the strategically inept "So what. We want to see that those RINOS are fighting for us. Make him veto a hundred bills." And so that's what they did, with Speaker Ryan delivering the House yesterday. Are they happy with getting exactly what they asked for.

No, of course.

What we NOW hear from the Tea Party (in the House--the "Freedom Caucus") and its adherents are cries akin to the Lost Cause rhetoric of the South--the "we shoulda" school of politics which states that this legislation is bogus, and that the GOP leadership should have taken the President to the brink on shutting down the government. This is silly, of course. While I believe the degree to which Republicans have suffered as a result of past shutdowns is way overblown (I'm not sure the 2014 shutdown hurt much at all), there is no question in my mind that shutting down the government HELPS the President. He tends to look concerned and in charge and responsible, while the Republicans look like reactionaries and swivel eyed loons. Don't get me wrong; there's a part of me that emotionally would have liked to see the government shut down for a couple of weeks in order to make a point. But anyone who believes that such a tactic would ultimately have led to victory on the issues is mistaken. What Ryan and McConnell have done here is a reasonable needle-threading, one that makes every member of both chambers render their support for or objection to Obamacare in an important vote as the 2016 elections approach. They did not burn their ships on the beach, but that's not what responsible Generals do.

The Official TigerHawk Predictions for 2016

We're not sure what the rules are, but predictions seem to be a "thing" around here. Well, here are a few, audacious and otherwise, verifiable, or not, wishful thinking, or not.

1. Marco Rubio will win the Republican nomination for president, and become the first actually young GOP nominee since Thomas E. Dewey in 1944 [Corrected per comments below], beyond the memory of virtually all living Americans. The era of pharty old dudes will come to an end, for better or for worse. Youth has the potential to matter a lot, because legal weed initiatives will drive the youth-social libertarian turnout in several key states. See #13 below.

2. The Iowa Hawkeyes will win the Rose Bowl this afternoon, but will not cover the spread (now standing at 6 points). Note that the shelf life of this prediction is about 9 hours.

3. UVA won't do any of that stuff CW predicts, even if it would make the TigerHawk nephews very happy.

4. Barack Obama will "use his pen" to issue an executive order on guns, and it will cost the Democrats at least one swing state: Colorado, Wisconsin, or Pennsylvania.

5. I will weigh not more than 205 pounds on December 31, 2016 (202 today).

6. Against expectations, Ted Cruz will campaign aggressively and positively for the GOP nominee (even if #1 is wrong), he will mend as many fences with Republican Senators as possible, and will be on the short list for Attorney General if the Republicans win in November. Once they wake up and realize Cruz's true talent, conservatives will want to put him in a position for eventual nomination to the SCOTUS when Antonin Scalia retires.

7. ISIS will be substantially weaker by the end of the year, and may even recede as a GOP talking point by Labor Day.

8. Barack Obama will not be invited to campaign for the Democratic nominee, who will probably be Hillary Clinton, with the possible exception of events devised to promote African-American turnout.

9. Nobody will "steal" the presidential election, just as nobody has done in the history of the United States (no, not in 1960 or 2000, either).

10. Immigration, legal and otherwise, will continue to be a huge issue in the general election, and the Democratic nominee will visibly tack to the center. Pundits will agree that Donald Trump gets the credit or the blame for this, but news of the migration crisis in Europe will make even American liberals pause.

11. Donald Trump will neither win the nomination nor run as an independent, but he will suck up a "huge" amount of air time at the Republican convention and have a "huge" impact on the platform, such as it is. He will not campaign for the GOP nominee, and will say things during the general election that the Republicans will have to delicately disavow.

12. The Dow Jones Industrial Average will crack 20,000 during the year, but close below. Oil prices will continue to languish.

13. The legal weed movement will hit a tipping point in 2016, with blue, purple and even red states in the mix. This will drive turnout among the young social libertarians, including in must-win Ohio and swinger Nevada. Not only will this force the GOP nominee to take a dovish position on weed, but it will drive social conservative issues (which are unpopular among millennials) in to the background no matter who the Republican candidate is.

14. The inequality issue will continue to loom large (as it should). Because the weed-driven youth turnout will be a huge wild card, the Republicans will emphasize "opportunity" rather than tax cutting in their rhetoric. This will be especially important and especially likely if Rubio is at the top of the ticket.

15. Hillary Clinton will not be indicted in 2016. CW is a year early on this one. However, if Ted Cruz realizes my aspirations for him and becomes Attorney General in 2017, look out!

Of course, your results may vary.