Re Mr. Tyrrell’s excellent encapsulation of the sordid Demo escapades swept under the rug down through the ages. That is one lumpy rug! What happened when clumsy old Bob Packwood plants a couple of sloppy kisses on some middle aged campaign worker and “cops a feel” or two in an elevator? He resigned and slunk off to be a lobbyist. How about when Teddy Kennedy saves himself but drowns the chick at Chappaquiddick? He heroically swims to shore, goes back to his hotel, establishes his whereabouts by asking the desk clerk for the correct time, complaining “it’s late and I can’t sleep for all the racket”… and there the fat toad sits, year after year, brain so addled by drink, trembling hands holding prepared statements he cannot even read, unrepentant and unscathed by scandal.
By the time Bill Clinton and his bride arrived in Washington, dragging his big bag of dirty Arkansas linen, the defecation hit the oscillation so regularly with Troopergate, Paula Jones, Travelgate (Remember the Thomassons attempted take over of White House Travel for their personal gold mine?) the Vince Foster suicide — his office carefully vacuumed for Clinton legal files — before the DC cops got to search it. Filegate, when Louis Freeh freehly gave up all the Republican staffers’ FBI files the White House asked for…Rose Law Firm files miraculously appearing in the residential quarters….well, it still takes one’s breath away to imagine one tawdry event after another. I can’t recall them all now. It certainly was beyond the capabilities of the Washington Press Corps and MSM to even begin to sort it out, so fast did one scandal obscure the previous one.
Finally, exhausted from wading through the putrid swamps of Clintonia, when it came to Monica — L’affaire Lewinsky — well, that’s just private behavior between consenting adults and if you weren’t reading The American Spectator back then, you probably don’t even know the details — besides it wouldn’t have happened if those pesky Republicans hadn’t shut down government. Idle hands, y’know. I mean when an intern brings you pizza and snaps her thong at you, what’s a Leader of the Free World to do? Act now and lie later, obviously.
There follows Clinton’s secretary covering for Clinton’s Oval Office cavorting, hiding those memorable Clinton “gifts” under her bed for the heart-broken Monica. White House Guards snickering and calling each other as Monica sneaks through for those stolen moments with Bill. Refresh our memories. How much did Billy Jeff have to pay in fines for LYING TO A GRAND JURY? How much did he have to pay Paula Jones to get her to stop caterwauling about her good name? All of that fades in the mists of time, doesn’t it? For now, we have a real scandal. A pathetic “gay” congressman no one ever heard of until three weeks ago, making one last desperate grab at the brass ring on the Merry Gay Round. If only he had been as glib as Barney Frank, who said he was “mentoring” this poor guy, helping him to turn his life around and he was betrayed.p>Politics, ain’t it wonderful. We are actually living under the threat of Hillary as Prez and Bill as First Philanderer. br> — Diane Smith br> South San Francisco, California /p>
A man of faith in a godless age is hitting Americans where it hurts.
Mr. and Mrs. American Spectator Reader, let P.J. O’Rourke talk sense to your kids.
In Britain, defending your property can get you life.
The debacle of this president’s administration is both a cause and a symptom of the decline of American values. Unless Congress impeaches him, that decline will go on unchecked. An eminent jurist surveys the damage and assesses the chances for the recovery of our culture.
It won’t take long for conservatives to scratch this presidential wannabe off their 2008 scorecard.
The American Christmas, like the songs that celebrate it, makes room for everybody under the rainbow. Is that why so many people seem to be hostile to it?
Was the President done in by the economy, or by the politics of the economy?