Basement Bargains - The American Spectator | USA News and Politics
Basement Bargains

Harvard has a new president, striking a bargain with Dr. Faust, the first woman to go by that name. Whether any such bargain was need is open to question. “And it has only taken them 371 years,” NOW’s Kim Grandy said, holding up the calculator and five fingers that helped her determine that sum. The nature of her complaint is unclear, though, since it would seem longevity is already well established at Harvard. Why, 371 years is even longer than the length of the affair the late Zsa Zsa Gabor’s husband conducted with Anna Nicole Smith. Be that as it may, how long now before a Harvard president is allowed to coach in a Super Bowl?

The selection of Dr. Drew Faust for the Harvard post is being described as a sharp rebuff of her predecessor, Lawrence Summers, who had angered women by presuming to disagree with them. But so far as we can tell, Dr. Faust has demonstrated competence only in Women’s Studies and gender linguistics, not in math and science. Advantage Summers, Kim Grandy’s arithmetical prowess notwithstanding.

Speaker Nancy Pelosi, fresh from a victory tour of Iraq and Afghanistan, was determined to put her newly earned wings and stripes to regular use. Then she ran into turbulence from Republican air-controllers above the Pentagon’s air space. Although the White House distanced itself from the Republican obstructionists, Pelosi’s request to be allowed nonstop service to California aboard military aircraft remains dead on the tarmac. There’s only one way out — the White House will have to give her the keys to Air Force One. Gentlepersons, starts its engines!

Lost in the afterburn was the dour visage of Rep. John Murtha, who traveled alongside Ms. Pelosi to the Middle East. Murtha was strictly along for sentimental reasons, hoping at long last to locate the sheik he seemed ready to help during Abscam.

From the progressive Santa Barbara News-Press comes the suggestion that Lady Hillary Rodham cool her own jets regarding a presidential run. Particularly now that “she has taken to wearing a cross on her neck,” writes John F. Tintle of rustic Nipomo, a wrong signal is being sent. “If we elect a woman president it will infuriate the Muslim world beyond measure,” he notes, especially its Islamic extremists. “They will see the United States as a weakened enemy and will be encouraged to bring their jihad to our own country, given their well-known views about women.” If Hillary truly loves her country, she’ll undergo a sex change.

To be sure, such a political makeover would prove once again that women sacrifice more than men ever have to. Would anyone ever recommend that Messrs. Obama and Edwards contemplate something similar. They’re both quite pretty, actually, but would John Edwards really become more attractive if he were an indisputable Breck girl? Let’s not tease Boy John — just last week he was rolled by two Bolsheviki in his employ, and he can stand to appear weak only so many times before he’s mistaken for Joseph Biden.

Not every chump in D.C. is an elected pol. Sometimes he’s a member of the fighting Washington Wizards. What fighting this team does is never against opponents but always internal. At the center position it has two borderline players competing for precious playing time. One week it’s one of them getting suspended for punching the other; the next it’s the other for punching the first. Thinking of it as the kind of rivalry we’ve seen between Kid Schumer and Hulk Hillary. But now comes the Senator Snort of the mix, one Gilbert Arenas, who promised to mete out revenge against all the coaches who conspired last summer to keep him off the U.S. national team. Nate McMillan of the Portland Trailblazers was the latest on his list. Arenas said he’d score 50 points against McMillan’s team. The ‘Blazers came to town yesterday and Arenas managed just nine. Did he apologize? No! He blamed his own coach for forcing him to play defense.

It’s not every week that a mere Washington civilian can make a political eminence look admirable by comparison. You know what that means — it’s EOW time! Let’s all drink to Gilbert, a pain in arenas nationwide.

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