Party of family values news roundup:
The rehabilitation of Callista
Flockhart Bisek Gingrich, her transformation from painted tart to forgiven sinner, begins today with a wan, halfhearted profile in the NYT. This “curious tale of Washington reinvention” seeks to humanize her with details like this:
At 45, 22 years her husband’s junior, Mrs. Gingrich always looks perfectly composed. She favors an almost retro look — platinum hair teased and sprayed, bold-colored suits accessorized by a triple strand of pearls or eye-popping diamond jewelry. In college, friends say, she once signed up for an 8 a.m. bowling class and rolled a 200 wearing a pencil skirt.
Well, good luck with that.
At least some of Mitch Daniels’ reluctance to declare for president may be due to this little-discussed detail from his biography, according to the HuffPo:
In 1993, Cheri Daniels left her husband with their four daughters and married another man in California. She returned a few years later, reconciled with Daniels, and the two were remarried in 1997. That is, in a nutshell, the story. The national press first picked up on it last year when it was buried at the bottom of an 8,600-word Weekly Standard profile.
But much is unknown. Why did she leave Daniels? Why did she come back? That she would be reluctant to publicly answer such delicate questions in front of the nation seems only natural.
The former first family of California, the red-blue union of Maria Shriver and Arnold Schwarzenegger, appears headed for Splitsville with the announcement of their separation yesterday.
These are very apples-oranges items, I realize. To be sure, Daniels and Schwarzenegger have never been culture warriors in the classic sense, and Daniels is infamous in his own party for calling for a ceasefire, so that it can deal with more pressing matters of finance. Of course, when challenged he collapsed like a house of cards, but give him points for trying.
And Schwarzenegger, as the Republican governor of a blue state, wouldn’t even be recognized as one by much of the rest of his party. Not that it stopped them from giving him star-making opportunities at their national conventions. In California, divorce is just another step on the road of life; this is where Ronald Reagan got his, after all.
But Gingrich is gonna have to take every shot aimed at his hypocritical ass, and he’s going to have to smile about it, too. No one manipulated the cultural-conservative wing of the party more shamelessly, while getting his ashes hauled extramaritally, as he did, and as gleefully. Who was it who tied Woody Allen and Susan Smith to the other party? Who led the charge against Bill Clinton? That is one dirty bed he made; now it’s time to lie in it.
In politics, nothing is precisely as it seems, and I’m sure even Gingrich doesn’t think he has a prayer of ever living in the White House, but he’s going to enter the race for his own reasons, which have to do with selling books, upping his speaking fee, and otherwise enriching Newt Inc. After all, someone has to jump into this field, just to give it some credence:
|The Daily Show With Jon Stewart||Mon – Thurs 11p / 10c|
|Indecision 2012 – Good Luck Motherf@*kers Edition – Blather for Elephants|
I used to tell my Republican friends that if they didn’t live by the family-values sword, they wouldn’t have to die by it. Never did any good. The upside was too attractive. True story: I once attended a Dan Quayle rally when he briefly ran for president in…when would that have been? Maybe 2000? I interviewed some people in the crowd, asked them what it was about Quayle that enthused them. To a (wo)man, they all said some version of this: “His marriage.” His marriage to the antimatter Hillary Clinton, Queen Marilyn the Angry. Go figure.
I should get this show on the road. It’s trash day here in the Woods, and I just watched the fourth or fifth raggedy cyclist roll past my recycling bin, looking for empties worth returning for deposit. Sorry, guys, but all that’s in there is three from Trader Joe’s, which I’ve given up on anyone bothering to return. Michigan stores only have to return deposit on brands they sell, so until someone in the house who will remain nameless breaks his habit of sampling interesting beers from TJ’s, we’ll be eating 60 cents on every six-pack.
Some bloggage for you as I slip out of the room:
I say this periodically, I’m saying it again: What is happening in Mexico these days is the most criminally undercovered story of the year. Maybe it gets more ink in the border states; you tell me. But every single night I run across these stories in my searching (“drug” is part of my search string), and they’re just jaw-dropping. May I remind you, today’s story is tame, comparatively. Usually they’re about mass graves and the dismemberment of corpses, which is simply routine — it’s a terror tactic the drug gangs use. Last week police were collecting the pieces of a woman whose body was chopped to pieces, then distributed throughout “an affluent Mexico City neighborhood,” if I recall correctly.
The 10 worst states to be a woman. Indiana is No. 4. Red meat for lefties; the red-state version would call it the 10 best states to be an Embryo-American.
I need to leave you with something light, so how about some snark from Roy? Hail Caesar!
And have a good day.