Exclusive! An audacious idea. Edward J. Snowden for President of the United States. The man who knows everyone and everything and has demonstrated expertise in getting even the most delicate jobs done. Bail to the chief. We have need of this nerd.

by Dr. Jeffrey Lant.

 Author's program note. It's like  this. Voluble motor mouth Senator Charles Schumer  (D-New York) forced my hand. I mean, the next presidential election doesn't occur  until 2016. Problem is, by campaign standards that is just the day after tomorrow  and Schumer, third-ranking Democrat in the Senate, wants to be a player.

 Thus, when he was invited to address a crowd of 750 at an Iowa  Democratic Party  event Saturday, November 2, he made it clear who he wants in the Oval Office after  the Right Honorable Barack vacates the premises, a legend in his own mind: Hilary  Rodham Clinton.

 "Hillary's experience is unrivaled and her vision is unparalleled", proclaimed New  York's senior senator, along with a whole lot of the particularly bombastic and flatulent  language which the Great Republic treasures in every windy word, every tub-thumping syllable, not merely suitable for its presidential candidates, but expected and always scrutinized with baleful eyes.

 "It's time for a woman to be president", he said, and Iowans present who know they  can make history, scrambled to their feet screaming for the lady who will in due course  get her party's nomination, though she is coy and demur about the matter  today.  But to get a nomination isn't necessarily to be elected... as so many of those entered  in the make-or-break caucuses of the Hawkeye state (just two years away now) have  learned to their chagrin, yes even the winners in Iowa who failed to wow America.  Thus did the next presidential campaign commence, necessitating my early  endorsement and this astonishing article... God help us.

 Sagging, bloated, no longer a brand new face.

 There is to be sure a significant body of opinion even amongst Democrats that  Hillary is like cod past its "sell-by" date, once fresh and enticing, now a nose holder.  Yet her nomination will occur because the ex-First Lady, ex-U.S. Senator from New  York, and ex-Secretary of State will do what she does best, work hard, work long,  work with verve and unmatched determination to get what she wants, having  absolutely no trouble at all persuading herself that she is the best possible thing for  the nation she once adorned as a Goldwater Girl (1964), primly cavorting for Senator  Barry Goldwater (1909-1998), father of the nation's modern (and increasingly  irresponsible) conservative movement; thereby proving this baby has come a long  way.

 (Author's honorable confession: I was a "Goldwater Boy" that year when Hillary  and I (the same age) lived just a few miles apart, in suburban Chicagoland. Thus,  I must tread gently around this matter).

 Things change, but what doesn't is each candidate's profound belief that they are  the one -- the only one -- who knows best, even when they change their positions  as often and completely as New England's fickle weather. "If you don't like the weather  in New England now", Mark Twain wrote; "just wait a few minutes." He might have written  as much about their "immutable" positions which never are.

 OMG.

 But though I write as if Hillary's nomination was certain, it most assuredly is not...  especially if master spy and quirky cutie Edward J. Snowden runs. For he knows  everything about everyone, knows where all the bodies are buried, and has already  proven just how expert he is at publicizing the choicest (that is to say, the most  scandalous), eye-popping items which can so easily disrupt any campaign. In  Hillary's case these most probably revolve about the undeniable love of her life,  William Jefferson Clinton, Randy Bill, sometime president of these United States.  Consider this...

 Bill Clinton left office still young (just 54), full of beans and grandiose notions,  damning the 22nd Amendment disbarring him from another term he might well have  won (despite all the embarrassments, scandals and roller-coaster  vicissitudes).  His one ace in the hole for his oh-so-sweet, prompt return to the world stage was  the wife he had so publicly humiliated.

 She must be having such fun knowing the power she has over him now. She'll run  alright, but she'll do it her way cocking a snoot at hubby in ways of the utmost subtlety  and artfulness, the way such old married couples may do. She'd be less than human  if she didn't.

 However, whilst ex-president and possible future president play their conjugal  games right out of "Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf?" (1962), Eddie Snowden, for  all that he's making the scene in Moscow these days, is earnestly studying his  portmanteau of jarring Clintonalia, savoring, sharing each scrap of toxic tittle-  tattle with Vlad Putin, his BFF. For can anyone doubt that is what a spy named  Snowden, Edward Snowden, would do?

 Now it is time to introduce him to you. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the next  president of the United States, what he brings to the office and his unique way of  dealing with opponents, electoral or otherwise, and making the world a safer place,  at least for him. Let us salute this man! Let us hear his anthem...

 "007. The James Bond Theme".

 Go now to any search engine and find one of the most recognizable and  apposite movie signature themes ever. Written by Monty Norman (though  celebrated composer John Barry also claimed it in court actions which  sustained Norman's credit), the theme was first recorded and used in 1962.  It features five saxophones, nine brass, a rhythm section and solo guitar.

 That guitar delivered the defining riff and was played by Vic Flick on a 1939  English Clifford Essex Paragon Deluxe. For his work, Flick was paid the one-  off fee of 6 pounds sterling.... about $30 at the time... a  little over $2 today.

 The films, of course, graced by this theme made hundreds of millions. Listen  carefully to the music... the folks who use it, profit apace. Soon you will hear  it everywhere... everywhere Eddie Snowden needs to be to become  president.

 Meet the most agile and successful spy in history: Edward Joseph Snowden,  born June 21, 1983, in Elizabeth City, North Carolina.

 A brief look at his career.

 Snowden is an American computer specialist and former CIA employee and  NSA contractor. He burst into worldwide prominence through a series of  articles  first published in The Guardian newspaper in May 2013. These articles, with their  often hitherto unknown and spectacular revelations, disclosed top secret  surveillance by the United States, Israel, and British governments.

 In an instant Snowden became a household name, variously called spy, whistle  blower, dissident, traitor, patriot. He was charged by the government with espionage  and theft of government property. However, by the time the charge was made,  Snowden had flown the coop, criss-crossing the globe, making tracks whilst his  flatfooted pursuers failed time after time to capture him, in a high tech revival  of the Keystone Cops, until at last Snowden reached Moscow and his most  influential friend, Russian president Vladimir Putin, a man who loves power and  plays the game with deft skill, total cynicism and untrammeled imagination.

 Two of the most dangerous people on Earth had found each other and together  dreamed the dreams of mass confusion, disruption... and triumph; effortless,  complete, impending.

 A  knock at the door.

 A handsome footman is retained and accoutered in high style, powdered hair,  resplendant livery, brass shoe buckles gleaming. He carries a silver salver, solid,  never plate. Mr. Snowden places his engraved card upon it. All it says is "Edward  J. Snowden. Do visit my website now and call". That is all.

 And it is always more than enough since this site, quite unique,  provides impeccable evidence, so lurid, so fascinating of the peccadilloes of the recipient, artfully arranged  for greatest impact.

 The recipient looks, looks again, and again. Then calls the number given. There  is a soft caressing voice, "Mrs. Clinton, we've been expecting you. Have you  had the chance to consider the advantages of remaining a private citizen?  Do  please. Mr. Snowden is awaiting your response."

 Snowden smiles, his plan advancing. So does Putin, for his plan is advancing too.  In the background, the 007 theme swells, confident, irresistible, smooth as silk.  "Snowden, Edward Snowden."


About the Author Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant writes commentary on a number of interesting and sometimes controversial topics. Republished with author's permission by Ruthsella Corasol http://WorkingAtHome101.com.

'You are so wonderful. Being near you is all that I'm living for"! More on the Kennedys, Joe Sr., JFK, Bobby and their high-class minions. How puny, ramshackle and dangerous Camelot looks now because of expert Robert Dallek. And that makes for sad reading indeed.

by Dr. Jeffrey Lant.

 Author's program note. I first met author Robert Dallek when we both appeared  on a talk show on NECN, the New England Cable News network. We were both  there to promote something... in his case the then latest volume in his magisterial  3-book series on Lyndon Johnson, a flawed man who had squandered his  presidency and place in history by putting the nation and the world through an  unwinnable war in Viet Nam and in whom I had lost interest years ago.

 ... then Robert Dallek entered the picture.

 He started to talk about Johnson in a low-key, conversational, thoughtful and  intelligent way that forced me, for one, to re-evaluate Johnson as more than  a self-pitying man with low self-esteem and the bullying tactics that he used to  cover the "real" man and his particular demons. In Dallek's words, clear, simple,  compelling Johnson came alive... and so did historian Dallek. I've admired  Professor Dallek and his work ever since, and I'm glad to have this opportunity  to say so in the hope that many of my many readers will arrive at this conclusion,  too. Short and sweet, if you like American history, you're going to love Robert Dallek.

 About Robert Dallek, born May 16, 1934.

 Robert Dallek is an American historian specializing in American  presidents. His  objective is to show them as they were... which is hardly ever how they wish to  be seen, for mere humanhood is never the goal of such people; legendary status is.

 Thus the minute Dallek selected unflinching truth and rock-ribbed integrity as his  fixed objective, he became a revolutionary, a  menace to the mendacious everywhere,  but especially those in the White House; a "must read" for the rest.

 Not an overnight success.

 Dallek began (like my father) as an undergraduate at the University of Illinois,  graduating with a B.A. in history in June, 1955. He did graduate work at Columbia  University, earning an M.A. in February, 1957, and a Ph.D. in June 1964. He then  went on to UCLA where he moved inexorably up the academic ladder, from assistant  to full professor of history... with many positions, engagements and illustrious places  and assignments to come.

 Even this brief biographical paragraph provides crucial Dallek details, namely that he  is a historical workhorse, setting the objective, doing the meticulous research every  historian must master, writing, editing, re-writing, editing again. This is what all historians  must do. Good historians do it better than most. Paragons like Dallek do it better than  all but a handful of the gifted. And so, in due course, Dallek wrote at least 14 books  and one learned article after another. Such a man deserves our thanks, respect and  admiration, for he has done what needed to be done... and he has done it with clarity,  intellect and information we needed to know, though it is often shocking, dismaying,  appalling, each word diminishing the subjects, never enhancing them... starting with  Camelot's king himself, John Fitzgerald Kennedy.

 Dallek starts and ends his book with a fact that clearly beguiles him, a fact of  the utmost interest and pronounced incredulity: that poll after poll about the presidents  puts JFK and his starkly abbreviated presidency on a par with those of Washington,  Lincoln, and both Roosevelts, with an approval rating of 85 percent, only Ronald Reagan  (at 74 percent) coming close. This fact intrigues Dallek... surprises and perplexes  him for JFK's achievements were thin indeed when compared with the others; not just  thin, either, but distinctly antithetical to greatness and the great needs of the Great  Republic.

 Washington is great because he decreed the Great Republic and disdained to be its  king; Lincoln is great because he adhered to the Great Republic and its unity, doing  whatever was necessary (whether strictly constitutional or not) to preserve it, one  nation under God. JFK ran for president not to secure some great benefit for the  nation but rather because his father, patriarch Joseph P. Kennedy, told him he would...  then ponied up the grit and the wherewithal to make it happen... and successfully so.  John F. Kennedy, his presidency, the jeunesse doree who staffed it and all its myriad  personnel were conjured by Papa Joe and his seemingly unending money and  unequalled drive. He was the true driving force of all.... the Geppeto of all the  Pinocchios.

 President of the United States. Now what?

 Great presidents are great because they represent, sustain and fight for great ideas.  But John F. Kennedy had no such ideas and so started his administration in search  of meaning... and for the people who could help him get it. Whilst engaged in this  matter he did what he was so used to doing, leading an acute, perilous and  dishonorable double life, using women (including 19 year-old Mimi Alford) in  ways both disgusting and pathological and deceiving the nation about his always  precarious and steadily deteriorating health. No wonder Dallek muses about the  Kennedy mystique and its enduring hold on the awe-struck Great Republic.

 Having achieved the greatest office in the world.... and just 43 years old at that....  JFK needed to do something with it, but what? Domestic policy, the betterment of  the citizens, bored him. He who had every advantage could not be bothered, and  was never interested in ensuring the people shared in his gifts and were better off  accordingly. That was beneath his lordly distractions.

 He adamantly preferred the delights of 007 international intrigue and clandestine  agility; in this thrilling arena were princely reputations made... and lost... never mind  that there he, his men, and their implausible plans could be trumped and laid low by  a man named Castro and his beautiful little Caribbean domain to the astonishment of  all. But then Castro believed in his cause... while JFK believed in nothing but his right  to be president, his father's constant refrain... for only that eased the old man's rage  and corrosive embitterment, for he, of course, had wanted to be president, too.

 Fueled by the unending bile of the father, the favored son moved onward and  upward. In 1952 he defeated the Brahmin aristocrat Henry Cabot Lodge who had  condescended to be senator from the great Bay State of  Massachusetts. In  1958 he persuaded its star-struck inhabitants that he was the Coming Man  and his Republican challenger a joke, thereby winning re-election by an  astonishing majority.

 In 1960 he bumped off awkward and garrulous senator Hubert Humphrey in  pivotal West Virginia by the simple, time-honored expedient of greasing the palms  of its dirt-poor and illiterate citizens. He then achieved his party's endorsement  by such proven ploys as promising future offices for present favors. First Brother  Bobby Kennedy, for instance, promised the U.S. embassy to Equador to three  credulous delegates, all important one minute, useless the next.

 "Bobby, there are 19 such ambassadorial assignments to be made in South  America by the president," he was told. Bobby could do the math... thus he had up  to 60 such promises to make, his cynicism and gall swelling his brother's delegate  total.

 And if there were problems, why time and Daddy's bottomless check book could  solve all of them... and even more. It was despicable. It was ruthless... it was cynical.  But it was how hard-ball politics are played in the Great Republic and how its presidents  rise from the multitude into history, cleansed of sin, sanctified, superior, venerated,  twisted into a perfection that makes eternal mockery of the truth, the merest detail, of no significance whatsoever, especially when the matter involves Camelot and its spoiled,  privileged denizens... for they are entitled only to the best... and must not be gainsaid.

 Camelot's Court: Inside the Kennedy White House, Harper, 2013.

 Kings and puissant princes must have followers; the greater their power and  majesty, the more such followers they must have, and these of high position  and earthly consequence. In the Camelot years these paragons were known  as the "best and the brightest" and were selected for their many skills, exuberant  intelligence, educational pedigrees festooned with Ivy, polished condescension and,  most of all, their undeniable ability to uplift the king and augment his glory and  glorious panache.

 "Jesus Christ, this one wants that, that one wants this."

 To his complete disgust and consternation, the new president-elect discovered  that his ambitious, irksome, tiresome countrymen wanted things from him, every  thing their little hearts might desire, including that much over-promised embassy  to Quito. He didn't like their importunities one bit, how dare they? And so he whined  to Daddy this memorable sentiment, "Jesus Christ, this one wants that, that one wants  this. Goddam it, you can't satisfy any of these people. I don't know what I'm going to do."

 But Daddy, arch realist that he was, knew: "Jack," he said with a soupcon of disgust  in his voice, "if you don't want the job, you don't have to take it. They're still counting  votes in Cook County", the place that determined the winner of Illinois and hence the  election.

 It should be mentioned, in fairness, that he like all candidates ended the campaign  exhausted... but unlike other candidates he was already overshadowed by a plethora  of diseases whose treatment often turned him into a near vegetable. No one knew this at  the time, of course; no one knew just how sick he really was; how near ominous death.

 To help keep his explosive secret, JFK used different doctors; no one, absolutely no  one must know all... and no one did until Professor Dallek got permission to study the  medical records for his brilliant, deeply troubling book, "An Unfinished Life: John F.  Kennedy; 1917-1963" (Boston, Little Brown and Company, 2003). It is the best of the  best of Robert Dallek about some of the worst of JFK, but not perhaps the very worst.

 That, some would surely argue, would have been his continuing vulgar usage of  women. In the days following his election, his erotic habits inhibited by instant,  constant, 24-hour-a-day secret service surveillance, he felt trapped and oppressed.

 He did in due course connive at remedies, always putting his high office and  reputation at risk; insulting his wife whenever possible, knowing the depths of  her adoration for him promised instant, unconditional forgiveness.

 This was what he expected from spouse; this is what he expected from everyone...  and in his make-believe court of Camelot, this was what he got, as Robert Dallek  makes so abundantly clear in prose that distresses, dismays, discomfits, disconcerts,  but never palls. We are unsettled, but this is our president, our history, our cross to  bear... and we must see it as it is, in all its ignominy and disgrace, for this president,  his unrestrained usages, his prevarications, his deceits besmirched and threatened  us all, for remember, the nuclear button to kingdom come was his and thus the  future of the world and everyone in it.

 "You are the wonderful one."

 This, of course, is why as the sun rose over the Kennedy White House, the courtiers  of Camelot, Bobby, Ball,  Bowles, Bundy, McNamara, Rostow, Rusk, Salinger,  Schlesinger, Sorensen, et al, gathered each morning to serenade the Apollo of  their imagining, their demi-god, the president they aimed not merely to advise  but to influence and control.

 Their song was "You're A Wonderful One"  first sung by  Marvin Gaye in 1964 on  the Tamla label. Find it now in any search engine and feel not mere love but  adoration and submission.

 "You are so wonderful/ Being near you is all I'm livin' for/  You show me more kindness in little ways/ Then I've ever known in all my days.../  Tell me we'll stay together/ Let me love you forever/  'Cause you're a wonderful one/ You're a wonderful one."

 What a shame he wasn't.

About the Author

Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is the author of over a dozen print publications, several ebooks and over one thousand online articles on a variety of topics including political commentary and US history.  Republished with author's permission by Ruthsella Corasol http://WorkingAtHome101.com

'C'mon everybody, he's good for a laugh/ And no one could tell his heart is broken in half.' The computer embarrassment that just won't quit. No planning. No oversight. No testing. No insurance. No excuses.

by Dr. Jeffrey Lant.

 Author's program note. On one notable occasion when my distant cousin Harold  Macmillan was British Prime Minister (1957-1963) of the empire on which the sun was  rapidly setting, he was stopped by a reporter on his way to Question Time in the House  of Commons, an event every PM cordially detests as infra dig, an affront to their  astonishing grandeur and majesty. "Sir," the clueless journalist asked. "What's the most  difficult part of your job?"

 At this, the notoriously irascible Macmillan blew up and spat out this memorable response, "Events, man, events!" Meaning, life is what  happens when you're making other plans, one  of my mother's favorite insights. And so... while President Obama had expected these days  to be sunning himself in the unconditional plaudits attending the October 1 roll-out of his  signature health care law, he was instead being pilloried for the unexampled screw-up  dished out by his own fair hand and his "gang that couldn't shoot straight", for whom  inefficiency and mismanagement would be compliments.

 Instead, the launch was beyond embarrassment. It was awkward... a mess... rushed...  incomplete... botched... amateur... flubbed... bumbled... just 248 people getting through  and signing up the first 2 days; the highest of high comedy, all rolled up together. Quite  simply the kind of dog's dinner no place in the world does as well as the Great Republic,  past mistress of goofs of every kind and description. It's no wonder in "God we trust."  We need all the help we can get, and I as Co-Founder and CEO of a successful high  tech company since 1994, worldprofit.com, aim to help, too.

 Facing the music.

 As with all my articles, I have selected the most apropos of ditties for this one,  namely the1961 classic "Goodbye Cruel World", words and music by Gloria  Shayne, memorably warbled by that adolescent heart-throb James Darren.  You'll find it in any search engine. Go now and turn up the volume on this story  of unrequited love and obstructed hormones.

 "Oh, goodbye cruel world, I'm off to join the circus..."

 "Oh, oh, oh, step right up and take a look at a fool/  He's got a heart as stubborn as a mule/ C'mon everybody, he's good for a laugh/  And no one could tell his heart is broken in half."

 Now you're ready for...

 The facts. What was done. What wasn't done. Who's to blame. What must be  done.

 In health care reform, B. Obama was handed a no-lose issue. Why am I so  adamant on this point? Easy. Health care, or rather the lack of it, turned me  into a bona fide revolutionary. It happened this way. I decided to move from  the miseries of New England weather, specifically of the frigid seaside  Massachusetts variety, and move to the heart of Dixie, namely Hillsborough,  North Carolina. I was serious, too, to the extent of buying ten of the most  achingly beautiful acres ever subdivided in Orange County.

 I hired myself an elegant architect with expansive ideas and even more  expansive fees. I got a banker who lauded my classic designs, "the best I've  seen in this county," and I applied to Kaiser Permanente, the state's largest  insurer, to duplicate my Bay State policy which I loved and relied upon.

 However, when their letter arrived it blasted all my hopes and dreams. My  application had  been declined. Why? Because I had the temerity and  unmitigated gall to have diabetes, like millions of folks do. And thus I was, to my  complete incredulity and utter disbelief, uninsurable. I was angry, I was stymied,  I was aghast. I was concerned and vulnerable... and from that telling moment,  shared by so many millions, I was politicized, a health care and coverage  revolutionary, a zealot, a man possessed. It was one of the most important  incidents in a life of incidents... as perfect an illustration as you could find that  God works in mysterious ways.

 Remember: no lose!

 Confronting this malignant situation, with millions either without insurance at all,  inadequate insurance, or where insurance could so easily be terminated or  lost with dire, even fatal consequences, Obama could easily position himself  as the White Knight for universal health insurance, the man who saved his  anxious and burdened countrymen, the man who saved the very soul of the  nation.

 After all, his GOP opponents were nutters of the Tea Party fringe. Every responsible  citizen, Republican or not, knew that the magic moment of the political process had  arrived, where leader of destiny and issue of the greatest consequence to the  greatest number were joined, 'til death do us part, damn the torpedoes, full speed  ahead. It is because of such hard-earned, glorious moments as this we are  reassured God still blesses America from sea to shining sea.

 For his opponents offered nothing better, just mindless opposition without substance,  sanity, sensitivity or surcease to an issue which every other important nation on  Spaceship Earth had already solved to the furthest extent of its economic resources  and where the continuing failure to act was nothing less than wanton, glaring,  irresponsible and indefensible. Obama was thus perfectly positioned on the high  road whilst Republicans insisted on taking the low, their every move outmoded,  selfish, antiquated, poisonous to the body politic and the essence that makes us  Americans and reflects our very  best.

 On this basis so-called ObamaCare moved ahead, each battle necessary, each  battle hard fought, each draining, exhausting, stressful, but each a victory to be  proud of. The President's health care law with its insurance mandate, subsidies  for low-income people, and online marketplace (all modeled on a Massachusetts  program) won narrow approval in Congress in 2010, survived a Supreme Court  challenge, and failed in 2012 to become the fatal political weapon that would  transfer the White House to the righteous right. It was brutal, demanding, draining,  since its opponents, masters of insinuation, invective, and insolent  misrepresentation, knew no bounds of any kind or money they would spend.  And all that, of course, made victory the sweeter.

 Then the problem no one anticipated... just the way Nemesis likes it...

 Imagine the scene just the other day, October 1, 2013, launch day for the  Great Republic's greatest program in health care and insurance. The president  is there; Health and Human Services Secretary Kathleen Sebelius arrives,  while assorted worthies tumble over themselves to watch history being made,  eager to brag about what they did to achieve this moment of humanity and true  national security.

 The computer is readied... the president hits the start button into the great and  healthier future. And then... all hell breaks lose! For the only thing that worked was  the incredible message on screen at HealthCare.gov, the glaring message that  presaged an avalanche of finger pointing and recriminations, extraordinary even  by Washington's vituperative standards.

  "Health Insurance Marketplace: Please wait. We have a lot of visitors on our site  right now and we're working to make your experience here better. Please wait  here until we send you to the login page. Thanks for your patience".

 Or, the alternative message, stark, pointed, hopeless, "The System is down at the  moment... Please try again later."

 And so this fiasco has grown apace, a quagmire of incompetence, confusion  and incomprehension for all the people waiting, waiting, still waiting for  attention... and for all the rest of us stirred to righteous rage at how the great  strength of our nation has been so mishandled and applied. Well might Secretary  Sebelius, point person for the president on this historic endeavor, speak of  "this debacle" It was a debacle her own stupendous ineptitude connived to  make worse. See for yourself.

 1) Despite its importance to all, no overall director was ever appointed for the  precise and orderly transaction of essential business and computer procedures.

 2) No person was ever made responsible for end-to-end testing of the system,  its forms, ordering process, etc.

 3) The main contractor on the project, CGI Federal, a unit of the CGI group, warned  the Obama administration of assorted problems with the system. This occurred  on or before September 6, a good three weeks before scheduled launch date.  Appearing before congressional hearings on the matter, Sebelius denied knowing  of such "problems". If she knew and didn't advise the president, she's negligent; if  she didn't, she's incompetent. Take your pick.

 There's more, much more. About the tens of thousands of citizens whose health  insurance was cancelled by the system, setting off alarums across the nation.  About the accessibility of private financial records, easy pickings for hackers.  About the fact that organizers, including the president, could have rescheduled (or  at least recommended rescheduling)  the launch until the system was completely and thoroughly tested, to the confidence of all. About the foolishness of trying to bring  35,000,000 folks into the health care system (give or take a million more or less)  all at once, when a phased in approach made so much more sense. And, of  course,  about the knucklehead who said the system was ready when it most assuredly was  not, thereby triggering this entire, appalling, chaotic situation, so humiliating for  the Great Republic and its hapless president.

 Is any of this important? As the Austrians say, "It's serious... but not important," and  I most assuredly agree. Despite everything from the rabid opposition of far too  many Republicans to the infuriating, abashing, inept commencement, ObamaCare  is here to stay Is it perfect? No. Does it need major tweaks (not least to the  ordering and administrative processes)? Yes. But these are details, details...  for even the avoidable ineptitude of its creators cannot now stop this program  and the health care which will benefit so many. Thus, the Right Honorable Barrack,  despite his lack of involvement and oversight of his marquee program, will  not  have to walk down Pennsylvania Avenue in a clown costume, singing the  song made famous by James Darren,

 "Well, the  joke's on me, I'm off to join the circus/  Oh, Mr. Barnum, save a place for me."

 After all, the real circus isn't Barnum's. It's the one being run from the Oval Office...  whoever the president may be... and we all know it. 

About the Author

 Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is the author of several books, ebooks and over one thousand online articles on a variety of topics.  Republished with author's permission by Ruthsella Corasol http://WorkingAtHome101.com

'Ya got trouble, my friend, right here.' Disappointment, anger, chagrin, shame, sadness, smoldering rage and a sense of betrayal as Westfield State University's embattled President Evan Dobelle faces the music, man, about his egregious spending habits. And those aren't even the worst part of this developing scandal.

by Dr. Jeffrey Lant.

 Author's program note. "Professor" Harold Hill was broke, skinned, impecunious,  the source of his very next meal dubious. But despite threadbare clothes and  growling stomach he maintained one golden, unassailable asset: his unrivaled  ability to dazzle people, motivate people, and arouse people through Big Ideas  and a licketty-split presentation style unmatched anywhere on Earth. He knew  that if he could excite the people, he could pick their pockets. And so, arriving  at River City with nothing, he was undismayed... for he had the means readily  at hand and perfectly honed to get everything... And this, as he walked  confidently into the local pool hall, is precisely what he meant to do.

 Thus was born one of the great moments of the cinema, when in the 1962  film "The Music Man"  Meredeth Willson, as Hill, belts out the best example of  fast-talking, wise-cracking, get up and at 'em quintessentially American  patter ever made. The speech is brilliant; the delivery astonishing, each  word clear as a bell and utterly unmistakable, a rollicking tour de force  leaving us breathless and in awe, and in possession of the certain knowledge  that the good people of River City, the church-going, sober-living, tax-paying,  civic-minded, gullible hicks haven't got a chance against the determined genius  of Hill and his mesmerizing, unbeatable "can-do" approach to any problem.

 I shouldn't be at all surprised if Evan S. Dobelle (born April 22, 1945) mentioned  it was his favorite tune and that "Professor Hill" was his main source of  inspiration. No, it wouldn't surprise me at all.

 "Friends, lemme tell you what I mean."

 The first time you look at Evan Dobelle's resume you cannot help being  impressed. But the second time you review it, if you scrutinize it carefully,  you begin to see certain worrisome aspects. He was elected twice (1971 and  1975) as Republican mayor of Pittsfield, Massachusetts, a notable achievement  which immediately established him as a player in perhaps the most Democratic  state of the Union. Then he ditched the GOP to work for Jimmy Carter's  presidential campaign. He wanted fast promotion (he always did).

 Having been a Republican until just 5 minutes ago, he wanted to be a power in  the Democratic Party. But Timothy Kraft was in the way. No matter. The  Wikipedia  reports that Dobelle charged him with using cocaine in New Orleans (doesn't  everyone?) in 1978.

 Kraft was forced to resign, clearing the way for the exigent Evan, who became  National Chairman of the Carter-Mondale Presidential Committee. The charges  against Kraft were later dropped but the damage was already done, whether  by that you mean Kraft's demise... or Dobelle's ascent.

 Carter, of course, won the election... and  Dobelle got a hefty part of the bling:  he became U.S. Chief of Protocol with the impressive rank of ambassador;  (his wife Kit served as Chief of Protocol and Chief of Staff to First Lady  Rosalynn Carter). Dobelle was also appointed treasurer of the Democratic  National Committee. These were the glory days...  Dobelle was everywhere...

 He had everything necessary to scale the heights of power... yet he never did so.  He knew everyone; everyone knew him. Maybe that was the reason real power  eluded him.  (Note. It was at this time that Dobelle took me on a tour of the  White House, including a visit to the Oval Office, which like everyone else  who sees it, I found smaller and less impressive in person. What was impressive,  however, was how virtually everyone we encountered greeted Dobelle warmly, as  an old friend. Yes, these were the salad days... and of course he dangled the  prospect of a plum job in the Carter White house before me...)

 "It takes judgement, brains, and maturity to score."

 It soon became obvious to the power cognoscenti that Dobelle, like Kansas City,  had gone about as fur as he could go. Seasoned Washingtonians play this  crucial game with withering skill; their acid judgements determine destinies.  Dobelle failed to impress these oracles. So, his mind ever fertile and inventive,  he changed course -- again; this time he selected higher education administration  as his designated bailiwick. And so his rather odd  (and always short-termed)  trajectory began.

 First, from 1987-1990, he was president of Middlesex Community College in  Lowell, Massachusetts. He stayed just long enough to get the library named after  him, but not a minute longer. The irony here is that he was not a notable reader  and has no scholarly work at all.

 >From Lowell, he became president and chancellor of City College of San  Francisco (1990-1995); president of Trinity College, Hartford, Connecticut  (1995-2000), then the University of Hawaii (2001-2004).

 Take a good close look at the dates of his administrative tenures, on average  just about 4 years. Now, as any college administrator knows 4 years is grossly  insufficient to effect major change. Thus Dobelle's accomplishments were  meagre, often merely cosmetic, never pace-setting, though he insisted that  he was a visionary with the future lashed to his chariot. Maybe so, but to old  college hands he came across as glib, superficial, impatient, and lazy; his bags  already packed for quick get-away when the need for real leadership and  major decision making and planning became glaringly apparent.

 It all came to a head during his presidency at the University of Hawaii. There  Dobelle ran through 5 chairmen of the board in a breathtaking 2 1/2 years,  a situation not only unparalleled in Aloha's paradise, but perhaps in all of  higher education's history. One food fight after another occurred, with  Dobelle's wanton spending habits and his disdain for the University's trustees  providing particular flash points. Finally the board had enough... and dismissed  Dobelle "for cause."  Dobelle said he'd sue; the board blinked; a mediated  settlement was the result, a settlement worth millions to Dobelle who, amongst  other things, agreed he would never, ever apply for any other post at the  University, something to which both sides happily subscribed.

 Enter Westfield State College, Dobelle's latest feeding trough.

 People like Evan Dobelle, so generous, so profligate with Other People's Money,  so niggardly with their own funds, always need a host to feed on; all parasites  do. And in Westfield, Massachusetts he found one tailor-made for his habits --  and his expansive, unquenchable needs.

 Brief history of Westfield State.

 Located 45 miles from Hartford, 90 miles from Boston, Westfield's main 256- acre campus is located in a well-tended, leafy neighborhood. It was founded  in 1839 at the behest of and with the enthusiastic support of Horace Mann (1796-  1859), the premier educator of the Great Republic. He wanted Westfield to serve  the needs of the Commonwealth, producing citizens who would be a credit to God,  the republic, Massachusetts, its business and industry, and, of course, Westfield  itself.

 It was a noble objective... and on this basis the institution prospered, with the  overwhelming majority of its graduates women who become the teachers that  transformed immigrants into Americans.

 It was crucial work and it was done thoroughly and well. Sadly, in a state where  private institutions reigned supreme, public institutions like Westfield often felt  undervalued and left behind. They often felt sorry for themselves, felt they should  get more than the occasional pat on the head, always an afterthought.

 They were thus positioned for their own Professor Hill. And this Evan Dobelle,  with a catalog of dubious acts and lavish spending longer than Leporello's  (as reported by The Boston Globe, August 18, 2013), brought his specious and  superficial visions, pulsating Big Ideas et al to Westfield, which despite a  stadium of red flags flying appointed him president in December, 2008. The  virgin was well and truly in Bluebeard's experienced hands. He knew precisely  what to do.

 And he'll have fun, fun, fun 'til...

 In 1964, the Beach Boys had a hit on their hands entitled "And she'll have  fun, fun, fun 'til her daddy takes the car keys away." The same applied to our  Evan, only he had fun with a credit card the school's private foundation gave  him for charging dinners with potential donors and other small amounts. It  was a big mistake since Dobelle never met a credit card he didn't like, so  long as he didn't have to pay the bill.

 In the fall of 2008, these bills started to come in and staid, respectable, rather  dull Westfield State (soon to inflate its standing by calling itself a university)  discovered what their popinjay was going to cost them... and their collective  gasp of pocketbook pain and shocked disbelief rang out, for Bluebeard was  having a helluva good time... all at their expense.

 $539,201 on a "celebrity speakers series"... $145,000 on a group trip to Asia...  $58,000 for a campus rock concert... $16,000 for a welcome party at a Brewster  resort... $10,000 for Tanglewood tickets... and on and on and on. My personal  favorite is the $939 bill he racked up taking three journalism students to New  York to shake hands with Katie Couric and dine at Stage Deli and fabled 21.  He wanted them to have the full "Queen for a Day" treatment. Oh, yes, they  were all female and, I'll bet, cuties, each lovier -- and younger -- than the last.

 There was no stopping this born again teenager.. . he thought it, he wanted it,  he got it... especially if it took him away from the institution he was supposed  to be administrating; (78 out-of-state trips in his 68 months as president)... and,  of course, he charged it.

 How could he get away with it? The same way Professor Hill succeeded... by  enthusing, smoozing, taking their minds off their troubles and the merely  necessary and lifting them with the Big Dreams... the dreams he never stayed  around long enough to achieve. Dreams were fun... work for hicks... the hicks  who paid all his outrageous bills, long-suffering, decent, fleeced, regretful, now  exposed to the entire world as the bumpkins they were afraid from the get-go  people would adjudge them.

 As for Dobelle, this time his gig is surely up as his twin Nemeses, the state's  attorney general and inspector general, fueled by leaks from his office,  gather their forces, prepared to pick up every rock to see which of Dobelle's  schemes, chicaneries, plots, stratagems, tactics, hustles, extravagances, and  ploys is underneath  .  It should be most instructive for all... not least for the next institution of higher  learning which has the bright idea of gambling their future on appalling,  unrestrained, irresponsible, fritterin'  Dobelle, never guilty, always innocent, soon  to be available to eat at your fine trough.

About the Author

Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is the author of several books, ebooks, and over one thousand online articles both fiction and non-fiction. Republished with author's permission by Ruthsella Corasol http://WorkingAtHome101.com

Is there a future for the GOP? Yes, but only if they heed these admonitions andrecommendations. Otherwise the party's marginalization will continue, its end certain, ignominious.

 by  Dr. Jeffrey Lant.

Author's program note. Steven Spielberg's important new film "Lincoln" has just been released and not a moment too soon.  It's based on historian Doris Kearns Goodwin's best-selling book "Team of Rivals:The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln."

It's about what it takes to move mountains, manage men, get things done and lead, bending but not abandoning every moral principle or strongly held belief. It is about politics, America's blood sport, and how they are played at the very top where angels fear to tread... and rightly so. There's nothing angelic about the participants or the process. It's a very messy... and absolutely crucial... business that ensures our Democracy works.

For the music to this piece, I have selected "Dixie", written in 1859 by Daniel Decatur Emmett. Yes, the very anthem of sedition and treason. Why? Because Abe Lincoln thought it a fine tune... and because it reminds us that throwing away a good thing, the greatest reel ever written, makes no sense. Leadership, even in music, means enjoying the good; finessing the bad and remembering what Scarlet O'Hara said: "Tonight I could dance with Abe Lincoln himself".... and sailed through a sea of outrage and disapproval to prove her point and have a thoroughly good time.

Loss, bad loss, catastrophic loss.

John Boehner (R-OH), Speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives, is now again the highest ranking Republican in the Great Republic. That wasn't the idea, but it is the result after an unenlightening campaign that rained money but where victory eluded them... and not by a narrow margin either. Like most everyone in America Boehner has his ideas about why this happened... and to his credit he didn't hold back when he addressed his chastened, subdued House colleagues by telephone the day after the victory that didn't happen.

He made it clear they would have to work with the Democrats they viscerally detest... and in this deduction Boehner at last sounded less like the bombastic ultra-partisan, immutable control freak than he usually does but, perhaps for the first time, actually a tad Lincolnesque. For no American politician ever labored so hard or so successfully to work with (and ultimately control) the people necessary to the fruition of his administration and the nation than Lincoln.

He took his political competitors, even his avowed enemies, and plunked them down in his Cabinet... where he could see what they were up to, the better to control them to get his way. It was bold, audacious, unprecedented maybe even fool hardy. And no one knew whether it would succeed or not, not even Abe Lincoln, the most belittled, reviled, and underestimated American politician ever.  He asked every candidate who had opposed his nomination at the Republican convention in Chicago to take a portfolio.

They couldn't believe their good fortune and assumed their power and control of the new government assured. After all they were men of merit, nationally known, nationally renowned. Seward of New York! Chase of Ohio! Cameron of Pennsylvania! Bates of Missouri! No wonder the weak and untried Lincoln wanted them at hand. He would reign. They would rule. Or so they thought...

But Lincoln understood men, understood how to manage them, and bring them along, always finagling, brokering, deal making to accomplish the needful and always with country humor and good sense. Speaker Boehner ought to ensure that every House Member, Democrat and Republican, gets Goodwin's book and masters it.

Don't bet the ranch on Aging White Men.

Lincoln had a goal and never lost sight of it: to preserve the federal Union. He made it clear what he would do to achieve and maintain that goal: anything, everything. If it would help, it was on the table.

"My paramount object in this struggle is to save the Union, and is not either to save or to destroy slavery. If I could save the Union without freeing any slave I would do it, and if I could save it by freeing all the slaves I would do it; and if I could save it by freeing some and leaving others alone I would also do that."

Now have you ever heard Boehner and company say anything like this about the crucial matter of righting America's rickety financial house? You haven't because he hasn't. And until he does, until he says that everything is on the table to achieve the great goal of saving America's finances, the goal will never be achieved and all our lives and endeavors blighted accordingly. This great goal, in short, can not just be accomplished by aging white men, the foundation of the Republican party.

Here are the bleak statistics the GOP must wrestle with, statistics which cost them not just the 2012 presidential election but, if not radically improved, will cost them every future presidential election as well:

Women: 55% Obama, 44% Romney.

Hispanics: 71% Obama, 27% Romney.

Young voters under 30: 60% Obama, 36% Romney.

Black voters: 95% Obama, 4% Romney.

Asian American voters: 80% Obama, 19% Romney.

Note: For the record, I must remind you that these numbers are based on various election-date exit polls and other unofficial surveys. Still, the results of these polls are consistent, and therefore are very much to the point.

Radical outreach required, starting at once.

The staff, offices, and work of the national committees dwindle significantly as soon as the election results are in. This model won't serve the GOP or solve its glaring problem, that it has come to rely upon a group of aging white men who cannot deliver victory in and of themselves. Anyone who can count can see that and the fact that 7,000,000 fewer of these men voted in 2012 than 2008 ought to scare the bejesus out of anyone who wishes the Grand Old Party well. The natural mortality of its favored constituency promises assured cataclysm.

What, then, must be done?

1) Building the new GOP and measurably increasing its voter turn-out in each designated category (women, voters under 30, Asian Americans, etc.) must be an explicit objective. A vigorous title such as "Building the NEW GOP!" should be adopted.

2) Respected office holders should be recruited to head each category and its outreach efforts.

3) Adequate budgets should be drawn up and, with the full assistance of the national party organizations, ample funds raised. This is crucial.

4) IT professionals must be hired to advise on the best way to utilize Internet options, including social media.

5) Internet recruitment campaigns along the lines of "And I'm a Mormon" should be implemented, e.g. "And I'm a Republican".

6) Focus groups should be established to ascertain reasons why designated groups would and, importantly would not, vote Republican. Congressional leadership should be involved in this matter.

7) State legislatures and local civic, business and elected leaders should be canvassed for desirable candidates in each category for federal offices. Such information should be shared with congressional campaign committees to allocate funding, etc.

8) A list of open or vulnerable Democratic representatives and senators should be drawn up. Resources should be raised and concentrated on the most likely targets.

9) All information from national headquarters should be "translated"  into a form most likely to resonate with designated populations.

10) Study the great coalition and team builders who built the modern Democratic party. Congressman Thomas P. "Tip" O'Neill, Jr. (later U.S. Speaker of the House) whose work in a generation changed Massachusetts from solidly Republican to solidly Democratic. Or Senator George McGovern whose signal work transformed overwhelmingly Republican South Dakota into a state "in play" for the Democrats. And, of course, the greatest Democratic coalition builder, Franklin D. Roosevelt, whose transforming brilliance ensured Democratic victories and Republican irrelevance for a generation. These far-sighted, hardworking strategists set the objective for themselves and the Democrats; then did the necessary to achieve it.

Study Lincoln, every fibre, every nuance, every move, every thought.

Remember, the Republican Party, the Grand Old Party, is the party of Lincoln. What this means is that you are charged with doing whatever it takes to keep America strong by keeping its people strong. Sadly too often, and glaringly in 2012, you have forgotten your great charge, lost amongst the negativity and nay-saying which has turned the party of Lincoln into a petty shadow of its historical grandeur and significance.

Changing this reality into a vision to thrill America is your urgent task now. Restore the primacy of great Lincoln's unsurpassed genius for governance and in the process you will not only save the Grand Old Party and make it grander still; you will save the Great Republic, our nation, our people, our mission. Your moment is here. Seize it... for the good of us all.

About the Author Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., providing a wide range of online services for small and-home based businesses. Services include home business training, affiliate marketing training, earn-at-home programs, traffic tools, advertising, webcasting, hosting, design, WordPress Blogs and more. Find out why Worldprofit is considered the # 1 online Home Business Training program by getting a free Associate Membership today. Republished with author's permission by Ruthsella Corasol http://WorkingAtHome101.com.

Wrong right from the start. Problems, muddle, confusion, embarrassment at the Edward M. Kennedy Institute for the United States Senate.

by  Dr. Jeffrey Lant

Author's program note. You've got to wonder whether the late Senator Edward M. Kennedy and his second wife Victoria Reggie ever bothered to read the Constitution of these United States before advancing what the Senator saw as his 'legacy," the Edward M. Kennedy Institute for the United States Senate.

Article 1 Section 1 of the most important and influential document of the Great Republic reads thus:

"All legislative powers herein granted shall be vested in a Congress of the United States, which shall consist of a Senate and House of Representatives."

In crystal clear language, the Constitution lays out what legislative entities there will be, what powers they shall possess, how many representatives there will be in a state, who is eligible to serve, what officers there will be, how they are chosen, etc.

At no time does the Constitution state or imply that one branch shall be considered superior to the other. Instead, the Constitution lucidly makes the point that the two branches of Congress are equal.

This being the case, any discussion of the Congress, its history, and its place in the Great Republic must perforce focus not on one branch or the other but on the two co-equal branches and how they work together to advance the people's business, or not.

Why did Senator Kennedy decide to focus his institute on just one branch? First, because he served in the United States Senate for nearly fifty years and was widely regarded as one of its Grand Old Men. Second, because it was the sole branch of government in which all three famous brothers served, John, Robert, and Edward.

Once the decision was made that the Institute should focus solely on the United States Senate, a host of otherwise avoidable problems was planted and began to grow. These problems are now numerous and acute, threatening an already illogical organization that wiser heads than those in charge would have seen as a disaster waiting to happen, taking prompt remedial action accordingly, not least to save the face of this celebrated family.

The project is born (2003).

When you're a Kennedy of the Camelot Kennedys, it is expected, anticipated that you will have a suitable monument, large, grandiose, something that adds to the family's renowned place in the history of the Great Republic. For after all, to be a Kennedy is to be an historic figure. No one knows this better than the Kennedy in question, the next to be immortalized. Discussions amongst the cognoscenti go something like this: "Should I run for offices for which I am entirely unqualified... or not?" "Should the names of my several spouses and friends with benefits be included in my monument... or not?" "Should this stirring quotation attributed to me but written by my ghost writer be chiselled in my eternal stone... or not?"

Such questions are unending, continual... and treated with the utmost seriousness by those expecting apotheosis, victims all to a collective edifice complex, the latest example being the Kennedy Senate Institute, a whopping 40,000 square feet of hubris. And what is to take place in all that space? Just about everything that has to do with the Senate, including its history, members, operating procedures, educational programs, issues, debates, filibusters, legislative training et al. Only senatorial amours and favorite salad dressings have been left out.

The problem is, the way this institute is organized is egregiously incorrect. Just as love and marriage go together like a horse and carriage, so does the United States Senate go hand-in-hand with the United States House of Representatives. Whilst each has its unique aspects, neither makes complete sense (much less a productive legislative enterprise) without the other. They are two halves of the whole.

Imagine this scenario.

Ms. Martin's 5th graders are learning about how Congress works, how bills become laws...  or not. Emmy Sue asks what happens when a bill passes the Senate. What then? And there's the rub... the Senate-only institute stops just when it needs to continue, so that people understand the complete Congress, the total legislative process, not merely its seigneurial "upper" branch. Even Emmy Sue, age 10, will know something's amiss when the guide says, "Er, the Senate bill goes to the House, but this institute only covers the Senate, so I cannot tell you more...." Even ten-year-olds would consider this weird, bogus, dumb. And they'd be right. That's why there must be a complete halt to the current farce... and a total rethinking of this embarrassing "institute" that has "Keystone cops" written all over it, before there are further cost over runs and another seventy million dollars, more or less, are wasted.

What must be done?

1) The Edward M. Kennedy Institute for the United States Senate as presently configured must be terminated. Its 40,000 square feet should be transferred to the JFK Presidential Library. Suitable spaces within the whole should be carved out for Robert Kennedy, Edward M. Kennedy, their wives and families, personal lives and professional achievements.

2) Focus should shift to a much needed Congress facility where everything about the Congress of the United States, past, present and future, can be showcased and presented to a nation which desperately needs a brilliant state-of-the-art interactive facility, the apogee of American technology, architecture, and historic preservation and presentation.

3) A suitable Washington, D.C. location should be scouted, considered, selected... no other location can or should be reviewed, much less Dorchester, Massachusetts, its current pied-a-terre.

4) ALL current administrators should be graciously, courteously shown the door forthwith.

5) The highest possible blue ribbon advisory board and trustees should be appointed with the sitting president a must as honorary chair. Mrs. Victoria Reggie Kennedy can have an honorable seat amongst them, but no more. An important institution requires important governors, and it is telling that the current institute has none.

6) A complete fund raising plan should be drafted with both private and public funds to be raised.

7) A knowledgeable, hands-on, organizational expert must be appointed, an individual of skills, deep pockets, and determination. My suggestion? Mitt Romney, if the presidency eludes him. After all Romney salvaged the 2002 Olympics. He is even an historic footnote in the story. He ran against Senator Kennedy in 1994, and lost. Mitt would do the project proud. His considerable pride alone would see to that.

Can such a radical shift take place? Of course. IF the principals now bobbling the matter are open to reason and a willingness to put the needs of the Great Republic above their own. Thus we need a "fixer" to arrange matters with grace, kindness, clarity, efficiency and such ruthless and surgical incision as may be called for.

In short, we need Joseph P. Kennedy, Patriarch. He would have seen the point, dragooned the personnel and raised the lavish funds required. Oh, where is Joe Kennedy now, and where shall we find his like -- and fast enough to avoid more muddle and abashment? For these, muddle and abashment, have set the two surviving children of Edward Kennedy against the woman he loved and revealed how toxic this situation already is and how much more poisonous it could get. For now, this is the sad legacy of Edward Moore Kennedy, and until it is firmly taken in hand, rethought and redirected it will fester and deteriorate into rancor, bitterness, and enmity.   Musical note. As the music to accompany this article, I have selected "The Country's In The Very Best of Hands" (music by Gene De Paul; lyrics by Johnny Mercer) from the 1956 production of "Li'l Abner." Go now to hear this ironic gem... and let's hope it motivates the folks so over their heads and misguided at The Edward M. Kennedy Institute for the United States Senate, so obviously not in the best of hands, or anywhere thing near. 
 About the Author

Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., providing a wide range of online services for small and-home based businesses. Services include home business training, affiliate marketing training, earn-at-home programs, traffic tools, advertising, webcasting, hosting, design, WordPress Blogs and more. Find out why Worldprofit is considered the # 1 online Home Business Training program by getting a free Associate Membership today. Republished with author's permission by Ruthsella Corasol  http://WorkingAtHome101.com
 

Why the 2012 presidential campaign is boring me witless... and why that's bad for the Great Republic. A sound off.

by  Dr. Jeffrey Lant.

Author's program note. I have been a political animal my whole life, my entire life since birth, February 16, 1947. I mean, I was chairman of the Puffer School Republican Party in 1960. When Illinois Governor William G. Stratton came down on the school playground for some platitudes, I was the guy who was taken up in his excellency's helicopter. The local paper blazoned "Local Ladd flies high," being a play on my middle name ("Ladd").

The fact that Governor Stratton was wiped out in his bid for a third term (thereby helping hand John F. Kennedy Illinois and the White House) and later made the obligatory stay in the Big House the way most Illinois governors do, in no way diminished my personal thrill. For I was the most political of animals... beguiled by America's real national pastime and blood sport -- politics -- never happier than when sticking pins in the huge maps that turned my adolescent bedroom into Campaign Central, its very walls covered in ephemera -- buttons, posters, autographed photos and brochures featuring the greatest slogans every written -- and ignored. Everything -- absolutely everything -- about politics thrilled me. That was then...

... this is now.   But before I survey the lugubrious aspect of political affairs, before I hold up system and candidates to justifiable obloquy and disgust... before I offer a panoply of needed reforms and recommendations, I shall give you today's music, for if this rollicking set-piece of Americana cannot improve the atmosphere and help revive and reinvigorate, then we are well and truly doomed. And so, with the greatest possible hope, I give you... "Take Me Out To The Ball Game," even more American than the apple pie nobody's grandmother makes home made anymore.

"Take Me Out to the Ball Game."

This 1908 Tin Pan Alley song was written by Jack  Norworth and Albert Von Tilzer. The first notable thing you need to know is neither of its creators had ever attended even a single game prior to writing it, thus providing justifiable license for politicians (and that would be every politician) who talk vehemently and so well about matters they have never seen and know nothing about. (By the way Von Tilzer didn't see his first baseball game until 20 years after his iconic achievement; it took Norworth even longer, 32 years. They helped immortalize a game that clearly neither saw much point of even attending.) Go now to any search engine and find it. Personally I prefer the original 1908 Edison recording by Edward Meeker. He sings it with just the rousing gusto and tongue-in-cheek enthusiasm required.

The boys of Cambridge.

It is now time to tell you something about the presidential candidates you have probably never known or considered before, namely that these men are both card-carrying members of the best and the brightest, that is they are both Harvard boys, Harvard grads. But they were instructed by and matured in two quite different faculties, Law and Business. Once you understand this you begin to understand their manifest strengths -- and weaknesses... and our national predicament.

Barrack Obama was a star at Harvard Law School, right across the street from where I'm writing you. As such he became adept at what clever lawyers do: he learned not to make pies but to divide pies. In other words, he was trained to be expert at dividing what is not his; what he had done nothing to create. Instead, lawyers prosper by taking a sum of anything and making a deal with it, a deal that will give his client as much of what's being cut up as possible; thereby increasing his commission... and wealth. 

Lawyers, especially Harvard trained lawyers, know nothing about the grubby, demanding, even squalid work of building wealth. But when partners fall out, marriages fail, squabbling children fight each other for more than their share, no one is more equipped to fight for you using the tools which, in the right manicured hands, can and will be devastating to opponents. Here the pen (and precedent) are truly mightier than the sword. Barrack Obama is the master of masters here.

On the other side of the River Charles lies the citadel of capitalism and unimaginable wealth, Harvard Business School. Here Mitt Romney, plutocrat, learned the essential secrets that turned him into one of history's richest people. The game went something like this: find a business, review its operations carefully, then surgically remove what is not profitable (including excess labor) to create profit. Then sell the reorganized, vastly more efficient enterprise for maximum -- and fastest -- return on investment.  It was all about what capitalism is always all about -- money. Creating  jobs, employing people and improving their lives had absolutely nothing to do with it.

Now these supremely gifted men are charged with the pressing task of persuading "we the people" that they have what it takes to lead a fractured, factious nation at a perilous time. And so far we are underwhelmed.... and increasingly impatient. As sardonic Miss Peggy Lee sang so well, lyric acid in her voice, "Is that all there is?" Because if that's all there is, then let's keep dancing.

Going through the motions, enthusiasm tepid at best.

In 1948 an execrated little man from Independence, Missouri, a man who by an accident of history was President of the United States wrote his sister a letter which said volumes. He told her he was going to go out across this great nation and present himself to the majesty of the people, show them who he was... and learn more and more still about who they were and what they wanted from him. He choose to do this on America's railroads, the greatest on Earth. Thus, fully committed, with astonishing energy and high good humor and desire to connect, Harry Truman boarded the Ferdinand Magellan and, at even the tiniest whistle stop, gave them hell...

The nation responded by giving him a smile, a hand shake, and the presidency. 

Sadly the candidates have drawn the absolutely wrong conclusion from this event. Harry Truman won not because he whistle-stopped but because he had personal convictions, because he did everything possible to connect with Citizens of the Great Republic, and because he came across as a man of integrity, credibility, and a man who did not just expatiate and make promises, but who actually said what he meant and meant what he said, pledging, not merely promising.

Is there anyone out of rompers who believes that about our candidates as they too "whistle stop"; this time ordinarily in supremely appointed air-conditioned buses, usually in the key state of Ohio?  If so, I don't know this person. And neither do you.

As a result, I have come to the infinitely sad conclusion that neither candidate believes in anything, anything at all, except what is directly related to seizing the White House, the most bully pulpit in the world, and neither one knows how to use it to grasp minds, create visions, and achieve the great successes we expect of our hailed to chief.

That why I am disheartened, dismayed, and increasingly despondent about these men and their vapid campaigns. And I remind them of this: that the truly great create precedents and do not merely follow them. They seize the future and then use the unparalleled resources of both their person and office to achieve success and make this Great Republic greater still. Until this happens, fewer will care, fewer will vote, and more, like me, will become disenchanted by a process that continues to produce so much less than we need and which our Citizens deserve.

In the meantime...

"Take me out to the ball game, Take me out with the crowd: Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack, I don't care if I never get back"

... especially if there's not a better prize in this box.

 About the Author

Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., providing a wide range of online services for small and-home based businesses. Services include home business training, affiliate marketing training, earn-at-home programs, traffic tools, advertising, webcasting, hosting, design, WordPress Blogs and more. Find out why Worldprofit is considered the # 1 online Home Business Training program by getting a free Associate Membership today. Republished with author's permission by Ruthsella Corasol http://WorkingAtHome101.com

New biography of Mitt Romney claims to deliver 'The Real Romney'... but will anyone really care?

by Dr. Jeffrey Lant

Last night, January 19, 2012, The Boston Globe, the biggest and most influential newspaper in New England, pulled out all the stops for two of their best and brightest reporters; Michael Kranish, deputy chief of the Washington bureau of The Boston Globe and Scott Helman, staff writer at The Boston Globe. The occasion was the release of their new biography of former Massachusetts governor Mitt Romney, the likely Republican presidential nominee.

First, my compliments to The Boston Globe. The special reception before a panel on der Mittster was nicely done and gave us all the opportunity to meet the authors and chat with them. The helpers were all efficient, polite, unobtrusive. Perfect.

It looked like a long evening until....

I sought out Michael Kranish first; he seemed like the senior member of the team and I try to get what I need for my article out of the way as soon as possible, so that I can sit back and enjoy the event. I told Kranish I had three brief questions for him.

First, would Romney ever be president? His unpromising answer: "It's possible. It could happen." This was not the incisive, insightful comment I was looking for... and suggested the possibility of a very long evening in the making, one to be ditched as soon as I'd eaten more of their fine brie.

Question 2: will Mormonism be an issue in the campaign? "In some places it could be," he answered. OMG! It was indeed going to be a very long evening.

But I said I wanted to ask him three questions... and it wasn't over until it was over. I ventured my third query. "What was the most unexpected thing about Romney you discovered in your research"? Then the intriguing answer, "What happened at Stanford University" when he was a student there during the Vietnam War, the war that derailed his father's presidential campaign. Ok, this was something promising... at last.

Of father brainwashed and campaign imploded.

Mitt Romney (born 1947) had as his dad a human dynamo called George Romney, celebrated as the rescuer of American Motors (which gave me my push button Rambler in high school), governor of Michigan, member of the Nixon cabinet; a man who rightly thought he had a superb shot at being president of the Great Republic... until...

... he went to Vietnam, where he got star treatment and massive misinformation about how the war was going, how we'd win, how the people loved us, and enough manure to fertilize Connecticut. He came back to America feeling like a fool; then shot himself through the head when he claimed the military had "brainwashed" him. His presidential campaign ended the minute the words were out of his mouth. Nobody wanted as president a man who could be controlled by the military or anyone else. And so George Romney's career ended... providing his son with a lifetime of lessons about what not to do... including the vital necessity to avoid the media whenever possible.

On his way back from Vietnam, Pere Romney stopped to visit Mitt at Stanford... where this devoted son got the opportunity to talk to his father about Life, War, God... of winning, losing, what's important and what isn't. It's the kind of conversation one has with a parent once in a lifetime... and Mitt took it all in and to heart. He would, he vowed, revenge what had happened to his father... being sure to derive all the proper lessons from this seminal event, including the absolute need in his life for God, the God of the Mormons...

God.

To understand Mitt Romney, you must appreciate the importance and influence of his Mormon faith. It has provided the sinews of his life while isolating him from other people; people who often disdained his religion, calling it a "cult" and worse. Mitt learned to be private, very private, about his religion...letting very few people into that side of himself. Privacy, particularly privacy about his faith, became an obsession... something that may have connected him with God... but most assuredly estranged him from his fellow men, the people he'd need if he was ever to run for president.

Money.

What further separated him from the run of mankind was money... he made awesome amounts of it, largely through what are called leveraged buy-outs. This is a practice whereby investors buy a company, with the intention of doing everything they can to make it as profitable as possible, as quickly as possible; so they can sell the whole or its parts, often for staggering return on investment. This almost always involves the firing of employees in an attempt to decrease expenses and increase efficiency. Here Mitt Romney was king; a paragon who knew the delights that come when making only millions in a day was "bad" compared to the brilliant days, and plenty of them, when you made tens, even hundreds of millions lickety-split. Such days did absolutely nothing to connect him with mere mortals... and presented a problem he has still not been able to solve. Every time he got richer, Mitt got more disconnected... and less electable.

So, here we've got a candidate with a perfect marriage, 5 sons made by Disney, nary a scandal to be had... richer that God Himself... super bright... the hardest worker on the planet... but a loser for all that, because he just cannot connect with people and their everyday concerns to save his life.

Thus as I roamed the thin crowd talking with people, who were very keen to be asked their opinion about Mitt and his prospects, the temperature never rose above "tepid." Yes, right smack dab in the middle of Boston, capital of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts that Mitt had reigned over as governor (2003-2007), he couldn't have thrown off less heat. And so, the people whom he needed so desperately to make him president evinced absolutely no excitement at all, much less any abiding glow.

And you could see this puzzled authors Kranish and Helman because their unauthorized biography (without a single interview with Mitt), into which they had poured time, life and commitment could only go as far as its subject, and not an inch more. If he sailed into the White House, their book (which I made sure they both autographed) would have the legs most political books never do, but if the world was as lukewarm as the folks in their audience, their $30 book (praised though it was by the usual East Coast media suspects) was DOA...

That's why they came back to this point several times: awkward and disconnected as Mitt was in public, he was in private something of a cut-up (of the wonk variety), a man who could tell a story, give a hug, engage... even (and this arrested my attention for sure) moon walk while singing tunes from the Grateful Dead, tunes like "There's Whiskey In The Jug", an odd favorite for a tea-totalling Mormon:

"Mush-a ring dum-a do dum-a da Whack for my daddy-o. Whack for my daddy-o There's whiskey in the jar."

But this, though it made me smile and nod my head in wonderment was not the highlight of the evening. That was the rapt attention and joy in Aime Joseph. You see Mr. Joseph is my driver, a Haitian by birth, obsessed with American politics, always quizzing me about political people and their measures. He dressed up for this event, and imbibed every word with the utmost focus and concentration. "We have nothing like this in Haiti," he said as I gave him the present of a lifetime, an autographed copy of the book. And when he saw me about to drop it, he grabbed it from my hand, the better to ensure it did not fall; chiding me for lack of care with this valuable artifact.

And I saw so clearly what was the best part of all: the fact that this kind of forum, this kind of book, this kind of open dialogue and honest conversation still was foreign to most of the world... and the thing we should be most proud of, our gift to the world and our collective future.

Now, go to any search engine and find "Whiskey in the jug," and imagine Mitt moon walking to it... If there's enough whiskey in the jug, that should be no problem.

*** What do you think? We invite you to post your comments below.

About the Author

Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., providing a wide range of online services for small and-home based businesses. Services include home business training, affiliate marketing training, earn-at-home programs, traffic tools, advertising, webcasting, hosting, design, WordPress Blogs and more. Find out why Worldprofit is considered the # 1 online Home Business Training program by getting a free Associate Membership today. Republished with author's permission by Ruthsella Corasol http://WorkingAtHome101.com.