Some post-mortems on Rick Santorum’s partly admirable, partly vexing candidacy: First, his is a campaign that can credibly spend energy on the “what-if” game. That distinguishes him from Herman Cain, Rick Perry, and Michele Bachmann, all of whom were so thin in national campaign skills, or so palpably unprepared to be president, that no assembly of tactics would have gotten them there.
I’ve believed since the night of his Iowa speech that Santorum did have a pathway. It involved owning a unique economic message, one that chastised both Wall Street and Washington for breaching the social compact, and one that recognized that middle class anxiety has cultural and economic roots. He could have so easily broadened that theme by embracing tough education reforms and a crackdown on special interest influence. He could have wielded the Bain Capital card much more credibly than Newt Gingrich.
For a mix of reasons—the lack of a strategic thinker in his campaign circle, an undisciplined communications style, and way too much time arguing process and electability instead of ideas–Santorum never polished the smart populism that I described above. Instead of becoming the “creative, new ideas” alternative to Romney, he lapsed into the politics of last conservative standing, which after his peak in February, was only good enough for the Deep South and a string of solid seconds. It’s a gambit that might have worked against a Giuliani or a Huntsman; but against a mainstream conservative like Romney, whom the right found acceptable if unexciting, the game plan was too cautious and too uninspiring.
Read the rest of… Artur Davis: A Santorum Post-Mortem
Good afternoon, and welcome to another edition of Prix Fixe Politics! It’s now unofficially general election season, so you can finally rest assured Sarah Palin won’t be coming out of hibernation to join the race. Here’s today’s menu…
But first – in the last edition, I asked a question in the Appetizer about what Americans want most in 2012. If you said men want more money, and women want more time, you have your finger on the pulse of the American electorate. Thanks to all who participated, and as promised, I have used the fancy algorithm of pulling a number out of a hat to pick the winner. Sakina Zaidi, a Penn classmate of mine and formerly of Bain Capital, is the lucky one, so I will be treating her to drinks in…Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. Because I don’t see a trip to the Horn of Africa in the near future, Sakina can claim her prize when she is back stateside; in the meantime, I will treat Nick Eng, another classmate of mine and currently a consultant with Diamond Management and Technology, next time I’m in New York City.
Appetizer: A piece of data you should keep your eye on as we head toward summer is the Consumer Confidence Index (CCI). CCI ignores contentious social issues and wedge issues, focusing on current economic conditions and voters’ future expectations for business, employment, and personal income. The last 40 years show a potentially game-changing correlation: If the CCI is at 100 or higher, the incumbent party has a significant advantage in its bid to retain the White House. In October 2008, for example, the CCI was a paltry 52. Gas prices had skyrocketed, the beginnings of the recession were among us, and John McCain ended up losing the election. Since the 1972 election between Richard Nixon and George McGovern, the CCI has correctly predicted the outcome of 9/10 of the presidential elections (the notable exception being 2000, in which incumbent-party candidate Al Gore won the popular vote). So, where do things stand now? As of the end of March, the CCI stood at 70.2. As Democrat strategist James Carville said to Bill Clinton in his 1992 campaign, “It’s the economy, stupid!”
Media victim? Seriously? He’s a media victim in the same way that Kim Kardashian is: every dollar they raise/make is due entirely to their shameless exploitation of media fascination with them as opposed to any iota of talent they might possess.
These two peas-in-a-pod exemplify the modern-day media corollary of “If it bleeds, it leads,” which is “If it screams – or has implants – it leads.”
This episode will inevitably help him raise more money from the nutjob base, which helps him. But I don’t know enough about the dynamics of his new district to say whether it hurts him with actual swing voters.
People who talk about him seriously as a VP prospect should immediately report back to the asylum from which they’ve escaped.
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon Apr 16, 2012 at 8:30 AM ET
Tax Day and silver linings.
When I found out about tax extensions I had the same ecstatic feeling as when I was a college freshman and found out I could withdraw from a class I was struggling in.
Sure it just puts off the inevitable –and with a penalty.
But much like dropping a college class, it sure can do wonders for my attitude today.
By Krystal Ball, on Fri Apr 13, 2012 at 1:30 PM ET
When Republicans took over state legislatures and the US Congress in 2010, we were promised a war on unemployment. Instead we’ve gotten a war on the environment, women, minorities, unions and everything else that moves, organizes and votes Democratic.
The idealized “Schoolhouse Rock” version of our democratic process works something like this: Constituents concerned about a problem in the community contact their representative in the legislature, who recognizes the issue and decides to respond. The legislator works together with a skilled staff to draft legislation. The legislation is honed in committees where other members bring the perspective of their districts.
Finally, the entire body votes for the bill and it either succeeds or fails on its merits. We all know that this ideal has long been perverted by lobbyists and large donors who hold undue sway in our democracy. Less visible but even more pernicious is the impact of organizations like ALECand AUL who turn legislating into a wholesale, Costco-style activity.
Read the rest of… Krystal Ball: ALEC and AUL: Buying our democracy at wholesale
By John Y. Brown III, on Fri Apr 13, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
Celebrity look alike?
Who are the celebrities you think you look most like? And which one do you really look most like?
Oh, I know. You’ve never thought about this because you aren’t that shallow. Baloney. Don’t worry, I haven’t either.
And that’s baloney too.
I’ll go first.
Being associated with a celebrity based on appearance must have some instinctive pull on us. Maybe it gives us a sense of validation that we are somehow important (or have the potential to be) bc we look like someone who is considered important and successful.
When I was a boy I had blondish curly hair. And lots of it.
The first celebrity I was told I looked like was Shirley Temple. A little girl. This displeased and distressed me to the point I took a pair of scissors and cut my own hair. It would be the last time I’d do anything like that again before the Flowbee was introduced some 25 years later.
The Shirley Temple comments ended around ages 6 or 7. And a new celebrity comparison began. Jody –from Family Affair (as in Buffy and Jody), i.e. Johnny Whitaker. Jody was a quantum leap better than Shirley….And best of all he was a male! But if I could have chosen any celebrity in Hollywood, he would have been my first choice.
So I tried to improve on it. When I was 15 the movie Blue Lagoon came out. Two good looking teens, Christopher Atkins and Brooke Shields are stranded on a deserted island and forced to fall in love. Atkins had curly hair and was my age. I floated a the idea to several people that someone had suggested I looked like him. (The person who suggested I looked like him was me–and I suggest it to me.) Suffice it to say the idea never caught on.
No one –other than me–ever thought I looked like Christopher Atkins. Ever. Not even a little.
Chastened, a lowered my standards. I floated the idea a few years later around age 17 that someone (again me) told me I looked like Tommy from the sitcom Eight is Enough.
It didn’t catch on either. Mostly because no one I told could understand why I would want to look like Tommy –of all the celebrities out there.
That’s when I gave up on trying to find a celeb look alike to bolster my self -esteem. At least for the next 30 years.
I may float a rumor later this week that I look like a mature Jonah Hill (after the weight loss). It’s not that I want to look like Jonah Hill. It’s mostly my last ditch resistance before making peace with the fact that the only celeb I’ve ever seriously been told I look like is Johnny Whitaker (Jody).
Like so much in life, it’s not what I was hoping for. But could have been a lot worse. I need to simply accept this and be grateful it’s not Shirley Temple.
1. As the movie reviewers from In Living Color would say: “Hated it!”
2. This may be the first book review in history to quote Benjamin Netanyahu, Fredo Corleone, Emily Bronte, Three Dog Night, and Jerry McGuire.
An excerpt:
Within the aching, romantic heart of Peter Beinart lies an epic, tragic love story.
Beinart’s latest book, The Crisis of Zionism, begins as a tale of the author as a young boy, sitting at the knee of his immigrant grandmother, falling in love with her utopian vision of their ancestral homeland, a nation of liberal values and the moral pursuit of peace. You had me at “Shalom”!
But recently, upon receipt of a mysterious video — featuring a young boy mourning the arrest of his Palestinian father — our heroic narrator removes his devotion-inspired blinders, and his now-unjaundiced eyes reveal a long trail of illiberal betrayal by the wholly hole-y Holy Land.
But rather than retreat, our author sets out instead to reform his unfaithful love. With a self-image of Biblical proportions, Beinart likens himself to the Hebrew Prophets who decried the misuse of power the last time the Jews ran Israel.
Alas…this Jeremiah is a bullfrog.
Like many works in the kiss-and-tell genre, The Crisis of Zionism is driven by emotion rather than fact, and is so transparently one-sided that it reveals that the true betrayer is the author himself. Beinart is like Heathcliff, whose misinformed, misguided abandonment of his true love damns the couple to tragedy. Or perhaps he’s Fredo, whose thwarted ambition leads him on the path to perfidy, enabling and empowering his family’s enemies. You broke my heart, Peter. You broke my heart.
Some post-mortems on Rick Santorum’s partly admirable, partly vexing candidacy: First, his is a campaign that can credibly spend energy on the “what-if” game. That distinguishes him from Herman Cain, Rick Perry, and Michele Bachmann, all of whom were so thin in national campaign skills, or so palpably unprepared to be president, that no assembly of tactics would have gotten them there.
For a mix of reasons—the lack of a strategic thinker in his campaign circle, an undisciplined communications style, and way too much time arguing process and electability instead of ideas–Santorum never polished the smart populism that I described above. Instead of becoming the “creative, new ideas” alternative to Romney, he lapsed into the politics of last conservative standing, which after his peak in February, was only good enough for the Deep South and a string of solid seconds. It’s a gambit that might have worked against a Giuliani or a Huntsman; but against a mainstream conservative like Romney, whom the right found acceptable if unexciting, the game plan was too cautious and too uninspiring. 
