Coulda appended this to the earlier post, but that one was already long enough, and it’s Steyn, so you know I’ll be excerpting the living hell out of it, taxing poor old “fair use” to within an inch of its life.
Back then, there were lots of 32-year-old men chasing 19-year-old girls – the Prince of Wales and Lady Diana Spencer, to cite only the most obvious example. It was a common plot in big worldwide hits: When the Oscar-winning Best Picture An American in Paris was shot, Leslie Caron was 19, and Gene Kelly was pushing 40; when the original Broadway production of My Fair Lady opened, Julie Andrews was 19, and Rex Harrison was pushing 50. You can’t find a single contemporary review of either that so much as notices the age difference. My old friend Alan Jay Lerner authored both scripts and won Oscars and Tonys respectively, and, as a practical matter, it was the only plot he knew how to write: My Fair Lady (1956) – older, sophisticated, mature bachelor takes young unformed girl in hand and moulds her; Gigi (1958) – older, sophisticated, mature bachelor takes young unformed girl, etc, etc; Lolita, My Love (1971) – older, sophisticated mature, etc, etc, etc …ah, but that was one reprise too many of “Thank Heaven for Little Girls”.
As Alabama’s most eligible bachelor, Roy Moore liked nubile young women, and nubile means “marriageable” (from the Latin, nubilis). Indeed, he eventually married one of them – the aforementioned client of barristerial Jewry. Today, in the western world, nubile girls are no longer regarded as marriageable: They’re supposed to go to college and think about settling down and having one yuppie designer kid when they’re 39. I see I’m in danger of connecting Roy Moore to my big-picture demographic thesis, so let me just note that the chattering classes’ conviction that dating teenage girls makes one a paedo doesn’t seem to extend to the expanding cohort of Muslim politicians: David Cameron’s Islamic poster-gal Baroness Warsi was married at 19 to her Pakistani cousin.
Strictly on the merits, the original Washington Post story would have been better solely focused on the fourteen-year-old accuser, but they – and much of the coastal commentariat – couldn’t resist what the locals evidently discerned as a not so subtle dig at Alabama mores more generally. Unfortunately for him, Moore lacks the nimbleness of Donald Trump, who can skip through fields of lethal mines like a frog skimming lily pads without a care in the world. For all the talk of the new populism, it’s worth remembering that the Trump of 2015 is not of general application: he was a unique combination of brilliant instinct, low cunning, and a celebrity status that made him all but indestructible to the usual cannily timed “dirty tricks” – which is what the Moore story, like the Billy Bush tape, was.
Nonetheless, Moore lost narrowly enough to suggest that it wasn’t the accusations that did him in. He could have survived those, just about. What killed him was that he was running against both the Democrats and the Republicans – including Alabama’s own senior senator, Richard Shelby. (Trump post-Billy Bush was in a similar position, as the likes of Paul Ryan, Kelly Ayotte, etc, stampeded to distance themselves.) But Roy Moore was the nominee only because the smart guys over-invested in Luther Strange (just as in 2015 they over-invested in Jeb Bush).
And they’re still pissed off about that, too, and intend to have their revenge. Moore was but a down-payment on it, and now that they see how well their smear campaign worked out, the already-slim chance of Trump getting much of his agenda past them just dropped to near zero.
But don’t worry, say the usual geniuses: Doug Jones is just this season’s Scott Brown. As Massachusetts did with Elizabeth Warren, Alabama will return to the natural order of things in 2020. Well, maybe. But, as we’ve just seen, the one thing you can take to the bank is the Stupid Party’s unerring knack to out-stupid themselves. In the meantime, a Congressional majority already vulnerable to the monstrous egos of John McCain, Susan Collins et al just got shaved to a micro-sliver: Mike Pence is going to be spending a lot of time at the Senate casting the deciding vote – assuming, that is, McConnell has any legislation he can actually get to the floor.
Assuming he even WANTS to, more like.
A final thought on Moore: Yes, he’s a kook, and an insufficiently nimble one to dodge the incoming schoolgirls. But as I wrote three months ago:
Whatever one feels about Roy Moore, he’s principled enough to be willing to lose his job over the Ten Commandments and same-sex marriage. That’s unusual in American politics.
I’ll say. Listening to Doug Jones’ victory speech, I found my heart sinking under the weight of all the usual tinny boilerplate, culminating inevitably in that most exhausted invocation of Martin Luther King and the arc of the moral universe bending toward justice, which was in fact formulated not by King but by the 19th-century abolitionist Theodore Parker. But Obama had it sewn on an Oval Office rug and no Dem is gonna argue with that. Jones seemed the very epitome of the hollow men of the professional political class. He’ll fit right in.
By contrast, Moore may be a kook, but he’s authentic. Listening to the outrage he’s able to provoke merely by sounding like Jesse Helms’ simpleton brother, I found myself pondering how far the GOP has gone in a generation – to the point where Moore is getting berated by Republicans for being insufficiently keen on gay sex. That’s all very well, but it does rather give the impression that the GOP is merely the Democrats a couple of electoral cycles down the road, and that circa 2025 some Dixie troglodyte will be getting slapped around by the right-wing punditry for objecting to transgendered chiefs of staff or whatever.
Let ’em go right ahead; they’ve long been quite comfortable with their role as surreptitious background aides to the Democrat Socialists, and that they can remain for all me. It was still kind of shocking to me to see them actually gloating openly over a fucking defeat, but it really shouldn’t have been. Nice thing is, their having come out into the open so brazenly can only be a good thing. Such exposure of their core treachery will surely drive more people away from their worthless party, thereby hastening its overdue demise.
For myself, I said a long time ago that I was all done with the Repukes, and other than Trump, I still very much mean it. They are and will remain dead to me, along with the whole passel of UniTard cucks at NRO, Bill Kristol, and the rest of the sorry-ass lot of them (confession: I made the mistake of looking in on the Corner today just out of curiosity, to my immediate regret; it’s a mistake I ain’t likely to be making again). With this nasty business, we’re back to the old anti-GOP war-cry: Burn. It. Down.
And fast, too. The sooner the Repuke Swamp frauds are forced to reveal themselves fully and just merge outright with the Democrat Socialists, the sooner the rest of us can get a true opposition party established, and perhaps make a start on reining in their beloved Deep State at last. I can’t say I consider it at all likely, but it would be wonderful and inspiring if Trump decided to run for re-election as a third-party candidate; he’s probably the right guy for that job too, and it ain’t as if he has to take the Repukes fighting against his agenda into consideration, since they’re already doing that anyway.
Go for it, Mr President. As a friend of mine says, you gotta cut the grass to see the snakes.
Update! Why yes, they do hate you this much.
When Moore unexpectedly defeated the vanilla Alabama Republican Establishment candidate, Luther Strange, McConnell and the GOP elite were put on notice. They threw everything they could at Moore. It was Mitch McConnell and the Republican elite who first put the media on to these unsubstantiated rumors about Roy Moore—just as it was the Republican Establishment that put the FBI and media onto the fictitious Trump-Russia “collusion” dossier in the summer of 2016. These Republican “leaders” will brook no compromise with their own base if it means empowering people who might threaten their little fiefdoms in Washington, D.C.
The entire Alabama special election was a case study in how the Permanent Bipartisan Fusion Partyhates the average American. The GOPe understands that any Republican candidate will win Alabama when the senate seat is yet again up-for-grabs. But very few Republican candidates will actually fight to protect the middle class and against their donor interests as Moore would have done. This is the true reason they are happy to be rid of him. The GOPe is firmly in the hands of their corporate masters, which is why they fought so vociferously to get a Democrat elected in Alabama. This was about defeating you first, so that they can put their preferred Republican globalist candidate in office at the next election.
Still don’t believe the bipartisan fusion party hates you? Listen to Doug Jones’ acceptance speech. While celebrating his victory last night, Jones made the dubious claim that his election represented a historical fork-in-the-road for Alabama. Finally, according to Jones, Alabama had taken the correct turn at this fork by electing him, because so often Alabamians had taken the wrong path. They can rest easy, I suppose, knowing that now they have Doug Jones there to tell them all about their wrong choices. Here we have an elected official describing the way in which the state that just elected him is an embarrassment to him. Why, we haven’t experienced a Democratic leader who hates his own population this much since…well, since the Obama Administration!
And what can the overwhelmingly Republican voters of Alabama expect? An ungodly assault on children, as Jones supports the most aggressive pro-abortion policies. They can also anticipate a complete stall in Trump’s governing agenda, as the Republican majority in the Senate is narrowed to just one seat. Alabama voters essentially will get two years of everything they’ve always disagreed with. But, hey you’ve squelched a sexual predator (or did you?)! Everyone should feel good about Doug Jones’ victory last night. Chuck Schumer certainly does. So, too, does the mainstream media. Hell, even Mitch McConnell is happy. If that doesn’t show you how dangerous the Establishment is, I don’t know what will.
It also shows us that, though staggered by the unexpected roundhouse punch of Trump’s election, they’re still on their feet. They aren’t quite done yet, and will NOT be going gently into that good night. A mere TKO won’t suffice; they’ll have to be knocked OUT, flat on their backs on the canvas showing nary a twitch of movement, and a full ten-count issued.
Their revolting display today illustrates why I’ve said for a goodish while that I consider the Repukes to be even more despicable than the Democrat Socialists. The DS’s are now pretty much up-front about their Marxist fervor for wrapping the tentacles of government around every facet of American life, never to be removed or loosened. The Repukes, on the other hand, still hope to deceive with a lot of fraudulent blah blah blah about their desire to limit government, cut spending, and so on, not one word of which they have any intention whatsoever of delivering on.
No, they like their Deep State, their DC Swamp, just fine, thanks. And they absolutely will not countenance any sincere attempt at dismantling or draining it without a fight. Make no mistake, people: they’ll do battle against us one hell of a lot harder than they ever will their Uniparty comrades and co-conspirators, the Democrat Socialists. After all, that’s a fight their hearts are truly IN.
Lots of folks, even some otherwise well-meaning ones, are piling on Bannon right now over his choice to pick a fight with swamp-snake McConnell, and announcing it in broad daylight. But it was the right choice, and the right fight. His only error was in believing that McConnell was weaker than he actually is. Like any other vampire, Yertle McTurtle has plenty of tricks up his sleeve, plenty of power left and decades of DC career-politician experience to ensure he deftly wields it. It’s going to require one heck of a struggle before he finally goes down for good.
A mere stake in the heart ain’t gonna do it, see. You gotta lop off the head too, then burn the corpse and scatter the ashes. It’s the only way to be sure.