Nothing gentle to droppeth
here
By Wesley Pruden
PrudenPolitics.com
“The quality of mercy is not strain’d,” or so the
Bard imagined. “It droppeth as the gentle rain from
heaven.” Sometimes. Maybe. But Mr. Shakespeare never
lived and worked in Washington, where many things
droppeth but few are gentle.
The Great Washington Weiner Roast continues into
early summer, to the chagrin of Democrats and the
glee of Republicans. Scandals, if not gentle rain,
droppeth like manna for the purveyors of columny.
Ah, tweet mythtery of life in the randy lane.
The fretful leaders of the Democrats, terrified of
scandal running on forever, continue to pressure
Anthony Weiner to disappear, to drop dead, to get
lost, to return to his abused wife’s side to occupy
himself with midnight runs to the all-night
supermarket for pickles and tutti-fruiti ice cream,
she being in the family way—or, as one of the
irreverent Gotham tabloids put it, with “A little
Weiner in the oven.”
Presidents aren’t immune to the loose zipper,
either, as Florence Harding and others could have
told us.
The Weiner phenomenon is not new, only
longer-running and more entertaining than usual.
Zipper disease, after all, is endemic and permanent.
The late Stephen Ambrose, the chronicler of World
War II heroics, hit it on the nose: “God gave man a
penis and a brain, but only enough blood to run one
at a time.”
Washington being Washington, some in the chattering
class are tempted to make troubles with the zipper a
partisan failing. Good luck with that. But reprising
scandals past reveals that Democratic voters tend to
have a slightly more forgiving strainer through
which they push mercy. Some easily frightened
pundits imagine that it’s Mr. Weiner, not the
calamity howling preacher Harold Camping, who is the
true herald of the end of the world. “At what point
do we decide that a political system has become
decadent?” asks E.J. Dionne Jr. in The Washington
Post. “You really do wonder what’s happening to our
democracy and those who serve in it.” Since liberals
like E.J. believe in the earthly perfectibility of
man and in government as the instrument of
redemption, they’re particularly susceptible to
despair when they see the god of government failing.
Even a brief enumeration of the recently fallen
congressmen, some wicked and some merely foolish,
certainly invites dejection, if not despair.
Senators are not above temptation, but they’re more
experienced in evasion, tend to have savvier staffs,
and probably are more skilled in the cover-up if not
necessarily more skilled in the button-up.
Presidents aren’t immune to the loose zipper,
either, as Hillary Clinton, Florence Harding, Jackie
Kennedy and no doubt others could have told us. But
it’s the House where temptation strikes with such
abandon.
Wilbur Mills of Arkansas (there’s clearly something
in the Mountain Valley Water down there) kept
Washington in stitches in the spring of 1974 after
his inamorata, a stripper named Fanne Fox billed as
“the Argentine Firecracker,” leaped from his long,
black limousine at 2 in the morning and jumped into
the Tidal Basin, in view of a passing
“photojournalist.” The rest, and Mr. Mills himself,
were soon history.
None of these miscreants even remotely resemble
inventions of Damon Runyon, though Barney Frank of
Massachusetts comes close. He installed his pimp in
his Capitol Hill apartment, who then used it as a
brothel. Barney posed as the innocent gay caballero,
a hero of the liberal and lavender left, and when
the House Ethics Committee looked into his ethics
they only concluded that he had fixed a couple of
traffic tickets for the pimp. No real harm, no real
foul, only a reprimand.
Few of the names from a list of Top Ten Scandals are
even remembered a decade later. The only memory of
one of them, Gus Savage of Illinois, defeated after
the Ethics Committee found him guilty of sexual
assault on a Peace Corps volunteer in Zaire, was the
comment of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch: “Replacing
Gus Savage with a stalk of celery would elevate the
intellectual and moral tone of Congress.” His
successor was charged with assault on a 16-year-old
girl, and resigned. He was later convicted of bank
fraud.
The rogue hero of Robert Penn Warren’s famous novel,
“All the King’s Men,” imagined he had the wieners
who populate our politics all figured out. “Man is
conceived in sin and born in corruption, and he
passeth from the stink of the didie to the stench of
the shroud.” Tough stuff, and we have to find a
context to keep everything in, but the pols have
only themselves to blame if the rest of us agree.