House of Eratosthenes

All the news worth printing over the last month or so (minus the Haiti thing), distilled down into a single brief paragraph from Gabriel Malor at Ace of Space HQ:

…Democrats just aren’t that excited about this election. Martha Coakley is a certified idiot. And as much as Obama wants something — ANYTHING — with the words “Health” and “America” to pass Congress, not even the Democrats are excited about the Senate or House versions of healthcare reform. Second only to the Christmas Day attack, the dominant news story since Christmas has been how much the Senate hates the House version; how much the House hates the Senate version; and how much Democratic constituents hate both. Game over, man.

Now here’s something I did say…over at the place of the purse-dog-obsessed Gerard Van der Leun, who was asking the entirely legitimate question: What if Obama does fail? I recall wearing my “Hope He Fails” tee shirt out to dinner to meet an old acquaintance and his O-worshipping wife, who was aghast at my attire. Naturally, she thought I wanted the country to fail. Well, I’m not buying the O-worship. I see the logic. If Obama succeeds, the country fails, and vice-versa. She, in turn, was not seeing that. So……subject change. And no, dinner was not unbelievably awkward. The most unpleasant thing that happened was that my ol’ roomy really didn’t like his prawns-scallops-and-cayenne dish. The political-opinion-differences didn’t enter into it. That’s the way it works in mature-adult-land. We get past that stuff.

The dish, for what it’s worth, was cooked expertly IMO. But I don’t think it belongs on a restaurant menu, no. It’s really an acquired taste. If you appreciate the way seafood, red pepper and lime mix together, you’d love it. To most people it’s like gulping orange juice in the morning right after brushing your teeth and gargling minty mouthwash. And I’m on that side.

Wow, that was a bunny trail.

Back to the subject at hand: Gerard was asking where the country is if Obama fails. And if we do want Obama to fail, shouldn’t we at least put some thought into this before we wish too hard. That’s a good point. My response:

Forty-four men have taken the oath of office of President in Obama’s universe; in mine, only forty-three, which is almost as many.

Of those, it is fair to say at least two-thirds were placeholders. Say what you want for-or-against Reagan, Clinton and GWB, but all three of them distinguished themselves in office. They were definers. (“Bush Pere” I would categorize as falling somewhere on the wall that separates the two halves I’m talking about.)

We have been incredibly fortunate these last thirty years to see what real Presidents do. It’s just time for a milquetoast, in fact we’re overdue. Law of averages. We’ll survive it.

By the way, I know you’re just asking a sincere question and trying to get a decent answer. But you’ve inadvertently supplied a perfect definition for the word “Obama” in the generations ahead of us. Somewhat synonymous with “seagull manager.” All hat no cattle. Post turtle. An ultimately unfortunate soul who talks a good game, fulfills the writ of the Peter Principle in grand style, and ends up with vastly more power and authority than he was ever intended to have. If I may be allowed to inject just one more hackneyed metaphor — the dog that finally caught the car.

People who wanted the job, and once they got it just ended up in the way, well be told to “Quit Obama-ing!”

If you’re American and you’re under thirty, you haven’t had a President Millard Filmore or Chester Alan Arthur in your lifetime. And back in their day, they were just filling out a consecutive, contiguous parade of phone-it-in presidents. That’s how it was done. The trend was unbroken save for Abraham Lincoln and, if you’ve done your research and concluded favorably, perhaps Grover Cleveland and Ulysses Grant. From 1837 to the end of the century it was just one long string of duds.

This is my hope for Barack Obama: To be a one-term, modern-day Martin van Buren. That’s how He can do the least amount of damage. And the evidence of my senses tells me He’s already there.

He is smallpox, after the epidemic has ended and the last specimen has been — not destroyed — safely isolated into a single vial, where it can be studied, and have no further ill effect on anything outside that vial. If things go well Tuesday, this will be confirmed once and for all.

Purse-dog-obsessed. I resemble that remark. But I am not. I have been holding back , out of the deep respect I hold for the host here, a picture of a real man with a real purse dog, but I see I may have to deploy it this week….. once the “dick-obsessed man mattress” in Massachusette is put down like an old purse dog.
- vanderleun | 01/17/2010 @ 20:05
You’re right about the scallop thing. Restaurants of the brain-dead iron=chef new-age food cult variety are just running fresh out of ideas. I’m looking for duck a la listerine in a crack whore underwear footard by next fall. Served deep inside a lime jello mold of the president, of course.
- vanderleun | 01/17/2010 @ 20:09
The trend was unbroken save for Abraham Lincoln and, if you’ve done your research and concluded favorably, perhaps Grover Cleveland and Ulysses Grant. From 1837 to the end of the century it was just one long string of duds.

I have noticed that history textbooks tend to gloss-over most 19th century US presidents, Lincoln being the sole major exception. Almost all of the others who served during the 1800s are relatively obscure; it’s as if Honest Abe was the only leader of note in-between Thomas Jefferson and Teddy Roosevelt. Perhaps this is why.
- cylarz | 01/18/2010 @ 04:09

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