Things they never write about dead liberals

If tomorrow Eleanor Clift were run down by a bus while crossing K Street -- perish the thought! -- her obituary would not include this sentence:

Though known as a liberal, Clift developed relationships with folks on both sides of the aisle and had sources everywhere.

And yet Lynn Sweet, who proudly counts the departed Robert Novak as a colleague, feels compelled to write this about him:

Though known as a conservative, Novak developed relationships with folks on both sides of the aisle and had sources everywhere.

Why? Are conservative journalists so notoriously partisan in their friendships as to eschew all social interaction with liberals? Was this the habit of, inter alia, William F. Buckley Jr.? Indeed, no, as one of Buckley's best friends was the notoriously wrongheaded liberal economist John Kenneth Galbraith.

So then, as we might more readily believe, is Sweet's telltale sentence yet another case of liberals projecting their own faults on the demonized Other? That is to say -- and I'll drop the just-asking-questions mode to say it directly -- liberal journalists notoriously ostracize any member of their profession who fails to embrace the appropriate ideology. In fact, this habit is not limited to liberal journalists merely, but rather is common among liberals everywhere, who treat conservatism as a sort of moral failing that makes the right-winger socially unacceptable.

For example, you should have seen the fear in the eyes of a certain young Democratic congressional staffer when, a couple of Fridays ago, I spotted her at the Union Pub and approached her cordially as if she were my dearest friend in the world.

Oh, I understand, sweetheart. You don't want your friends to start wondering if you've been accidentally disclosing facts to a conservative reporter. But a good reporter never burns his sources, so far be it from me to suggest that you had anything to do with this little nugget, or that you told me anything useful to my 3,000-word IG-Gate story in the September issue of The American Spectator.

So my dear Democratic friend who is not -- repeat, is not -- leaking sensitive inside information to me, please don't panic when, later this week, I drop by your office to hand you a newly-printed copy of the September issue and thank you for your non-cooperation.

Explain it however you want, darling, but if I get hit by a bus, don't tell anybody that I had "relationships with folks on both sides of the aisle."

"Plausible deniability." IYKWIMAITYD.

Iowahawk Car Porn

by Smitty

When not lighting up the tubey-webs with blistering satire, Iowahawk so often indulges a motor fetish. This particular roundup does include a Red Barchetta, which affords one the opportunity to brush the plush Rush crush:

However, Stacy has some objection to a band who'd simulate a wild ride in a car so directly in a song, omitting the blues he seems to consider essential. No, I don't get it, either.

In the name of blog tranquility, we'll lay down something topical, bluesy, and car-centric:

I should probably not mention my (admittedly brief) experience as a music promoter. My big idea was to have Rush and ZZ-Top on tour--performing each others' material.

Nobody likes my ideas.

'Journalism Through Whiskey'

Not every day I'm quoted by The Economist:

Mr Novak, who died today at age 78, helped invent modern political reporting. He grew up in Illinois and climbed to better and better jobs as "shoe leather" reporters in the sleepy state capitols of Nebraska and Indiana. As one admirer put it today, Mr Novak practicised "journalism through whiskey", befriending and socialising with sources, worrying less about sensational on-the-record quotes than finding out what these people, with their hands on the public treasury, really thought. It resembled British reporting more than the high-minded, Walter Lippman-worshipping "objective" reporting that dominated coverage in America.

Just had a long conversation with Joe Marier, in which I pointed out that Novak and Pat Buchanan were personal friends, and that Buchanan had (obviously) been one of Novak's sources in the Nixon and Reagan administrations. So when David Frum attacked Novak as "unpatriotic" for siding with Buchanan in opposition to the Bush administration's Iraq policy, it was not merely a policy dispute.

A Washington journalist needs sources, including sources he may disagree with politically, and if Sidney Blumenthal invited me to lunch tomorrow, I'd accept the invitation, assuming that Team Hillary had some really good anti-Obama dirt they wanted to inject into the media via the VRWC. (Trust me, Sid: No fingerprints, IYKWIMAITYD.)

Sometimes your sources become your friends. And when your sources and friends are at war with one another, calling each other the nastiest names they can think of, this is painful for a professional practicioner of neutral objectivity like me.

Speaking of "journalism through whiskey," there will be a 7 p.m. Happy Hour event Thursday at the Continental Lounge in Rosslyn, Va. -- just across the Potomac from D.C. -- and if you haven't been personally invited, feel free to show up anyway.

Bloggers, journalists, fat cats, bigwigs, congressional staffers, congressional mistresses, lobbyists, interns, hookers, policy wonks, oppo researchers, "senior administration officials," two-faced backstabbing GOP political operatives -- everyone should consider themselves invited.

Except my creditors. If I owe you money, you are specifically not invited. That would not be ethical.

Also: I don't drink whiskey. I had a traumatic experience at a Christmas party about 10 years ago, and had to part ways with my old buddy Mr. Jack Daniels.

Rose Friedman, R.I.P.

First Novak, and now Milton Friedman's widow, too:

Rose Director Friedman passed away Tuesday, August 18, 2009, in her home in Davis, California, of heart failure. While the exact date of her birth is uncertain, she is believed to have been 98 years old . . .

Brian Doherty has a tribute at Reason magazine. More blog reaction at Memeorandum. Our world is now much poorer for the departure of such giants, on whose shoulders we aspire to stand. Let us hope to be worthy of their rich legacy.

Novak vs. Frum, Levin vs. Frum, and Casualties of Rhetorical Combat

Today's news about the death of Robert Novak brought to mind my first meeting with Novak in 2002, and subsequent events:

It was Novak's criticism of the Bush administration's Iraq policy, and especially his agreement with Buchanan on that subject, that earned him inclusion in David Frum's notorious 2003 catalog of "Unpatriotic Conservatives."
Since then, Frum has gone on to attack others, including Mark Levin. . . . As a result of the Bush policy -- and the rhetoric that attended the political defense of that policy -- every consideration of the U.S. position in the Middle East became a crude referendum on anti-Semitism, so that all dissenters were suspected of being closet Jew-haters in "unpatriotic" allegiance with terrorists.
This Manichean rhetorical escalation was both unfortunate and unjust, even if some of the dissenters (including Buchanan) had unwisely given their critics ammunition with which to arm accusations of mala fides. When discussions of policy become clouded by such damaging insinuations, when disagreement is cited as evidence of moral inferiority -- can anyone but a child molester be worse than an anti-Semite? -- then honest discussion becomes impossible. . . .
Today, of course, Novak can no longer be harmed by accusations that he, born at Jew, was guilty of aiding and abetting anti-Semites. Whatever his faults and errors, Bob Novak now awaits the judgment of a higher authority than David Frum. Let us pray that Frum will now pause to consider that he, too, shall one day be judged by the same authority.

You can read the whole thing at The American Spectator, and I am grateful to be linked in Ed Driscoll's own Novak tribute, as well as by DaTechguy, Mark Goluskin and Craig Henry.

Last night, I got a message from a veteran conservative communications professional, a friend who on Friday had tried to contact me about Frum's attack on Levin. Over the weekend, my attention had been consumed by other news, and so I had not responded to an earlier e-mail.

In the meantime, however, Dan Riehl had blogged about it, and someone called my attention to Frum's appearance on the Moyers show, and my response to that was actually mentioned on Monday night's show by Levin.

Nothing is more harmful to the legacy of Ronald Reagan than when a conservative, engaged in good-faith discussions of politics and policy, is publicly accused of dangerous malice, immorality or irresponsibility by another who purports similarly to revere the worthy cause to which Reagan dedicated his life.

Frum's attack on Levin was such an occasion, as was his "Unpatriotic Conservatives" article that attacked Novak and others. If a colleague in the conservative cause has erred in judgment, he should certainly expect criticism. Yet Frum has so clearly crossed a line -- and crossed it more than once -- that I wish he would entertain the hypothetical possibility that he has himself made errors of judgment.

Our nation is now in circumstances too desperate for good men to be silent while sincere conservatives like Mark Levin (who did honorable service under Ed Meese in the Reagan administration) are repeatedly and unfairly maligned by others who profess also to be conservatives.

(Cross-posted at the Hot Air Green Room.)

ROBERT NOVAK, R.I.P.

A great reporter has died.

UPDATE 12:11: Chicago Sun-Times:

Chicago Sun-Times columnist Robert Novak, one of the nation’s most influential journalists, who relished his “Prince of Darkness” public persona, died at home here early Tuesday morning after a battle with brain cancer. . . .

UPDATE 12:23: On Fox News, Major Garrett -- a former newspaper man himself -- just talked aobut Novak's excellence at "shoe leather" reporting: The time-consuming business of seeking out face-to-face interviews with sources.

His memoir, The Prince of Darkness, is full of stories about how he did this, meeting quietly at restaurants and bars with people, famous and obscure, who might be able to give him a scoop. People who've never worked as D.C. reporter would be amazed how often it is through casual social acquaintances -- someone you met at a party -- that a reporter gets a scoop.

"Better journalism through whiskey" is an ancient art that Novak once practiced nearly to his own destruction, until he took alarm at his health and swore the stuff off.

UPDATE 12:30: Tim Carney, who worked as an assistant to Novak for years, talks about the great man and his methods:

Bob Novak was, above all, a reporter.
Watching him work was a delightful education in reporting.
In 2004, I was chatting with Novak at a conservative dinner at the Willard Intercontinental in downtown D.C. when Ralph Reed approached. Novak greeted Reed, introduced me, and began trading pleasantries, but within one minute the conversation had somehow become an on-background interview -- I noticed this, but I’m not sure Reed did, because of the subtlety with which Novak deflected any questions back at Reed and steered the conversation away from himself.
It was a remarkable trait to find in a professional pundit so successful and so opinionated: Novak might have been the best listener I’ve ever known. . . .

What Novak was doing with Reed -- using a social encounter to pry out some useful bit of news -- is really the key to understanding why he was so good. The dramatic stuff of "All the President's Men" has given people a mistaken notion of what investigative reporting is really all about. It's actually more mundane than that -- but in some ways, more exciting. To reel in a source like a fish on the line is delicate business.

UPDATE 12:45 p.m.: Also at Human Events, Ken Tomlinson talks about Novak and the "Sonnenfeldt Doctrine," an example of how Novak's reporting impacted Cold War policy. Novak was originally a liberal Republican (that was before liberal Republicans learned to pretend they were conservative) but he always hated Commies.

But hating Commies is not an opinion. To say that communism is evil is to state a neutral, objective fact.

UPDATE 1:10 p.m.: When Novak's brain cancer was reported in July 2008, I wrote:

Early on in his career, Novak's saturnine appearance earned him the "Prince of Darkness" sobriquet. His longtime column partner, Rowland Evans, was a patrician WASP known and loved by Washington insiders, and so it was generally suspected (not altogether unfairly) that Novak was the troublemaker whose inside scoops caused so much embarrassment for the Establishment.

And in that post, I quoted Michelle Malkin's own tribute to Novak:

Novak has had a huge influence on my career. During a college conservative journalists’ confab, he urged us to seek metro newspaper jobs, pay our dues, and try to stay out of Washington for as long as possible. I took the advice to heart and left D.C. after a year as an intern at NBC to take my first newspaper job at the L.A. Daily News and then the Seattle Times.

Very good advice. The problem with a reporter coming to D.C. as a 22-year-old, I think, is that they come to take it for granted and don't appreciate what an honor it is to cover the Major Leagues, so to speak. When your earliest front-page scoops are about city councils and county zoning boards, you develop a better sensibility about the job.

Novak actually started out covering high-school sports as a teenage stringer for his hometown paper. After college and the Army, he eventually hired on with the Associated Press in their Omaha bureau, then transferred to their Indianapolis bureau before finally coming to D.C. at age 26. In Prince of Darkness, he writes:

I was the only AP newsman in Washington less than thirty years old, and there were precious few under 40.

That is to say, to be assigned to Washington was then, as it still should be, a plum job -- a privileged and an honor earned -- and I think that the kid who shows up in D.C. as a 22-year-old fresh out of college doesn't understand that.

More blog reaction at Mememorandum.

Your new hero: Barbara Espinosa

Every revolution begins with one courageous individual, relentlessly dedicated to a cause -- and perhaps written up in my American Spectator column:

Tom's Tavern in Phoenix was "packed to the rafters" Monday morning, Barbara Espinosa told me. "You could hardly move."
The tavern was the scene of a "Health Care Town Hall" event hosted by J.D. Hayworth, the former Arizona Republican congressman who is now a popular talk radio host on KFYI in Phoenix.
President Obama was in town to address the annual convention of the Veterans of Foreign Wars, and Ms. Espinosa was a member of the crowd who marched from Tom's Tavern to the Phoenix Convention Center to welcome the president, carrying signs with slogans like, "Pull the Plug on ObamaCare" and "Marx Was Not a Founding Father."
Had Ms. Espinosa not been in the crowd, I wouldn't have known about the protest. She posted a notice of the Tom's Tavern rally on her blog and, using her cell phone, sent me photos of the protest that I posted on my blog.
Welcome to the Information Age, where somebody's grandma is changing the world one Facebook update at a time. . . .

Read the whole thing. Ms. Espinosa is planning to attend the 9/12 Taxpayer March on DC, so we might have to organize a "Smittypalooza" in her honor. You should add her as your Facebook friend.

Musical lament for a massive failure:'By the Time Obama Got To Phoenix'

Performed by J.D. Hayworth and the Angry Mob Singers:

By the time I get to Phoenix my plan is dying
I hear the crowds, and House members running for the door
They laugh when we reach the part about cost savin'
Cause they've heard that so many times before . . .

Fisherville Mike has the rest of that tune.

Thug-o-crat A says to thug-o-crat B:

by Smitty

"That crowd is making a mess of things. In my country, we have ways of controlling speech and assembly and keeping the people in line. Sometimes firmly. It is unfortunate, but necessary."

B to A: "Yeah, I don't want the folks who created the mess to do a lot of talking, either. I want them to get out of the way so we can clean up the mess. Unfortunately, I don't enjoy the freedom you do to undertake the required action, alas. Yet"

You just wish it was a joke

by Smitty

Weeps.

Somebody start a pool:How long before Rich Lowry gets fired?

Accusing Sarah Palin (and her supporters) of "hysteria" over health care?

Once again, as I said two weeks ago, National Review contributes more evidence for the prosecution in the continuing case of Why Rich Lowry Should Have Been Fired No Later Than 2001.

Jonah Goldberg says he doesn't want the top job -- he actually considers Lowry a friend -- but I've warned him he might not have a choice. No matter how loudly paleos and libertarians would howl in fury at Goldberg's elevation, he at least has the necessary thirst for combat against liberals, rather than engaging in a lot of snotty nancy-boy whining about the uncouth Republican rabble.

Replacing Lowry with Goldberg would produce an immediate 47% reduction in the Effete Douchebag Index at National Review. Lowry's stayed too long at the dance, and people are getting sick of NR being the official Mitt/Jeb 2012 campaign journal, repeatedly slagging Palin and the grassroots. We're in the seventh inning, the home team's down by three, the starting pitcher just walked the bases loaded, and I expect to see the manager make his way to the mound and signal to the bullpen any minute now.

More at Conservatives4Palin and Riehl World View.

Reader's Digest: Death by Consultants

Reader's Digest plans to
file for US bankruptcy

When I was a kid, the reading fodder at our home consisted chiefly of three things:

• The Atlanta Journal (the afternoon paper, which had then not yet fully merged with the morning Constitution);
• The World Book Encyclopedia, which our parents bought as a Christmas gift for us kids when I was 7, and which I had read in nearly its entirety by the time I was 12; and
• The Reader's Digest.

Most people probably don't remember what a glorious, important, exciting magazine Reader's Digest used to be. When I was 8, 9, 10 years old, Reader's Digest would have articles about the Vietnam War, great "true crime" stories, historical features, profiles of major newsmakers and entertainers, jokes, cartoons, recipes -- just everything you could imagine.

The basic idea was that each month's issue would include 30 articles -- an article a day, a diet of literacy for the ordinary person who couldn't subscribe to dozens of magazines, but who, via Reader's Digest, could keep himself informed, enlightened and, yes, entertained.

There was a true variety of content and, in my role a top Hayekian public intellectual, I would be remiss if I didn't mention that Reader's Digest famously helped make The Road to Serfdom a nationwide bestseller by publishing a condensed version that went through several printings in its own right.

Just the most wonderful thing you could imagine for a kid to have in the house back in the day. There was no cable TV or Internet, and many an idle hour was spent poring over those thick little magazines. Mom kept them collected in stacks on the bottom shelves of coffee tables and end tables. Sometimes, scouring around for something to read, I'd go into the stack and read articles from five, six, seven years previous -- just fascinating stuff, really.

What a sad dessicated thing the Reader's Digest had become in recent years, a steep decline for which I blame consultants. The publishing industry -- newspapers, magazines, books -- is plagued with these overpaid "experts" who collect fat fees to give bad advice.

Whatever his advice, the one thing the publishing consultant will never tell an editor this:

"Hey, you've got a pretty good [magazine/newspaper/book company], so basically, you should just 'dance with the one that brung ya.' Circulation and sales might be a little bit slow lately, but your basic content is pretty good. Maybe you could add more photos or try some snappier cover layouts, or develop a new marketing campaign. But in terms of the basic product you're delivering to your readers, that's great. Focus on maintaining quality and high standards, and you'll be fine."

If you're ever working for a publisher and you get a memo from the executive suite telling you that they've hired a consulting company to "refocus our brand," etc., you should put in your two-week notice immediately. If the folks in the executive suite don't know how to run their own company . . .

UPDATE: Wow, strong reaction in the comments -- welcome Instapundit readers. One commenter questioned the extent of the role of consultants in the decline of Reader's Digest. We don't know the full answer, but one of our commenters who used to work in their D.C. bureau had some interesting observations about their switch to a celeb-focused lightweight approach in recent years.

One of the things I've noticed over the years is that journalists can be divided into two classes: (a) those who spend their time reading publishing-industry trade journals, trying to spot new trends, and (b) good journalists.

In every newsroom there are worthless drones who waste hours of company time sitting in their cubicles reading useless crap like Editor & Publisher or the monthly ASNE newsletter. Keeping up on "industry trends," you see -- a convenient substitute for doing actual work. Is it any wonder that the main "industry trend" is the worst gotterdammerung in publishing since Guttenberg invented moveable type?

UPDATE II: Thanks to the anonymous commenter who found at least one consultant's fingerprints on this story -- which is certainly not to say that this particular consulting firm did anything wrong or that their services are not valuable.

Rather, it merely demonstrates how the hiring of consulting firms so often serves as an indicator-light on the company dashboard, a potential signal of managerial incompetence. If your IT despartment can't do its own system upgrade and your graphics department can't handle a page redesign -- so that your bosses are always hiring outsiders to do such things -- it's not exactly a hallmark of a well-run publishing concern.

But hey, don't believe me. It's not like I have experience with the publishing industry or clueless management . . .

When in doubt, blame Mark Levin

David Frum was interviewed Friday on PBS's "Bill Moyers Journal" and was asked:

"You describe yourself as a calm conservative. But you have certainly aroused those to your right in the Republican Party. You know, talk show hosts like Mark Levin have come after you saying you're kneecapping your own. What about that?"

To which Frum replied:

"Look, a lot of the conservative movement in this country is conducting itself in a way that is tremendously destructive. Both of the basic constitutional compact of the requirements of good faith and of their own good sense. I mean, when you were going on the air and calling the President of the United States a Nazi as Rush Limbaugh has repeatedly done. When Mark Levin -- you mentioned him - he said the President of the United States is literally at war with the American people. And then people begin, unsurprisingly, showing up at rallies with guns. It's just outrageous. It is dangerous. It's dangerous for the whole constitutional system."

Really, David. Was that necessary? Talk radio is "dangerous for the whole constitutional system"? Like you're the second coming of James Madison?

And while we're at it: How come Bill Moyers and Jim Lehrer never ask Rush Limbaugh or Mark Levin to come on their shows? Am I the only person who gets tired of seeing these third-person references to famous people who, I suppose, would be available for interviews when they are slanderously accused of fomenting assassination attempts?

Headline of the Day Month Year Century

Black Man Pleads Guilty
to Posing as Obama-Hating
White Supremacist on Facebook

This is what annoys me about New Media. It took me years of hard work to develop a notorious reputation as an Obama-hating white supremacist. These kids -- Dyron L. Hart is a mere lad of 20 -- think they can jump online and become a hatemongering sensation overnight. And they don't realize that impersonating a bigot is a federal offense.

Where's the respect? Where's the tradition? I got no problem with college kids trying to bring some fake-Facebook diversity to the Obama-hating movement, but they need to acknowledge the fact that they stand on the shoulders of giants . . .

(Via Instapundit.)

'Angry mob' awaits Obama in PhoenixUPDATE: LIVE PHOTOS!

BUMPED 11:45 a.m. ET: Barbara Espinosa is sending photos from Phoenix via her Blackberry:

A friendly historical reminder about the American founding. And notice the yellow sign at right: "Obama's New Motto: How Can I Fool Them Today?" Except I don't think it's exactly new . . .

Notice that this lady is in a wheelchair. You may look at her and say, "Oh, look -- a patriotic American exercising her First Amendment right to free speech!" But that just goes to show you what an evil racist you are. (BTW, thanks to Jimmie Bise for the linkage.)

An unidentified hottie in front of the KFYI radio booth displays her opposition to ObamaCare, as well as her nice legs. In Barbara's last message, she reported that it's 100 degrees in Phoenix today, so if the Tea Party ladies are dressed for the weather . . . We're understanding. We care.

Beth Straley displays her "Birther" pride. I am on record in opposition to Birtherism, although co-blogger Smitty is moderate on that issue. Still, you've got to love that one bumper sticker on Ms. Straley's sign:

"Kenya Called. They Want Their Marxist Back."

If that's not worth a "Heh," I don't know from "Heh."

A friendly Phoenix welcome for our Commander-in-Chief. Please note the yellow Gadsden Flag in the right background of the photo.

(ORIGINAL POST) 11:13 a.m. ET: My new BFF, American Freedom blogger Barbara Espinosa of Arizona, informs me that the Arizona Tea Party Patriots are rallying this morning in Phoenix, where President Obama is due to address the annual convention of the VFW.

KFYI's J.D. Hayworth has live coverage of the rally at Tom's Tavern. Rumors that Barbara Espinosa has gotten a Gadsden Flag tattoo have not yet been confirmed.

Kathleen Sebelius is a total douchebag

No. Wait a minute. No responsible journalist would write such a headline about the Secretary of Health and Human Services.

I misspoke.

Sorry about that, Madame Secretary. You understand.

OK, so you waved the religious symbol at the vampire...

by Smitty

Let Freedom Ring sounds a healthy note of caution regarding the purported death of the public option (emphasis mine).

"I think there will be a competitor to private insurers," Sebelius said. "That's really the essential part, is you don't turn over the whole new marketplace to private insurance companies and trust them to do the right thing."

• If private insurers were engaging in anti-competitive practices, wouldn't that be a Sherman Anti-trust Act violation?
• What's this "new marketplace" doo-dad? When I hear the M word, I think actual competition and capitalism.
• "trust them"? I don't even trust my understanding of anything coming out of this administration. Obama's policies are like having the word inconceivable stretched across an...inconceivable number of reams of paper:

LFR continues:

If we want to win this debate, it's important that we highlight the Democrats' next attempt at single-payer. It's also important that we insist that H.R. 3200 be scrapped, along with the Baucus bill and the Kennedy-Dodd legislation. The premise for the Democrats' health care reform legislation has been faulty from the outset.

Amateurs talk about tactics. Professionals talk about logistics. Buffy talks about getting it done.

While I don't dispute there is a tactical battle against The Congress That Shall Live in Infamy which must be fought, keep in mind that this is an ideological struggle for the soul of these 50 States United. Your enemy hates you, despises your love of liberty, and will cheerfully appear to concede semantic firefights in the name of its ultimate goal. Yes, the vampire has been chased off. It is undead. It can wait.

The Federal government is overpowered at the moment. Tell me what we're doing to put a stake in the heart of the horror and yank its fangs.

Maureen Dowd: 'Obsessed? Me? Just Because I Haven't Written Anyhing Except Anti-Palin Columns Since Sept. 2008?'

Which, as Mark Finkelstein points out, might as well be the headline on MoDo's latest Rorshach test:

At the moment, what [Palin] wants to do is tap into her visceral talent for aerial-shooting her favorite human prey: cerebral Ivy League Democrats.
Just as she was able to stir up the mob against Barack Obama on the trail, now she is fanning the flames against another Harvard smarty-pants -- Dr. Zeke Emanuel, a White House health care adviser and the older brother of Rahmbo.
She took a forum, Facebook, more commonly used by kids hooking up and cyberstalking, and with one catchy phrase, several footnotes and a zesty disregard for facts, managed to hijack the health care debate from Mr. Obama.
Sarahcuda knows, from her brush with Barry on the campaign trail, that he is vulnerable on matters that demand a visceral and muscular response rather than a logical and book-learned one. Mr. Obama was charming and informed at his town hall in Montana on Friday, but he’s going to need some sustained passion, a clear plan and a narrative as gripping as Palin’s I-see-dead-people scenario. . . .

Read the whole thing, especially if you are a psychologist who might render some sort of learned opinion about whatever has caused Dowd to devote her dotage to this quest to destroy Palin, like mad Ahab hunting Moby Dick.

It's insane -- and trust me, I have more direct experience in the field of insanity than most psychologists. However, when I engage in lunatic self-parody, at least I understand that I am making myself the subject of the story. MoDo shows no such self-awareness, apparently believing that she can devote column after column to her idee fixe without calling into question whether she is revealing more about herself than about her putative subject.

There, but for the grace of God . . .

DIAGNOSTIC UPDATE: Weasel Zippers suggests, "When you look up bitter, elitist, jealous douchebags in the dictionary Maureen Dowd's decrepit mug should be front and center." And our esteemed colleague Dr. Kill, recalling the recent medical analysis of Ms. Dowd's condition, somberly observes:

Oh oh, sounds like someone's out of peanut butter.

Either that or her German shepherd ran away -- an altogether understandable Pavlovian response to Ms. Dowd's particular stimuli. Research by epidemiologists (commisioned under an NIH grant managed by the McCain Institute For Advanced Vaginology) suggests that exposure to Ms. Dowd's gaping, arid, malodorous vajayjay produces a 37 percent increased likelihood of victims developing an acute case of Raging Faggotosis. NTTAWWT.

Remember, folks: Bad Nookie Is No Laughing Matter.

DIAGNOSTIC UPDATE II: Thanks to Sister Toldjah for bringing to the attention of Institute researchers the latest commentary on another tragic case study:

"I don't know exactly what about me threatens them (Michelle Malkin, Ann Coulter and Co.) so much, other than that people are listening to me," she writes in her latest cranium-inflating missive to the kids on the Internets. She brags that she has twice as many followers on Twitter as Malkin. "And trust me, Twitter is more of an indication of where young people are than books published." Books are so for old people!
Meghan is building a "look at me, I'm such a hip badass" platform, lobbing insults at pundits to prove she's just as edgy as her father. . .

Obviously, this further confirms the numerous reports in the Institute's archives (including one submitted by a Columbia University sophomore who was the last Teke pledge in line at a November 2003 all-night kegger) that the patient we call "Meaghan M." was already showing clear symptoms of intermediate-stage BNS in the first semester of her freshman year.

Rule 5 Sunday

by Smitty

Rule 5 Sunday is once again upon us. Great roundup, as we seem to have more participation from the ladies and some of the big names in the blogosphere. Let us pause for refreshment in positive things.

• Reader Cindy suggests we start with Emily West as a palate cleanser. This blog concurs in an ow-that-pebble-hurts kind of way.
• Late for the International BikiniFest, Engadget does something with 15 bikini models and wiring to make a synthesizer. I don't know how he kept a straight face, either.
• Mallika Sherawat appears to have been slightly late for the bikini-synthesizer gig, but makes up for it by being stunning.
• The Instapundit, to whom we never hesitate to direct more traffic when we can, links a Life Magazine collection of celebrities in bikinis. Three Beers Later had gone flat by the time the entry arrived, alas.
• Daphne, at Jaded Heaven, admits a brunette bias.
• Vodkapundit links a clip of bikini-clad women reading the script to Star Wars. I'm not sure if the absinthe is working for you, Steven.
• Chad at the KURU Lounge suggested Jana Defi. We can agree on this much: Jana is a healthy lady.
• The Troglodarity Department feels it is time to bring back Britney. And Carrie Prejean. We're also treated to Sophie Milman. Have you ever wanted to be a microphone? Me neither, until I saw that clip.
• Morgan Freeberg presents Meghan Fox in a clip that is new to me, but may have offended some already in its potty-mouthed hyperbole. Troglopundit linked it too, and his comment function is about an order of magnitude less painful than Freeberg's.
• Powerline is finally seeking that special traffic boost that only Rule 5 can give. Here is some serious reporting on the Miss Universe Pageant. Follow-up posted here. Again, the Miss Universe Pageant refused to let Stacy McCain be a judge, so I guess he's boycotting.
• In sports news, Dennis the Peasant has a Rule -5 example. I'll admit: I find that picture strange, yet compelling for some reason. Psychoanalyze me in the comments.
• Dustbury contributes Nadja Auermann, for those who admire the leg as a special art form.
• Ed Driscoll at Viral Footage linked The Onion's tweaking of PETA. Ed Driscoll.
• Obi's Sister goes hi-brow (NTTAWWT) with a montage of silver screen heroes set to Bach #3 for the ladies. That wasn't me, either, playing the Bach, though I should really practice on the pipes and post a clip. Browbeat me, readers.
• Paco favors the clarinet over the violin in suggesting Ginny Simms
• Jeffords quotes a woman in lingerie sitting on a piano amidst roses as saying "Mel Gibson is a visionary". Trust Jeffords. He is a professional.
• In health news, the WyBlog examines the Ratched future of nursing under Obamacare, and comes up with some attractive alternatives.
• The Classic Liberal continues the health care thread with a study in Avril Lavigne. The swerve into energy policy at the end was a bit of a mind frak. It will require several more reviews to determine whether or not it works.
• Staunch Rule 5 aficionado Bob Belvedere has several entries, a testament to his shamelessness. Here is Stella Stevens. There was a study in Suzanne Pleshette. He also recommends Julie Christie.

And how can we ignore the temptation from the last caption to squeeze in the fruit of another YouTube clip?

That concludes us send updates, cheers and jeers to Smitty. Peace, out.

Update:
Now that we've made sure the Myers has been fed (they shut down the buffet in his wake), let us attend to the correspondence.

• The Daily Gator had some edgier cheesecake on offer.
• Superpowers That Be is a Mad Men fan, then.
• 'Nation of Cowards' recommends Julianne Hough.
• I Am Classical Liberalism, And You Should, Too! (that' a blog name, not a Stephen Colbert riff) suggests Summer Altice.

The evil women of Pittsburgh

When I decided to make a mad dash to Pittsburgh yesterday for the RightOnline conference, I knew it would be unwise to make the trip alone. The conference was held at the Sheraton Station Square Hotel in the city's westside riverfront district -- notorious for its liquor, dancing and wicked women.

So I brought along my 16-year-old son, James, not only to remind me that -- in the words of Mr. Potato Head in Toy Story 2 -- I'm a married spud, but also so that he might see for himself the sorry fate that awaits those who stray from the path of righteousness.

While I had attempted to warn him about the infamous women of Pittsburgh, young James was still shocked at the utter shamelessness of these big-city hussies. The poor lad stared, visibly filled with feelings of pity and horror by the sad spectacle of vixens, tramps, sluts and outright harlots brazenly strolling down West Station Square Drive, all gussied up in their tight dresses, dyed hair, gaudy jewelry, even lipstick and other such sinful things.

"Gosh, Pa, I never saw the likes of them in Hagerstown," James said, as one gaggle of these tawdry strumpets strutted past, smelling of whiskey and cheap perfume.

"Yes, I know, son," I answered, shaking my head sadly. "Now you undestand why all those decent upstanding Republican ladyfolks left town the minute the conference ended, rather than to risk being seen down here by the river after dark. Bad enough during the day, but if word ever was to get around that they'd been here at night, people might think they were . . . liberal."

"Yeah," James said, astonished by the sight of a woman sashaying past us in tight short-shorts and high heels. "Maybe even . . . progressive."

"Hush, boy. Your mama would wash your mouth out with lye soap if she heard you use such shameful language," I said. "Even about a woman who is so obviously . . . a Democrat."

It was then that I shared with the lad a famous poem inspired by the fallen women of Pittsburgh:

You wouldn't read my letter if I wrote you
You asked me not to call you on the phone
But there's something I'm wanting to tell you
So I wrote it in the words of this song

I didn't know God made honky tonk angels
I might have known you'd never make a wife
You gave up the only one that ever loved you
And went back to the wild side of life

The glamor of the gay night life has lured you
To the places where the wine and liquor flows
Where you wait to be anybody's baby
And forget the truest love you'll ever know

I didn't know God made honky tonk angels
I might have known you'd never make a wife
You gave up the only one that ever loved you
And went back to the wild side of life