Advanced Search books The Future of the gop chatterbox

Never mind that Craig pled guilty, humiliated himself, and double-crossed his state: As a member of Congress, he is guaranteed the right to keep spending under the Speech, Debate, and Earmark Clause of the Constitution. That means the senator can get back to more conventional hypocrisies, like sponsoring balanced-budget amendments while boasting about bringing home the bacon.

After three decades of pork, what does an appropriator choose as his final special favors? Most of the 22 items on Craig's list are standard fare: $200,000 for a "gravity pressure delivery system"; $4 million for "vacuum sampling pathogen collection"; $1.5 million for "coordination, facilitation, administrative support, and cost-shared weed control."

But in his swan song, Craig has graciously offered to cooperate with the authorities. According to the Taxpayers for Common Sense earmark database, he found $1 million so the Idaho State Police can improve "criminal information sharing." He earmarked another $100,000 for the Idaho Department of Corrections to take part in the National Consortium of Offender Management Systems.

While there's irony in every earmark, these are rich indeed. Craig was banking on the poor quality of criminal information sharing when he pled guilty in August and assumed the people of Idaho would never find out. As he told the Idaho Statesman in April, "I don't go around anywhere hitting on men, and by God, if I did, I wouldn't do it in Boise, Idaho! Jiminy!"

If anywhere needs an upgrade in "offender management," the Republican caucus might be a good place to start. The right to keep earmarking gives Craig an excuse to pretend nothing ever happened, issuing self-serving press statements like this one: "I'm very pleased with the level of support the Senate has shown for these Idaho projects, which will help our law enforcement agencies improve their efforts to protect our children and share information."

Meanwhile, Craig's colleagues in the Senate are forced to clean up after him. For example, the Commerce-Justice-State appropriations bill includes a $200,000 earmark for Minneapolis-St. Paul "to create an electronic charging process to allow for electronic signature of court charging documents."

When Craig filled out his guilty plea, he had to mail it in. Now his lawyers are trying to argue that he was deprived of due process because no judge was present to make sure Craig knew what he was doing.

Perhaps the new electronic system can solve that problem, by asking defendants to check a box accepting that their political life is over. Thanks to Craig, guilty parties won't have to wait in line at the Republican convention. … 2:08 P.M. (link)

Monday, Oct. 29, 2007

Cry Me a Lawyer: Last month, I lamented that Larry Craig "has more lawyers than a Boston Legal washroom." I spoke too soon. In the latest sign of Idaho's growing cultural influence, the writers at ABC's Boston Legal have ripped another plot from the headlines and put William Shatner's character, Denny Crane, in Larry Craig's shoes. According to longtime Idaho reporter Randy Stapilus and the Web site Spoilerfix, two undercover cops accuse Denny Crane of soliciting restroom sex in the Nov. 13 episode, "Oral Contracts."

Spoilerfix doesn't reveal any other parallels between Denny Crane and Larry Craig, except for one: No matter the outcome of his case, Crane plans to remain in the job for the rest of the season. You don't have to be Al Gore to win an Emmy.

Beyond the superficial similarity of the names Denny Crane and Larry Craig, it's easy to see why the show's writers couldn't resist the temptation to exploit the longest running joke of the fall season. Denny Crane is a classic Hollywood conservative, who joins Stephen Colbert, Thurston Howell III, Alex Keaton, and Krusty the Clown on Wikipedia's list of "Fictional United States Republicans." TV conservatives always play the part for laughs; Craig plays it straight, with the same result.

In this case, fiction cannot be stranger than truth, but perhaps it will be more revealing. Spoilerfix says Alan Shore (James Spader) will defend Crane, so we'll finally get a glimpse of how a spirited defense might have sounded if Craig hadn't pled guilty. Of course, unlike Craig, Crane has five ex-wives and several co-workers who can vouch for his womanizing. He also has better writers, who won't humiliate him with Craig lines like "Jiminy!" and "Oh, crimey!"

Spoilerfix doesn't say whether Crane's restroom encounter is a one-off deal or will come back to haunt him. The site says that in the next week's episode, Shatner's character tries to join the National Guard, but is rejected. Craig knows the feeling. In 1972, the Guard discharged him after six months for an unspecified "physical disqualification." Ironically, Craig told the Idaho Statesman his ailment was "flat feet."

Not to be outdone, Craig's office announced last week that his if-I-only-had-a-lawyer routine was itself a fiction. Back in September, days after the scandal first broke, the press reported that Craig was hiring Michael Vick's attorney, Billy Martin. But now a Craig spokesman admits that it was the other way around—Michael Vick hired Larry Craig's lawyer. Martin, a renowned criminal defense lawyer, has been working for Craig since February, four months before the senator's arrest. Throughout that same period, Craig also has been paying PR consultant Judy Smith, who has done work for Rep. William Jefferson, Clarence Thomas, and Monica Lewinsky.

Craig's spokesman insists the senator never spoke to Martin about his arrest. Craig did call Martin the day he head-faked his intent to resign, but dialed the wrong number and left a voicemail for "Billy" on the answering machine of a woman named Alice.

Like their client, Martin and Smith haven't exactly been forthcoming. In the brief he wrote on Craig's behalf, asking a judge to withdraw the guilty plea on the grounds that the senator "did not exercise his right to counsel," Martin didn't bother to tell the court that he was already working as Craig's criminal defense counsel at the time. On Sept. 1, Smith wrote a highly misleading press release that declared, "Today, Senator Larry Craig announced that he has retained Washington DC attorney Billy Martin as legal counsel"—even though Craig had actually retained him seven months earlier.

Some have criticized Craig for paying Martin and Smith out of his campaign funds. But I'm all for it. The more he drains that account, the more certain we can be that he'll never run again. And if the past few months are any indication of the kind of press and legal representation Craig gets, even with professional help, he'd better spend it all. ... 1:19 P.M. (link)

Monday, Oct. 22, 2007

Kids Say the Darnedest Things: When Republican presidential candidates flocked to Washington this weekend to pander to evangelical conservatives, none could quite match Phyllis Schlafly, who challenged activists to ask where candidates stand on schools that "promote Islam or homosexuality." The very same day, in a parallel universe, J. K. Rowling told New Yorkers that Harry Potter was Christian allegory and schoolmaster Albus Dumbledore was gay. For the Schlafly wing of the Republican Party, the revised enemies list is now Islam, homosexuality, and a new He Who Shall Not Be Named.

Soon, Republican candidates will be jousting to prove they've been with Slytherin all along. Thompson will boast that he's the real conservative because he never appeared in a single Potter movie. Huckabee will note that his band plays songs with lyrics from C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien, not J. K. Rowling. Giuliani will insist that his expedient embrace of the Dumbledore agenda makes him the strongest choice to try to stop Hermione in the end.

When the far right starts demanding book burnings, however, one Republican campaign will have more trouble than usual falling in line. Evangelical conservatives can see for themselves on Tagg Romney's MySpace page: He not only includes the Harry Potter series on his list of favorite books (along with Battlefield Earth and The Book of Mormon), but he singles it out as "my guilty pleasure."

Tagg doesn't explain why he feels that way. But in his defense, he has lots of company on MySpace. A quick Google search turns up a young woman from the Southeast who shares Tagg's taste in music (Billy Joel), movies (Band of Brothers, Saving Private Ryan), politicians (Mitt Romney), and books: "Anything politically related with a right-wing slant. John Grisham is brilliant. Harry Potter is my guilty pleasure." She also likes blackjack, "bar hopping," frozen daiquiris, Tom Tancredo, and Ron Paul—but unlike Tagg, she has found the good sense to change the settings on her MySpace page back to private. Tagg can also take comfort from a New Yorker whose MySpace page proudly declares, "OK, my guilty pleasure is Harry Potter. OMG."

As the son of one of the most calculated politicians in America, and grandson of a politician whose career ended after an unguarded comment, Tagg Romney should know better—and his enduring charm is that he doesn't. In a bland, NBD field, we can always count on him to come through with OMG moments. The other Four Brothers are cautious, like their father. Ben Romney reveals nothing on his MySpace page; like Mitt, he lists his height as 0'0", just to be safe.

But Tagg doesn't try to hide behind name, rank, and serial number. You don't get those for serving on the Romney campaign. Tagg's not afraid to stick up for movies like Fletch and the Rocky sequels, or embrace an eclectic group of heroes: "Abraham Lincoln, Teddy Roosevelt, Larry Bird."

Mitt made his wishes clear to the boys. In an ad called "Ocean," he warned of the moral cesspool in which our children swim, a slough of perversion from movies to video games to computers. Matt and Ben Romney, second and fourth in line, wrote blog posts echoing their father's point. First-born Tagg tries to play along, but you can almost see the thought bubble over his head saying, "Come on in—the water's fine."

Nowadays, parents do their best to teach children the first rule of growing up in the age of the Internet: What happens on Facebook doesn't stay on Facebook, and what you put on your MySpace page could haunt you for life. But there's one thing technology can't change about adolescents: they never learn. Now it's Mitt's turn to say, "No way!" ... 5:02 P.M. (link)

Dan Popkey of the Idaho Statesman may have found the answer. According to Popkey, Craig isn't sticking around to clear his name or save his Senate seat. He's out to salvage his hopes of a lucrative lobbying career. The public relations blitz is meant to plant reasonable doubt with the only jury Craig still cares about: K Street.

As Popkey points out, Craig is all too familiar with the case of Bob Packwood, the last Republican senator from the Pacific Northwest to be driven from office by scandal. Craig served on the ethics committee when it investigated Packwood. He voted to expel his friend but hugged Packwood afterwards and sobbed as he went into the Senate cloakroom.

Packwood's political career was over as soon as the lurid details of his sexual harassment hit the press. But rather than spare himself and his party further embarrassment, Packwood fought the charges for three years, leaving only when the Senate ethics committee voted unanimously for expulsion.

Packwood's consolation prize for three decades of fondling and unwanted advances: a $1.5-million-a-year lobbying practice that sold clients on the other contacts he had made in Congress.

Popkey says that in August, before the restroom scandal became public, Craig acknowledged he could make more than $600,000 a year as a lobbyist:

Craig has stepped out, all right. As Popkey concludes, there's no longer any doubt whose interests he's representing.

Television critics everywhere have been wondering why Craig would put his wife and country through the humiliation of talking with Matt Lauer about whether he was gay or perhaps bisexual. Craig's latest double-entendre: "It's no to both."

Luckily, the country was spared, as only the critics were watching. We averted our eyes with good reason. Say what you will about Larry Craig, he's one politician willing to tell people things they don't want to hear. For example, he told KTVB in Boise, "I've got a bit of a streak of civil libertarianism right down my middle." America may love a comeback, but Craig's ratings flop suggests that some figures are beyond redemption.

Yet in many respects, the financial redemption Craig is apparently seeking is a more profound scandal than the crime his guilty plea was meant to cover up. The door he's peering through now is the revolving one.

In this, for once, Craig is not alone. A lobbying career is no longer a safety net for defeated members of Congress. For most congressmen, it's now the cornerstone of their retirement plan. After 27 years in Congress, Craig is out to prove there are no penalties for early withdrawal.

Even in the wake of Jack Abramoff and the last wave of Republican scandals, the new ethics law only extended the cooling-off period for former members of Congress from one year to two. To get a foot in the revolving door, real reform would prohibit senior government officials and former members from lobbying for five years or more.

For weeks, Republicans have complained bitterly about the price their party is paying for Craig's galling selfishness. If Popkey is right, they might try turning it to their advantage. When a corporate executive refuses to leave after his personal life becomes a public-relations disaster, the board often offers a buyout. A desperate GOP could try the same tack when scandal-ridden members won't go: fill their saddlebags with money if they'll leave town by sunset. The corporate world calls that a "golden handshake." In the Craig case, golden hand signals just might do the trick. ... 4:40 P.M. (link)

Leroy's theme was the price of fame. The Hall of Fame audience of 220 paid $50 a plate. As Leroy pointed out, "As the cameras outside testify, this banquet is a hot ticket." Ever the good sport, Leroy read the crowd quotes from famous people about fame: Jean Jacques Rousseau ("Fame is but the breath of the people and that is often unwholesome"); Brad Pitt ("Fame is a bitch, man"); and Truman Capote ("Fame is only good for one thing — they will cash your check in a small town.").

I don't know about Rousseau, and Brad Pitt can speak for himself. But I don't care what the Idaho Statesman says -- Truman Capote was not gay!

Even Craig made a quip, telling the audience: "My fame of the last month, I would liken to the definition Brad Pitt gave it." Late-night comics agree: Larry Craig is the joke that won't stop running.

Craig was a controversial choice, but Hall of Fame board member Michael Ritz told the Associated Press that the board felt honor-bound to let him in. "We thought, 'It's kind of going back on your word,'" Ritz explained. "Once a person has been sent a letter and voted into the Hall of Fame, it would be kind of like breaking a promise." That, of course, is something Larry Craig would never do.

If you missed the Boise ceremony, stay tuned: Craig wants a national audience, too. In an interview with Matt Lauer that will air on NBC Tuesday night, Craig lashed out at Mitt Romney for dumping him the day the arrest story broke: "He not only threw me under his campaign bus, he backed up and ran over me again." Apparently, there's no "I Brake for Bad Boys" bumper sticker on the Mitt Mobile.

For days, Romney has been fending off charges from John McCain and Rudy Giuliani that he can't be trusted. Now Mitt's constancy is under fire from Craig, the Republicans' leading authority on saying one thing and doing another.

Last week, Republicans were stunned to find out that Craig won't go. This week's revelation is worse: Craig won't go quietly. In the early days of the scandal, he acted like a man who would neither fight nor switch. As he told Lauer, now he has launched a public relations blitz to show the world, "I'm a fighter." Craig isn't just haunting Republicans from the political grave; he's inviting them to come join him.

When the Craig War Room started up last month, the political world scoffed that it was too late. But look now: after only a few weeks of damage control, damage is everywhere.

Sen. Craig has long advocated that the best way to prevent forest fires is to start brush fires. He's at it again. Most of us cringed back in June when Craig's response to hundreds of people in Lake Tahoe who lost their homes to wildfire was, "I don't know if I want to smile, or I want to cry." This time, we feel the same way.

The most disturbing news in the Lauer interview is that Craig's wife didn't learn of his arrest until she heard about it on TV. His latest apology isn't going to make her feel much better:

"I should have told my wife. I should have told my kids. And most importantly, I should have told counsel."

Forget "women and children first" – that's how they did damage control on the Titanic. These days, crisis has forced embattled Republicans to adopt a new definition of family values: first, tell all the lawyers.

Mitt Romney said the same thing in last week's debate: "You sit down with your attorneys and [have them] tell you what you have to do." When Romney and Craig agree on so much, it's a shame to see them fighting. ... 3:22 P.M. (link)

In 1992, Gore wrote that "Archimedes, who invented the lever, is reported to have said that if only he had 'a place on which to stand' at a sufficient distance from the earth, he could move the world." Like a scientist, Gore has spent his career looking for ways to see the planet from that perspective.

For many politicians, all politics is retail. Some prefer to give the view from 30,000 feet. Al Gore doesn't stop there. The most striking feature of his office in the Senate and the White House was an enormous photograph of Earth, taken from outer space.

Fifteen years ago, in Earth in the Balance, Gore displayed another favorite photograph—a computer-generated mosaic image of Abraham Lincoln. From up close, the photo looks like a random checkerboard of gray squares. Only from a distance does Lincoln's picture become clear.

George W. Bush's presidency is a monument to the perils of shortsightedness. With the Nobel, Gore has finally been rewarded for taking the long view.

Unlike science, politics can be a depressingly monosyllabic business: "Peace is at hand"; "Read my lips"; "Bring him on." One of Gore's first crusades to save the planet went after an unpronounceable villain with a week's worth of syllables: chlorofluorocarbons. That issue didn't win him the Democratic nomination in 1988, although it later earned him a nickname from George H.W. Bush: "Ozone Man." But the effort to protect the ozone layer was a success, and the scientists who discovered the threat from chlorofluorocarbons won the Nobel Prize for Chemistry in 1995.

When I joined Gore's Senate staff as a speechwriter in the mid-'80s, I felt like an English major at Caltech. From biotechnology to organ transplants to ARPANET, Gore approached every issue, large and small, with the same ferocious scientific curiosity. Even the liberal-arts assignments were impossibly comprehensive. My first week on the job, he asked for all available information on the decline of the nation-state.

The summer before the '88 primaries, Gore found out that the next debate in Iowa would be held in a hall with no air conditioning, where the temperature onstage would top 100 degrees. Gore asked his health-policy expert to find out whether there was any scientific way to keep candidates from sweating like Richard Nixon under such conditions. In fact, someone had come up with an inhibitor to keep the forehead from sweating, but apparently it had the unfortunate side effect of making sweat pour down the back of the head in buckets, like Albert Brooks in Broadcast News. Gore took a pass, and redoubled his efforts to tackle global warming.

Then as now, Gore was obsessed with long-term trends. He championed the Congressional Clearinghouse on the Future and introduced a bill to create an Office of Critical Trends Analysis. The bill never passed, so he essentially manned the office himself.

In the politics of the moment, seeing the future often proved as much a burden as a blessing. When Earth in the Balance came out, Gore was attacked for imagining the end of the internal-combustion engine. Now even carmakers are trying to figure out how to prove him right. Gore has been making the same persuasive case on climate change for more than two decades. Only in the last two years did people start to see past the random checkerboard of gray squares.

One of America's greatest scientific minds, Thomas Edison, would have admired Gore's persistence, even if, thanks to Gore, the world will soon abandon the incandescent light bulb Edison invented. Gore spent decades in the political laboratory searching for the right filament to make a light go on in the public mind about global warming. If Edison was right that "genius is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration," the world is lucky Al Gore has never been afraid to sweat buckets for the cause. ... 11:18 P.M. (link)

* Dept. of What Ifs: Today's Washington Post notes the irony that George W. Bush was in Florida when he learned of Gore's triumph. The Post also says "there was no congratulatory phone call" from Bush. He doesn't need to get snippy about it! But the New York Times adds the most poignant historical irony: