Machiavelli Be Damned
You have to hand it to the Clintons, they are diabolically clever. Having realized that the mathematical possibility of winning the nomination outright are nil, they have apparently decided that the cost of the presidency is holding their nose and putting Obama on the ticket: as the vice president. This stratagem leverages the Democratic throng clamoring for a “Dream Ticket”–with Clinton on top of the ticket, of course.
Never mind that he has won the most delegates and the math favors him. Obama will be the bad guy if he doesn’t embrace the “compromise” that resolves the party’s conundrum. This is an exquisite variation of the triangulation the Clintons are infamous for, although I’m sure to Obama right now it feels more like strangulation.
For the Clintons, what does it matter? With a “two fer”, the vice president is essentially irrelevant to their presidency anyway. As Maureen Dowd notes:
If he thinks Hillary has cut him down to size lately, he’d better imagine what his life would be like as the Clintons’ vice president
Machiavelli has nothing on the Clintons. They didn’t learn from him, he foresaw them.
The irony is it is precisely this sort of political ruthless cleverness that one side believes is absolutely necessary to confront a hostile world, whereas the other side proclaims a better world can be forged. Which is right?
That is the underlying philosophical question of the election, meaning we will be deciding whether we Americans at the beginning of the millennium believe our cup is half fool or morally empty.
NOTE: I know this post has nothing to do with baseball from your perspective, but it does from mine. The irony is I started blogging about baseball because I knew this would be the election of a lifetime and figured I would only get myself into trouble blogging about politics. Who knew?
Actually, my interest in history and politics has always been offset by my passion for baseball. At times when I became so misanthropic from my study of history or the shenanigans of politics, I turned to baseball for refuge. I must confess to being somewhat alarmed that because of blogging they are now becoming intertwined. I have been paying close attention for over a year and a half now, and it has finally reached the point I have to write about politics as a matter of therapy. I can always rationalize they started this when Congress started holding hearings on baseball.
You can find all my political and historical writings at New World Wanderings, the natural evolution of my defunct project, The Jamestown Site. Feel free to drop by and comment, and be sure and leave your blog url when you do!
Bumba Vomits the World
The title of this post is taken from an African creation myth in which a being called Bumba retches up the earth, moon and stars, and eventually men. Like all creation myths, one can argue with the facts without abrogating the meaning.
After a winter of lies, damned lies, and, not statistics, but baseball players themselves, it is easy to succumb to the cynicism latent in the African Bumba myth. After all, our heroes have proven to be what we knew they were all along, deep down. The Mitchell Report vomited up men in all their frailty and evil. Another persistent theme in creation myths is the creator running like **** to get away from his ultimate creation, man. Even in the Biblical creation God posts armed guards at the gates to keep the little ******* from re-entering paradise.
Yet every spring man does re-enter heaven when he crosses that chalked line onto the geometrically perfect diamond where baseball is played.
She’s Baaaaccccckkkkk!
Just when you thought it was safe to go to MLBlogs home page, Ms. Milano comes out of blogging hibernation to grace us all with her profound insight. I guess I didn’t really need a new Modal V-Neck over the winter (certainly not for fifty bucks). Maybe she’s got bats for sale. Or baseball gloves. Wonder if she’s got any balls for sale? I hear the twinkies who run MLBlogs could use a pair.
Nah, just what you’d expect on a baseball site: women’s clothing. As if the Victoria’s Secret catalog and SI Swimsuit issues weren’t enough–and they don’t even pretend to be legitimate bloggers!
Be sure and drop by with your dollars and a lot of comment love. That way the twinkies don’t have to impersonate so many legitimate commenters. Everyone should enjoy the show. “And now for your entertainment pleasure, the sexy Alyssssssssaaaaaaaa!” Be sure and tip your waitresses!
How to Hang Yourself for Dummies
As Russell at Arizona Via Slough so aptly pointed out, in my last post I missed the irony in the latest Clemens self-demolition derby: as I had noted previously, the entire issue regarding whether Captain America had attended the Canseco party was a complete canard created by his attorney, a logical sleight-of-hand designed to divert attention from the substantial charges. I was actually surprised (silly me) that Congress took the bait and spent a considerable amount of time focused on the party.
Earth to Roger: have you ever noticed that people have a propensity to bring cameras to social events where celebrities are present?
Tip for Hangsters: Hire Rusty Hardin as your attorney. Guys like that make the big bucks thinking about things like the fact that people have a propensity to bring cameras to social events where celebrities are present. This clown has ill-served Clemens at every turn. He should have advised Clemens from the onset to say two words: “No comment.” Makes you wonder who Clemens’ personal physician is, Dr. Kevorkian?
Assuming those photos exist–and the admission by Clemens lawyer makes me think they do–Clemens is indisputably guilty of perjury, the irony being it was Clemens who made attendance at the party the crux of his defense. No party -> No conversation -> No steroids. Looks good on a whiteboard. Too bad it was a whitewash.
Clemens did more than lied to Congress: he made a fool of Congress. How ridiculous does Burton look now waving videotapes purportedly proving Clemens was not at the party and assailing McNamee? He made them look gullible and stupid. Clemens is toast.
I’ll give you some free advice, Roger: come clean. Do an Andy Pettitte. Throw yourself on the mercy of the court. Apologize to the baseball public. It is over.
You hung yourself, you dummy.
I Was At the Party and I’ll Lie If I Want To
Photos may exist that show Roger Clemens attended a 1998 party at the home of then-teammate Jose Canseco that was an issue at the Feb. 13 hearings before a congressional subcommittee, The New York Daily News reported.
Such a discovery could undermine Clemens’ sworn testimony that he did not attend the party as the congressional committee decides whether to turn baseball’s steroids issue over to the Justice Department.
The paper said the photo is owned by a man who attended the party when he was 11 years old and took photos of his baseball heroes, including Clemens. Richard Emery, a lawyer for Clemens accuser Brian McNamee, said he was aware of the new development.
FOX Sports on MSN – MLB – Report: Picture puts Clemens at Canseco party
There would be something deliciously ironic if ol’ cheatin’ Rog is finally undone by the worshipful actions of an 11 year old fan. He thought nothing of the message his actions would convey to the youth if his dirty deeds were ever exposed.
Less Miserables
Like pretty much everyone else in the baseball world I watched the Andy Pettitte confessional, and was somewhat disappointed he didn’t answer the most pressing question, was there any possibility he “misremembered” Clemens admission of having used performance enhancing substances. Pettitte’s performance seemed sincere, but what does he have to fear on that account? If he tells the truth, nothing. Not that I doubt Pettitte; I happen to believe him. But his refusal to answer that question is aggravating.
Of course it is possible he “misremembered” or even misconstrued Clemens’ remarks. We’ve all done that, especially regarding events that happened several years ago. So why didn’t he just say: “Of course it is possible”? That isn’t an assertion that he did, or even likely, just stating the obvious. Instead we’re back to hiding behind lawyers.
Pettitte’s testimony wasn’t nearly as damning as it has been portrayed. The fact that, by that very testimony, Clemens denied telling Pettitte years later that Andy had misunderstood actually affirms Clemens case now. Don’t get me wrong, I think Clemens is guilty as sin. But I also believe there has been less than responsible logic attempting to prove what ultimately is probably unprovable. We all want to know. But unless Roger gets religion and decides to do a Pettitte, we are never really going to know.
Personally I’m sick and tired of these miserable wretches cluttering my thoughts. I could use with less miserables, and more baseball.
Playing Civilization
… genuine, pure play is one of the main bases of civilization.
Truth, Justice and the Clemens Way
There seems to be some disagreement as to whether Clemens demanded the hearing before Congress, as committee chairman Henry Waxman has claimed. Here is the statement from one of Clemens’ attorneys as to why they believe the hearing wasn’t their idea:
“When I was first retained, I argued to this committee that this should not be the kind of hearing that they had, that Roger Clemens would be proud and delighted to join chairman Waxman and anyone else and to say to them and to say to anyone else what he has said to the children all over America: That there are no shortcuts, that it’s hard work, and he is against steroids and he is against HGH. I was turned down flat,” Breuer said.
The Clemens camp is completely incorrigible. Once again denying responsibility, they blame the hearing on a committee that felt it needed to delve a little deeper into the issue than present Clemens with U.S.A. emblazoned on his chest (superman cape too, probably) declaring “steroids, bad”.
You know, I almost felt sorry for old lip licking Roger getting the **** kicked out of him by the facts. After reading this, I feel a lot better. I may even put the DVD on and watch it again.
Persephone Emerges from Hades
Like Persephone emerging from Hades, pitchers and catchers return to camp today in our annual rite of spring. This time the analogy is particularly apt as yesterday may have been the darkest day I have ever seen in baseball, uglier even than the many work stoppages, the Pete Rose scandal, this hearing predecessor. Think about this sad assessment: the greatest hitter and greatest pitcher I’ve ever seen are facing the very real possibility of prison for lying about enhancing their performance with illegal drugs.
Yet today, here we are again, the real addicts. We love baseball. And baseball will not be denied. Not by the pimps who sell it, from Selig on down to the jock sniffers who run MLBlogs. Not by the professional players and their union, who, like the pimps, are morally bereft.
No, we love the game. The game itself. The sound of wood on leather and leather on leather. Balls soaring through the air. Slides. Diving catches. Rounding the bases. A throw home.
Baseball has a life of its own. Bud Selig, with the typical arrogance underlying all of the professional game’s travails, takes credit for the popularity of baseball, but that’s like taking credit for life, or beauty, or any other good thing given by the good Lord.
Thank God for baseball.
Clemens Report
What a train wreck.
It was painfully obvious a Congressional hearing was not the forum to resolve the truth. It was not a courtroom. The obvious advocacy, especially for Clemens, by various members of Congress was as unseemly as Clemens politicking with them last week. The demonstration of a photo of Clemens at various stages of his career with the same size body was especially egregious, although nothing matched the congressman who wanted to know what uniform Clemens would be wearing in the HOF. I know it is called Human Growth Hormone, lady, but read up on the subject you are questioning about. Athletes use it mostly to recover and endure a long season, not “grow” muscle. That same idiot then lauded Clemens—shall I say it—Herculean workouts. Just for the uninitiated, it is the workout that develops the muscle, not the substance. The substance simply allows for more intense workouts, meaning—you guessed it—more muscle. Again, these people should educate themselves.
Clemens proclaimed he is guilty of nothing except being too nice. Well isn’t that sweet. To paraphrase Barack Obama, I’ll bet his greatest fault is helping little old ladies across the street. Time after time, Clemens interjected his pedigree. One would have thought he was talking to St. Peter at the Pearly Gates. Of course that was what it was all about: a PR campaign.
Ironically Waxman, who I suspect recognized this was going to be a complete waste of taxpayer money, was ready to pull the plug on the hearing. Clemens insisted on it. This was his soapbox, his chance to salvage his reputation, to change public opinion.
He failed. Miserably. And he may very well have bought a Go to Jail card in the process. I think the Greeks called it hubris. The closing scene, with Clemens getting gaveled by a Congressional Chairman after being interrupted by a protesting Rocket during the hearing’s closing statement, may very well be the final image of this whole sordid mess. Who does Roger think he is?
As bad as Clemens came off, I thought McNamee looked slightly worse. Not because I think he is lying. In fact, I think he is telling the truth. But let’s face it, he did sell people who treated him pretty well down the river, with the excuse he was only doing what they wanted him to do. I kept thinking of Gollum from Lord of the Rings. He may not be a “drug dealer”, as some congressmen insisted, but he’s not much better.
And speaking of congressmen, I thought they came across worst of all. Did you notice how easily they fell for the Canseco party canard? They must have spent half an hour on that red herring. Worse, the hearing devolved into a political version of The Jerry Springer Show. At the end of the day, what was determined about The Mitchell Report? That was the purpose, wasn’t it?
The fact that no determination could be made may be a godsend. Here and there I heard doubts about the Mitchell Report and the master it was intended to serve. Those who railed against McNamee must, by inference, discredit the Mitchell Report. And once The Mitchell Report falls, then we are back to square one, for the Mitchell Report was supposed to answer questions about the abuse of PEDs in baseball. Now there are more questions than there were before, not only about the past, but about the future.
Sooner or later these congressional clowns are going to wake up to the obvious question: how could baseball possibly have a handle on the PED problem without a test for HGH? HGH dominates the conversation, not steroids. And, more importantly, could baseball possibly be trusted to police itself when it is demonstrable that it refuses to do so.
Ugh. I need a shower.
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