A Head Full of Ideas that were Driving Me Insane....

There's a certain amount of poetry in reading both of these news stories on the same day:

E. Howard Hunt, mastermind of Watergate break-in, dies at 88

and

Prosecutors, defense attorneys both implicate White House in opening statements at Scooter Libby trial

Hunt was one of many in that White House who had a thing about using their real first names: E. (for Everette) Howard Hunt, G. (for George) Gordon Liddy, H.R. (for Harry Robbins) Haldeman, and even the top guy, R.M. (for Really Mangled) Dick Nixon. Hunt wasn't at the Watergate on that fateful June night, but if he hadn't been involved in the scheme, Woodward and Bernstein probably would never have followed the story. They were the ones who noticed Hunt's name in the phone book of one of the burglars, with the abbreviation "W. House" conveniently scribbed next to it. (Note: current CIA protocol discourages operatives from carrying such items on their person, except in cases of frame-up jobs.)

Oh, and the local paper isn't up online yet, but I'm betting money it will mention in the first two paragraphs of the obituary that Hunt was born in the suburban Buffalo town of Hamburg. Because that's what tacky hometown newspapers do, as with this famous headline from the National Lampoon Sunday newspaper parody:

Two Dacron Women Feared Missing in Volcanic Disaster
Japan Destroyed

----

Not much has changed in the ensuing 35 years, from Liddy to Liddy (Dole) to Libby. Only the faces change, and even many of those don't: Cheney. Rummy. Even Colin Powell. And of course, Bush Daddy. All served at the right hand of Dick the President Almighty and all lived on to serve the current Resident in the next century, even while Nixon himself is down in hell keeping my room warm for me.

[we interrupt this entry for the posting of the first two paragraphs of the Hunt obituary:
 MIAMI - E. Howard Hunt, who helped organize the 1972 Watergate break-in, leading to the greatest scandal in American political history and the downfall of Richard M. Nixon's presidency, died Tuesday. He was 88.

Mr. Hunt, a native of Hamburg, N.Y., died in a Miami hospital after a lengthy bout with pneumonia, according to his son Austin Hunt.

Win.]

The game's still the same when you go to Washington. It's not to do the peoples' business, but to make a business out of doing the people. And lest this come across as one of my typical anti-Bush morning screes, I assure you I am not giving my own party a pass, either. My lifetime has seen twelve presidential elections go by, and eight presidents come out of them (or in one case, between them). This showcasing of the brightest and the best, in seeking and gaining the most important single job on the planet, has thus far produced the following:

One (1) philanderer with questionable judgment in foreign affairs;
One (1) power-mad redneck who managed in four short years to go from Biggest Mandate Evah to becoming unelectable;
Nixon (he's like Cher- one word is pretty much all you need);
One (1) genuinely decent man, who never stood a chance of getting anything done in an opposed political climate with crippling changes in the realities of the politics of oil;
Make that two (2) decent men, for Carter pretty much fell down (if not literally) in the same ways and for the same reasons;
One (1) tired old man that we elected King (twice);
One (1) old Nixon-era hack who would have lost to None Of The Above in a fair fight but who, fortunately for him, was instead running against Dukakis;
One (1) even worse philanderer than the first one, and one of the two most disgraced presidents in our history, now possibly to be rewarded by a second eight-year term in the White House;
And One (1) who seems capable of bringing back nostalgia for even Nixon.

There's a fairly famous Defining Moment in the world of New York sports, where, during the final home game of yet another disappointing football season, some fans of the New York Giants actually rented an airplane to display their disappointment on a banner flown behind it over the stadium. I feel much the same way about the work of this nation's presidential scouting department, and as the Usual Suspects all begin their runs now, at least a year too early, I would like nothing more than to fly a banner over the White House (or even better, over K Street, where the lobbyists all are) reading

48 YEARS OF LOUSY PRESIDENTS
WE'VE HAD ENOUGH!!

(So is it any surprise that the court went on in Rule 7 to say, "No pooftahs"?)

I would have supported an explicit right of any two people, not otherwise disqualified by current marital or imprisonment status, to marry, divorce or even root for the Yankees, however morally reprehensible THAT would be. It would have been far more satisfying than the court somehow cobbling such a right out of the state constitutional prohibition on imposing tolls on state canals.  Now the chances of a reconsideration of the whole shebang is off until 2017. To parahprase Radar O'Reilly: I'll be 58 years old. That's practically dead!