It's official: neo-neocon has moved!

The day has come: neo-neocon is officially transferring to the new blog site. Please update your bookmarks, and read me there from now on.

Moving day tomorrow

Official moving day tomorrow; ironing out a couple more kinks today.

Feel free, however, to visit the new blog site. and to offer comments and/or suggestions.

McCain: the honeymoon is so over

John McCain was once a media darling. The last time he ran for President, long ago and far away in 2000, the press couldn't restrain itself from slobbering over him.

Slobbering? Don't blame me, it's not my word. No lesser light than the august Haley Barbour (former chairman of the Republican National Committee and Bush supporter way back then) declared it to be the case, and former Senator Warren Rudman (McCain's campaign manager at the time) as well as WaPo columnist Mary McGrory, concurred that "slobber" well described the press attitude towards McCain.

It's like looking back at the loving courtship letters of a couple whose marriage ended up in the bitterness of divorce court. Here's Evan Thomas, assistant managing editor of Newsweek at the time:

Yes, [the media] are totally in love with John McCain...He gives great access [to the press]. He gives great quotes. He's funny-he's teasing. He's a fellow subversive in some ways. And they're all sort of united against the establishment. And he's a great story.

(Interesting, by the way, that the press--or at least Evan Thomas--saw [sees?] itself as "subversive.")

So, what's happened to the budding romance? To be blunt, McCain--once so bright-eyed and cuddly--is past his pull date.

Seven subsequent years of sloshing around in DC have meant that, if elected, he'd be the oldest President to ever win. And the years have not aged him like a fine wine (kicking around in Congress rarely does). Some of his pet projects--such as the McCain-Feingold bill--have turned out rather disastrously. And now, to top it all off, he's saddled by being perceived as a sort of Bush Lite on the war in Iraq. It must be galling to him, since there didn't used to be that much love lost between McCain and Bush.

As Peggy Noonan wrote in yesterday's Opinion Journal, McCain's obstinate personality, combined with his support for the Iraq War, may have cost him in subtle ways, even (or perhaps especially) among Republicans, who:

...don't precisely want another W. for president, another man who seems just as convinced, stubborn, single-minded, invested.

I'm not so sure I agree with Noonan, but perhaps she's correct. I think it's important to remember that McCain's biggest support never really came from paleoconservatives; he was perceived long ago as a Republican who leaned more to the middle, and therefore appealed to moderates. And that position in the Republican Party has been taken over by a younger, fresher face: that of Rudy Giuliani.

The two have something in common that most of the other candidates lack: the public perception that they have personal courage. No, "perception" isn't quite the right word--"knowledge" is. Both have been tested under fire--in very different ways--and come through with valor.

McCain's test was much longer and harder (look here under "Vietnam" if you're not familiar with this part of McCain's history). No one can question his extraordinary personal heroism; it's probably the most salient feature of his biography. But it occurred in what's now, politically speaking, the distant past--and was, for the most part, out of the US public eye at the time. Therefore it doesn't seem as relevant as Giuliani's recent performance in the immediate post-9/11 era, a public demonstration of his leadership in the face of terrorism and the threat of chaos following the attack.

It seems that, in psychological terms, Americans nationwide bonded with Giuliani during a time of grave crisis. A person perceived as being an anchor in a ferocious storm, a cool head under pressure, and a reassuring presence in a time of instability engenders trust and affection. Whether or not you like Giuliani's politics, or approve of the way he's led his private life, or think he's an opportunistic SOB, there's still that core truth: he demonstrated extraordinary grit during one of the most difficult times in the life of our nation.

Giuliani's emotional honesty was part of it. He wasn't afraid to show sorrow, and he rose to heights of eloquence time and again in his speeches and eulogies of the time. In sum, he seemed sincere and emotional without ever becoming maudlin, while preserving and conveying a sense of strength. One of the traits Americans are looking for in a President right now seems to be leadership, and Giuliani showed that trait right after 9/11 in a manner that could be felt deep within the gut.

How can McCain compete? And the MSM, in time-honored fashion, which once upon a time jumped on his bandwagon en masse, has now jumped off in unison.

Oh, can I identify: middle ages tech support

After wrestling with the transfer to my new blog site, I identify very strongly with this You Tube video on middle ages (or perhaps middle-aged) tech support. Whichever side of the tech divide you're on--the puzzled questioner or the patient explainer--it's a hoot.

Tornados and other tragedies: the accidental death of young people

Yesterday I wrote about those who purposely place children’s lives in jeopardy in war.

But children and young people also die accidently, and not only in war. Witness the twin tragedies two schools have just endured.

This morning a bus carrying the baseball team from Mennonite-affiliated Bluffton University in Ohio fell off a bridge, killing four students as well as the bus driver and his wife. And yesterday in Enterprise, Alabama, the high school roof was torn off in a direct hit by a tornado, killing eight students.

The accidental deaths of young people are always tragic, but they usually occur in a seemingly random fashion—a family is hit here, a family is hit there. But with the bus crash of a college team and the collapse of a school buidling, each institution must deal with an especially heartrending group event: the death of a number of young people at one time in a single community. And if there are opportunities for extra support because nearly everyone in that group is bereft of someone known and loved, there are also opportunities for the deepest of grief and the most anguished of questions: why?

Why us, why now, why these particular young people?

Those who are deeply religious answer one way, rationalists answer another. Thornton Wilder gave it a go in his Bridge of San Luis Rey, one of those books that used to be required reading in high schools across the land but probably aren’t any more.

I’m not going to attempt an answer; I don’t have one. But hearing about these events conjured up memories for me--in particular, the first time I ever heard of tornados.

I was very young, perhaps six years old. While watching TV one Saturday morning I saw something on the screen that caught my eye--a bunch of children laughing uproariously at a puppet show. Alone at the time, I sat down to watch, and as the plot progressed (was it a movie? a made-for-TV special? a documentary?), scenes of the laughing children were interspersed with shots of an ominous and darkening sky.

And then, in the middle of it all--boom! What turned out to be a tornado hit those happy children, killing them.

I'd experienced some tragic deaths already in my family, and perhaps that's why this program affected me so deeply. But this was the first time I was made aware of mass tragedy, and especially one involving children. The Pied Piper had made me deeply uneasy, with his luring the children of an entire town to disappear into the side of a mountain. But that was a fairy tale--and, what's more, who's to say what the children found there? Maybe they really experienced the wonderful visions the Piper had promised.

But this was different. This was no fairy tale; even though it was TV, I felt it to be real. And for some time--it seemed nearly forever, but it was probably only a couple of days, if that--I walked around gazing at the cloudy skies and wondering when the tornado would strike. The sensation was particulary vivid in school, when I looked out the window.

A teacher in whom I finally confided dispelled those thoughts by telling me in no uncertain terms, "Nothing to worry about; we don't have tornados here." And, although that turned out not to be true (as a six-year-old I didn't have Google handy to invalidate what she'd said), I breathed a sigh of relief. I was safe.

But the thought of those other children struck down in the midst of laughter remained with me, somewhere deep inside.

Such events are distinguished by their accidental and random, rather than intentional, nature. They are so-called “acts of God” (a term I dislike, not because of its religiousity but because of the image it conveys of a deity purposely wreaking havoc) as differentiated from “purposeful acts of human beings.” Nature’s fury is one thing (although, again, “fury” indicates a malevolence for which there is no evidence whatsoever), human error and/or accident is another. But both are very different from the sort of human malevolence that causes mass murder.

In that sense we can say that another tragedy (although with greater loss of life), the blasting of Pan Am Flight 103 out of the sky in 1988 over Lockerbie, Scotland, was in some ways similar to the Ohio bus crash and the Alabama tornado (or even that puppet show tornado of so long ago)--but very different in others. It is sometimes forgotten, in the much greater loss of life the Lockerbie incident involved, that thirty-five of those killed on that flight were students from a single college, Syracuse University, returning home for Christmas vacation from time spent abroad.

I vividly recall the news of the Lockerbie explosion. And later, when it was clearly determined that it was the purposeful act of terrorists--and even though I had no special interest in terrorism and no special knowledge of it at the time--the crash seemed an ominous sign of the ever-increasing ruthlessness and scope of terrorist aims.

Although all the Lockerbie deaths were horrible, amidst the general shock and mourning the deaths of the students felt especially horrific to me. Their parents’ grief seemed nearly unendurable--even when glimpsed for only a few brief moments on television.

To this day, nearly twenty years later, Syracuse holds an annual service in honor of its dead students. There’s a somber memorial there as well; I’ve been to it, while visiting a nephew who attended the school:


Time passes, and although they say it heals all wounds, I don’t think these particular wounds really heal at all; they just become less raw. My heart goes out to all who mourn--today, yesterday, and tomorrow.

[For posts on a related topic, see this and this, my series on grieving parents in war.]

Emily Litella here: never mind

Yes, your eyes are not deceiving you. I did have a post up earlier today announcing my official move to the new blog site.

But now I get to say "never mind"--at least for now. My tech support has just informed me that in the process of transferring the old posts and comments, there remain a few more glitches to be ironed out, which will delay the move a little bit.

Both sites are operational right now, however.

Weather: housebound

We're having one of those wretched winter storms in the far northeast, giving those of you who are not living here the opportunity to crow and tell me how much nicer it is where you are. Be my guest.

I tried to take some photos that conveyed how very nasty it is right now, but they just don't (of course, maybe if I suited up suitably and ventured outside to take them it would be different. But I draw the line there).

The front garden:


From the back deck (imagine lots of wind):


Not only howling wind and lots of snow, but little icy pellets on top of it. As you can see, despite the wind the trees are heavily laden, always a worrisome sight where I live because the power goes out if you so much as breath heavily and/or a feather drops on a tree limb.

I'm planning to post on the new blogsite later today. If I don't, it will mean I'm sitting here powerless in the cold and the dark, with only my ipod and a candle to keep me company.

[ADDENDUM: By the way, this site is now officially on New Blogger, for all you techies out there. The transfer was relatively smooth.]

Strategies for children (Part II): killing them

[Part I, "saving them," is here.]

Children are the future of any society. This makes them a double-edged sword: since most cultures are devoted to the protection and nurturance of their own children, most societies are uniquely vulnerable when those children are threatened; and therefore children can become effective weapons, tools, and hostages.

Today we see an increasing number of children used as soldiers in the traditional sense, especially in Africa. This strange phenomenon is only possible because advances in weaponry make physical strength far less necessary now than it was in the days of Achilles and Hector. But soldiering itself is by no means the only use of children in war.

Children have often been unintended victims in modern wars which (since World War II) have been fought not only on battlefields (now almost obsolete) but through aerial bombardments that have become more and more refined but still unavoidably kill many noncombatants. During World War II children were never purposely targeted (except, of course, by the Nazis when they killed disabled children and Jewish children in an effort to eliminate those groups). So, although plenty of children died during World War II, most of them were considered regrettable collateral casualties of the technique of total war that featured attacks on civilian populations.

In addition, during World War II children were never purposely placed in harm's way by their respective countries--except for Germany and Japan, who needed to recruit younger and younger soldiers as the war went on and their populations of available young men were greatly reduced. But this recruitment was done with reluctance, and was a measure of a desperate situation rather than a decision that drafting children would be a good strategic move in and of itself. The above lithograph, made by the German graphic artist Käthe Kollwitz in 1942--the last one she ever completed--was entitled "Seed Corn Must Not Be Ground," a quote from Goethe referencing the fact that children represent the future and cannot be cannibalized by the present if a society wishes to prosper.

But Islamic totalitarians and terrorists have gone beyond the use of children as conventional fighters, or the killing of the enemy's children in acts of war that have other intended targets or strategic purposes. Islamic totalitarians and terrorists have not invented the practice of purposely using their own children as perpetrators and tools, to be sure; a precedent occurred during the Vietnam War, for example, when children were pressed into service to throw grenades and to lure GIs into various traps. But they have certainly raised it to a fine art.

This fact raises a terrible and ironic paradox: this phenomenon can only arise in a war against a humane fighting force. The value of using children in this way comes solely from the fact that the soldiers involved would hesitate to kill the children deliberately, and would feel terrible guilt about doing so--and he who hesitates is often lost. So, the more humanely a fighting force operates, it seems that the more likely it will be to encounter an enemy willing to sacrifice its own children in an attempt to foil that enemy.

Golda Meir famously said: Peace will come when the Arabs will love their children more than they hate us. And if "love" can be measured as the desire to protect from harm, it could be argued that at this point Israeli society "loves" Palestinian children more than the Palestinians themselves do, since the Israelis kill them only reluctantly, and Palestinians send them and encourage them to purposely kill and be killed (sometimes both simultaneously). I've written about this phenomenon before, likening the Palestinians to the Pied Piper, luring their own children to seek death while promising them beautiful rewards.

It's an almost inescapable but horrifying conclusion that if US and Israeli and other fighting forces were less intent on protecting children, fewer children would be purposely sent into harm's way by the fanatics of the Moslem world. And, likewise, if the western MSM were not so intent on publicizing their deaths and criticizing those who kill them more than than they criticize the people who send those children out to be killed, the propaganda value in the West of the whole operation would be nil, and there probably would be less reason for the adults to put them in harm's way. This represents a conundrum of major proportions.

Of course, their killings would still retain propaganda value in the Arab world; the deaths of children are excellent for stirring up rage against the West in the so-called Arab street; just watch al Jazeera if you don't think so. Thus we have the strange (and, I believe, unprecedented) phenomenon of leaders who sacrifice their own society's children in order to inflame their own populace against an enemy. This could not be done without the cooperation of the mass media in those countries.

But the violent use of children by Islamist totalitarians and terrorists is hardly limited to the above. They also know that most societies--and Israel is certainly an example of this--love their own children and are especially outraged and wounded by their deaths. And so, in recent years, Israeli children have been purposely targeted more and more in suicide bombings. My own recollection of the beginning of this particular strategy was the Sbarro pizza bombing of August 2001, in the first year of the bloody second intifada (and if you follow that link and scroll down a bit you'll find some moving photos and short biographies of the victims of that bombing).

At the time, it seemed an odd and ominous--and puzzling--turn of events to target a pizza place, where families and children were likely to congregate. Now, of course, we've lost whatever innocence we had back then about the intentions of an attack such as this, or its frequency; it now seems to be business as usual, losing none of its horror but most of its surprise through frequent repetition.

What’s the point of such an act? The point, or course, is terror; there are few things more heartbreaking to a society than the loss of its children, and it can demoralize a country.

But terror of this nature—or any nature—is a double-edged sword. The London blitz during World War II, for example, probably served more to stiffen the spine of the British than to cause them to lose heart and think about giving up. The more implacable and heartless an enemy seems to be, the more hated it can become, and the more the public might become mobilized and energized to fight that enemy.

Although aerial bombardment of civilians occurred prior to World War II, it came of age during that conflict and was heavily used by both sides. Some of the bombardment was strategic and aimed at military and industrial targets, but some (on both sides--and the extent of this is on our side a hotly contested issue) was definitely aimed at weakening the will of the civilian population to fight (and see this, an interesting discussion of how the factor of civilian expectations play into this calculus). But no aerial bombardment specially targeted children. At any rate the technique of aerial bombing now has become so refined now that casualties are relatively limited compared to the bad days of World War II.

It appears that modern warfare of the insurgency/terrorist variety, particularly in the Arab world, has brought new features to the use of children's lives as pawns and consolidated some old ones. Advancements in the humaneness of warfare by the West have had the paradoxical effect of leading to a war in which that morality is turned on its head and used against those countries who attempt to practice it.

What's the answer to the dilemma? There is no good one, I'm afraid. The desire to be humane is at odds with the waging of war itself, it would seem. But even that answer --the answer given by pacifists, which is to avoid war--is no solution at all, and allows the strong and immoral to dominate the weak and moral (see this for my thoughts on the subject). Even the international rules of war are designed for a different place and a different time, and for an enemy playing a different game.

Sanity Squad podcast: movies, culture, abortion

The Squad's new podcast uses the Oscars as a springboard to ponder the influence the movies have had on culture, sexuality, politics, and our perception of history. This segues into a consideration of abortion on demand's effect on society and on the individual.

Join my inimitable Squad colleagues Shrink, Siggy, and Dr. Sanity in our usual freewheeling (and, no doubt, fascinating) discussion.

New blog glitches: oh, how I love this technical stuff!

Surprise, surprise--the course of designing a new blog never did run smooth (I'm still feeling a trifle Shakespearean, I guess). There'll be a bit of a delay with the new blog's official grand opening while I iron out (or attempt to iron out) some glitches.

Some people have said they are being stopped from commenting on the new blog. Others have complained about problems with the RSS feed. I think I may have fixed the problem that was stopping the commenting, and will be working on the other. I encourage all of you to visit and try to comment: please let me know if you experience any problems.

Due to these technical difficulties and general busyness, "Strategies for Children (Part II): killing them" will be delayed till tomorrow.

Talking to Iran: don't want to stink up the place

I heard the news with surprise on the radio: the Bush administration has announced that the US will participate in talks with Iran and Syria.

That seemed awfully odd to me, given the administration's previous declarations that this will not happen. And, although politicians are notorious for changing their minds depending on which way the wind is blowing--and although not all changes of mind are bad ones, by any means--this one made me very suspicious, indeed (see this for my discussion on talking with Iran).

The money quote from that post is here:

If by "talk" you mean threats with a big stick to back them up, I'm all for talking. But...[t]he talks that are proposed [at the time the post was written] are to elicit Iran's cooperation in covering a planned retreat from Iraq, to "stabilize" the country. The only stabilization Iran is interested in there is stabilization under Iran's thumb, and they will say anything and do anything to get it. Thus talks are inherently duplicitous and counterproductive.

So, if the present proposed talks contain two elements: (1) a strategically viable "big stick" threat from the US; and (2) Iran's awareness that the talks are not a cover for a planned precipitous US retreat from Iraq--then I think talking to Iran and Syria would not be a particularly dangerous thing to do. Although I still doubt the productivity of any such talks, they would no longer be especially risky, as long as we remain realistic about their chances of success, and continue to pressure Iran in other ways.

Whether these two needed elements are fully in place right now, I'm not sure. The second one appears to be--albeit weakly, albeit temporarily--since the antiwar resolution advocates in Congress don't seem to be winning out (yet). But there's no pretense of a united front on that score, either, and Iran knows that.

As for the first element, take a look at this. It's a very promising development I first heard about at a lecture I attended a couple of months ago: a new form of economic sanctions (under the umbrella of that favorite bete noir of liberals and the Left, the Patriot Act, which appears to be doing some good, after all). The economic effects of these sanctions have already been felt by both Iran and North Korea. Hmmm. Previously (as the article points out), sanctions have been relatively feeble and toothless, but these seem to have a bit of a bite.

Good.

Another point is that the proposed talks are not just between the US, Iran, and Syria. They involve twenty key countries in the region including Iran and Syria. The goal is, apparently, to improve Iraq's relations in the area as a whole, and the US is attending in deference to Iraq's need to establish regional credibility, not necessarily to do a whole lot of negotiating with Iran and Syria.

In a delicate metaphor, Jon Alterman, of the Center for Strategic and International Studies in Washington says:

The [Bush] administration is still skeptical, but they were not going to be the skunk at the garden party and say we are not going at all.

So, let's retain our skepticism, have some tea and some cucumber sandwiches, and talk.

Who says kids have gone soft?

As you can plainly see, they're still pretty tough in New England:

Strategies for children: (Part I) saving them

[This is the first of a two-part series. Tomorrow Part II, "killing them," will appear.]

Last night I was working at my computer when I got a call from a friend telling me to turn on my TV and watch the Oprah Winfrey special called "Building a Dream."

I don't watch much TV to begin with, and Oprah isn't usually on my list. But I trust this friend so I turned it on, even though I'd missed the first twenty minutes. And within a few moments I was surprised to find tears streaming down my cheeks.

The premise? The plans began five years ago, when Oprah went to South Africa to build a boarding school (grades 7-12) for girls who'd shown special scholarship and leadership abilities. These were not children of the elite; she combed the countryside to find girls in out-of-the-way places, children of poverty who'd known terrible privation and yet hadn't been beaten down by it--yet.

Oprah's idea was to make sure that never happened, and in doing so she believes the project could have a transformative effect on the next generation of the whole country--Oprah thinks big. There's no doubt there's something to what she's saying; children are the future of any society and as they go, so goes the nation.

Oprah's got money, scads of it, so she spared no expense in constructing a school with 28 buildings, and began a process that would ultimately select the 152 young girls who would be the members of its first class.

And it was those girls who were the stars of this show, the ones who caused my tears. You can take a look at Oprah's (rather simplistic) website for some information and photos, but I urge you to watch the repeat of the show (I can't believe I'm doing this!), which airs the evening of March 3 on ABC at either 8 or 9 PM (check your local listings).

What was it about these children that was so moving--and yes, so inspiring? Even though they were individuals--some fat, some thin, some quiet, some talkative, some pretty, some plain--they all shared a common charactistic that is actually quite uncommon, at least in my experience, a trait not usually seen in girls in their early teens. They showed remarkable poise and self-possession without a hint of obnoxious arrogance, a sweetness combined with a steely strength. All were well-spoken and almost superhumanly polite, obviously intelligent, with a maturity not only beyond their years, but beyond the years of most people on earth even if they lived to be 100. And yet somehow they retained the lightheartedness of children.

These girls have known hardship, all right. There are Lincolnesque scenes of doing homework by candlelight, no running water, primitive outhouses. And material privations are not the only ones they've experienced; far worse is the amount of violence and death--particularly of parents--in their young lives. But even as they describe these things there is a reluctance to consider themselves victims--or, as one girl, Lesego, says, in her lilting, musical voice (speaking of herself in the third person, but charmingly rather than obnoxiously), "Lesego is a fighter and she'll never give up."

When you hear her say this, you believe it's not just idle boasting. In fact, it's not boasting at all, just a simple statement of fact. She's been through enough already to know whereof she speaks.

There's a famous statement by Ernest Hemingway: The world breaks everyone, and afterwards, many are strong at the broken places." These children are among that "many."

What has given them their phenomenal strength? That certain something is mysterious, but from studies of so-called "resilient" children (also see this), we've learned that it usually includes the loving support of at least one adult. Often, in these cases, it's a grandmother, something Oprah (and I) can identify with. Resilient children also probably have some innate personality traits that predispose them to doing well despite the odds: they usually possess a naturally optimistic and outgoing personality, for starters.

These girls appear to fall into that category. Despite their losses, they all seem to have at least one loving adult in their lives (perhaps even a village of them). You can see it in their faces when they bid good-bye and leave for the school; there are heartfelt tears there. But they know they are going on to a place that will give them opportunities they may have dreamed of, but were impossible--till now.

There's a celebrity presence at the ceremony for the opening of the school. Besides Oprah, of course, there's Nelson Mandela, as well as the usual Hollywood biggies (Spike Lee, Sidney Portier). But the true celebrities are the shining faces of these girls, standing proud and as tall as they possibly can (maybe even taller) in their new uniforms.

The new blog: move imminent!

I know, I know--I've been saying I'm going to move for a long time now. But it really should be happening very soon--perhaps even tomorrow.

This is the URL of the new blog. Please bookmark it, if you haven't already.

At first, not everything on the new blog will be in its final state. So please bear with me. The blogroll there, for example, is rudimentary, as are a number of other things, and they may take a while to fine tune.

I am also planning to duplicate virtually all the posts on this blog on the new blog, and that won't be done right away, either. For that transfer to take place, this blog will have to go from what's called "Old Blogger" to "New Blogger," among other things. That transition is supposed to go smoothly, and if it does, you won't notice any changes on this blog; it should look the same. We'll see.

The end result--and this could take quite a few weeks to complete--will be that this blog will remain as is, and no more new postings will take place on it. But it will still be possible to read the old ones here. The new blog will go forward with all the new posts, but all the old ones will be imported there, as well.

In addition, there will be an index system on the new blog. All new posts--and, ultimately, all of the old ones from here--will be categorized. For example, if you wanted to take a look at all my posts on "dance," you could just go to that category and you'd find the list of links to all my posts on that subject.

Other improvements (at least, I hope they'll be improvements!) will be happening there as time goes on. But in the meantime, it should be quite functional.

Impending move to new URL

[I'm going to keep putting this post at the top of the page until I actually make the move.]

Here is the URL of the soon-to-be-unveiled new home of my blog. It's getting closer to being ready.

Lieberman: carrying that big stick

Senator Lieberman has had a strange year. His ostracism from the Democratic Party failed to stop his re-election, and has paradoxically put him in a stronger position than ever--although, for many reasons, I doubt he'll ever hold national office, even were he to switch parties.

In such an evenly divided Senate he holds the threat of upsetting the balance between the parties were Joe--now an Independent (like me!)--to defect. Despite the fact that he votes with the Republicans on security issues, he's still not officially tied to them, and thus the Democrats hold onto their slim majority and their power over all the committees. Lieberman's rejection by his fellow-Democrats has bought him a certain amount of freedom--and potential power to gum up the works and rain on the Democratic parade, were he to make an outright switch to Republican, a possiblity he has wisely refused to rule out.

With that in mind, Lieberman has written an appeal to Congress. It appeared in today's Opinion Journal, explaining exactly what's at stake and why members of Congress needs to focus on reality instead of playing petty games. The tone strikes me as reasonable and measured, practical and realistic. But it's backed up with an implicit threat of Lieberman's power of defection, nowhere mentioned in the piece:

What is remarkable about this state of affairs in Washington is just how removed it is from what is actually happening in Iraq. There, the battle of Baghdad is now under way. A new commander, Gen. David Petraeus, has taken command, having been confirmed by the Senate, 81-0, just a few weeks ago. And a new strategy is being put into action, with thousands of additional American soldiers streaming into the Iraqi capital.

Congress thus faces a choice in the weeks and months ahead. Will we allow our actions to be driven by the changing conditions on the ground in Iraq--or by the unchanging political and ideological positions long ago staked out in Washington? What ultimately matters more to us: the real fight over there, or the political fight over here?

I fear if the truth be known that many in Congress would answer: the latter.

Lieberman then goes on to detail the differences between the new approach and the old. He agrees that there's no way of guaranteeing the former's success, but:

We are now in a stronger position to ensure basic security--and with that, we are in a stronger position to marginalize the extremists and strengthen the moderates; a stronger position to foster the economic activity that will drain the insurgency and militias of public support; and a stronger position to press the Iraqi government to make the tough decisions that everyone acknowledges are necessary for progress.

Unfortunately, for many congressional opponents of the war, none of this seems to matter. As the battle of Baghdad just gets underway, they have already made up their minds about America's cause in Iraq, declaring their intention to put an end to the mission before we have had the time to see whether our new plan will work.

True, and very shortsighted, as well as cowardly. Lieberman points out their basic lack of bravery in refusing to do what they should do if they really believe what they say: cut the funding. Instead, they are proposing the death of a thousand cuts--the "slow bleed."

Lieberman again:

Many of the worst errors in Iraq arose precisely because the Bush administration best-cased what would happen after Saddam was overthrown. Now many opponents of the war are making the very same best-case mistake--assuming we can pull back in the midst of a critical battle with impunity, even arguing that our retreat will reduce the terrorism and sectarian violence in Iraq.

Lieberman then appeals to his colleagues to give peace a chance--peace in Congress, that is. He asks for a moratorium on political squabbling till the end of summer, in order to give General Petraeus and the plan some time to begin to prove itself, or not.

My guess is that his pleas will fall on deaf ears. But don't forget--Lieberman may be walking softly, but he's carrying a big stick--the stick of his potential defection.

Words to the wise

I had Chinese food for lunch, and this was my fortune:

Wise men learn more from fools than fools learn from the wise.

Which may actually have been one of the deeper fortune cookies I've ever gotten.

Random Oscar notes

Okay, so I watched the Oscars. In addition to observing the usual self-congratulatory self-righteousness from the very rich and very famous, I observed what's far more important, of course: the fashions.

Since I've seen none of the movies except "Dreamgirls," I had no dogs in most of those races--nor have I really cared much about the Oscars even when I did go to the movies far more often. But fashion and hair--ah, that's another story!

A small digression and small confession: when I was about eleven, I wanted to be a hairdresser (that was a few years after I'd given up my dream to become a roller derby star--but more about that, perhaps, another time). When I announced my hair salon aspirations to my mother she was a bit distressed, "Don't you think that would be--ummm--wasting your mind?" I eventually abandoned the idea, but not after spending quite a bit of time in high school and college cutting friends' hair and applying their makeup for proms and special occasions.

And so you're reading the observations of a semipro here, although a very outdated one. And I'm happy to report that this year's fashions (guys, are you still with me?--thought not) were better than in recent years that had featured the sloppy nightgown look. The gowns this year erred in the other direction: very tightly constructed, almost trussed (although what these skinny ladies need trussing for I'll never know). But rather pretty and much more elegant.

Ann Althouse described Nicole Kidman's dress as "all plastic-y and shiny. She's wearing an impossibly tall, thin red dress." True; she looked less like a human than like a walking larger-than-life Barbie. She's a woman with an unusual body to begin with--very broad shoulders and narrow hips--and her dress emphasized the broadness of the former and the narrowness of the latter (no, it's not just envy speaking and being critical--oh, well, maybe just a teeny tiny bit).

Diane Keaton looked oddly severe; but she's always been a very eccentric dresser. Also, she looked rail thin, which I don't remember before. In fact, "rail thin" was very much in evidence in general; did you take a good look at Kate Blanchett's extra shoulder bones, the little ones that stick up when a person goes down to starvation weight? None of that for Jennifer Hudson, who seemed very revved up, but in a manner that seemed natural for an excited young newcomer.

Helen Mirren set a subdued and dignified tone for the Woman of Certain Age (after all, she played a queen). A bit monochrome for my tastes, though. Al Gore--well, he continues to look stuffy, but he actually did a funny bit when his "announcement" was drowned out by the "time to go" music.

As for Jack Nicholson--whom I think long ago became a parody of himself, a self that was already dangerously close to parody even at the outset--he looked bizarre. The camera kept going to him--why, I don't know: celebrity? disbelief? awe? disgust? To me he looked like a cross between Daddy Warbucks and Lex Luther, but even that is being kind.

I don't get Leonardo di Caprio. A good actor who absolutely doesn't interest me, and he looks like an eternal boy. Peter O'Toole, a good actor who does interest me, looked so shockingly old and frail that I didn't recognize him until he was identified. I've always liked Forrest Whitaker, and his speech seemed very genuine. I want to ask Martin Scorcese to take off the Groucho disguise, but I'm too polite to do so.

And I'd like some information on whatever it is that Catherine Deneuve's been doing to keep herself looking forever young. Of course, it doesn't hurt to start out gorgeous, but that's no guarantee that you'll stay that way, as she has.

Enough fluff, don't you think?