To The Left: Shut Up And Take It With A Smile

How tiresome so see the same coterie of wet behind the ears Leftist bloggers-activists-shills-pundits parade their broken hearts on Hardball, Shuster, Rachel Maddow, Cooper, etc., etc. Oh, to have a crush cruelly stomped on so soon. ‘He’s just not the same guy who sat next to us in art class !” Can you feel their pain?

Naturally, these wounded souls carefully parse their words with carve outs, equivocations with — well — Clintonian precision. Who can blame them? They may be crying on the inside. But hey, they finally made it to the green room! And who knew that in all those years of near libeling Joe Klein he actually tells killer George Stephanopoulos jokes? Joe’s not so bad, really. And did you hear what he said about Meacham? Got to stay in the rolodex now!

But still. The sorrow on camera is all in the eyes. Please pass the chocolates.



Don’t get us wrong, Dear Reader. We, too, are underwhelmed at the Boy King’s cavalcade of mediocre establishment weenies. The plus side? They aren’t simply Republican puppets dangling on the Movement’s strings chasing a malevolent agenda. For us, that’s change we can embrace — with thanks.

But for those gnashing teeth and pulling hair at the FlamingParakeetPuddles.coms of the universe (who somehow think 3 or 4 years of blogging make them persons of *substance* — and know the Stiftung not infrequently agrees with those blogging at these places), et al. face the facts: you were and remain still in many ways neophytes and Not Ready For Primetime Against The Fallen Movement (MSNBCNN greenrooms aside). Or even primetime against permanent government inertia. Much less dare we say it Chicago pros?

A crush is precisely that: an immature infatuation. In the obscene rush to deify a two year U.S. Senator with scant achievement other than let’s call it for what it is — ambition — they shoveled all sorts of absurdities onto the political compost heap; he is Lincoln; no, wait, he is Kennedy without the pro-Nazi father thing; but with the economy, he’s FDR except he’s trying to quit smoking (would someone just tell Jonathan Alter to STFU about his book?).

The Progressives and Left in general do not know how to organize still. Tossing out the Warlord in these circumstances is not a heroic trial of fire. What they did not grok and are only belatedly realizing is that they were used. They gave adoration. They gave of themselves. They gave money and hope. All of which means squat November 5th.

They did not lock the Boy King in. This is political 101 that Morton Blackwell used to teach college cadres. Consider Grover, for example. Those tax pledges may seem so many pieces of ink jet piffle to the Left, but they assume powerful tectonic political *fact*. One could go on. What precisely did the Left and Progressives do to concretize an agenda and wedge the Boy King? Nada. How . . . frappuccino.

Amusingly, Pat Buchanan remains still far more interesting than the whiny Left. (Please God spare us from four years of David Corn or Peter Beinart as the Go To guys for MSNBCNN; can’t producers get with the whole change thing and expand their rolodexes? To that extent we do welcome the newly ‘discovered’ blogger-activist voices). As you probably know, Pat advances the theory that the milquetoasts, lobbyists and right of center apparatchiks around the Boy King are mere smokescreen. They, in Pat’s view, provide the ‘establishmentarian’ facade enabling the Boy King behind the scenes to channel Saul Alinsky.

Odd how Pat is probably the Left and Progressives’ best hope right now albeit for different agenda purposes. We all revel in the Movement’s overthrow and disarray. But one just has a desire to reach through the screen (computer and HiDef TV) and smack the Left and Progressives silly. Grow up. You climbed in the sandbox to play for the highest stakes. It’s a little late to whine you forgot to bring toys.