By Enemy Central on 3.26.04 @ 7:57PM
Unity becomes these United States in its time of troubles.
Democrats have reason to be proud. Last night, at their monthly
unity dinner, they raised $11 million in hard money -- some of it
even in dollars. It was hard to say which of the men on stage was
the main attraction. We kind of liked Jimmy Carter, who confessed
to using Ralph Nader as an adviser during his presidency and now
begged him not run on a third party ticket. It's nice to come full
circle, from America held hostage to the Democratic Party held
hostage.
Shrewdly, Al Gore let on that not a single Democratic luminary
backed John Kerry's primary run. Not he, not Clinton, not
McAuliffe, not Karenna, not Tipper, not Howard Dean. Before Gore
sat down Kerry's approval ratings doubled, at least inside the
National Building Museum. Gore's endorsement of Dean, meanwhile,
finally paid off. By all accounts, Howie received the loudest
applause of the entire evening, deafening applause in fact --
ironically enough, because if Dems were in power we'd all enjoy
universal health care and no one would ever again go deaf.
Bill Clinton showed off, flashing his bankbook and begging the
Bush IRS to do something about it. There was lots of talk about the
jobs he created, though let's not go there, until it can be proved
that these were paying jobs. Oddly, Mr. Clinton's former
co-president did not share the stage, perhaps because she's a woman
and like Carol Moseley Braun was asked to stay as far away as
politically possible. Or maybe it just wasn't the time to announce
her as Mr. Kerry's running mate. She's likely to hold out for a lot
more than $11 million.
So it's not true that women are the doormats of the Democratic
Party. Who needs them when there's always George W. Bush, whose
visage adorns the mat at party chairman Terry McAuliffe's office
doorway. Some regard it as the cruelest demonstration of
Bushophobia since last week's peace marches which depicted Bush as
none other than Adolf. But then the Drudge White House released
photos of a floor mosaic of Bush favored by Saddam Hussein for the
same purpose. We need not act surprised. No less than today's
Democrats citizen Saddam was angered by Bush's rush to war.
Some doormats bristle at the treatment meted out to them by
those they consider heels. One such disgruntled floor covering is
the greatest American of the last hundred years, the Hon. Richard
Clarke. Though he might try to impress you with false bravado about
all the retaliatory strikes he planned against all enemies foreign,
domestic, and those with dual citizenship, don't let him fool you.
Clarke is in truth an Albert Schweitzer, a Father Teresa, a St.
Francis. He saves lives. As the Boston Herald reports, it
was Clarke who signed off on the rescue of Osama bin Laden's
family, which was spirited out of Boston's Logan Airport within
days of September 11. By Saudi standards, Clarke has the making of
a royal prince. He's now first in line to succeed Prince Bandar as
Riyadh's ambassador to Washington.
Clarke is in hot water, none of it of the geyser variety that
northwest Wyoming Republicans have picked out for him. Seems his
mouth has never ceased operations. For book purposes and the
millions he stands to earn, he adopts the Kerry-Dean line. Before
that, in sundry interviews, he was a Bush-Rice man. Now the 9/11
commission suspects that the Clarke interviewed under oath in 2002
underwent a brain transplant before his televised testimony earlier
this week. His denials notwithstanding, Clarke can only be
understood as a Kerry type, someone who was for something before
being against it.
We like consistency, solidity in a man, and so it is with relief
that we've reacted to the return of Howell Raines. Yes, he's back
in a big way, a 90,000 page apologia appearing in the new issue of
the Atlantic. It's all bluster, but of the highest
quality: throat-clearing without resort to a single lozenge. From
the get-go we're reminded why Raines is no longer editing the
New York Times. In the opening paragraph he notes that
plagiarism was one of Jayson Blair's unforgivable sins. But wait.
Right above that first paragraph is the title of Raines's opus. It
reads "My Times" -- the very same title that former Times
reporter and critic John Corry used for his memoir a
decade ago.
Don't worry, Howell, we're not gonna turn you in. Compared to
EOW Richard Clarke, you're the hero of this and every week.
topics:
Health Care, Bill Clinton