Wasting away....

Greg Easterbrook has a really great article in the New Republic this week (subscription required) about the amount of sheer waste that goes on in the pentagon.

Serious people (and schlubs) should read it.

A word from the sickbed...

Your humble schlub is home suffering (er, recovering) from periodontal surgery this morning...

All he can do is read the internets.

So he has a recommendation:

Read Peter Beinart's cover story in Time magazine about the unprecedented use of the filibuster by Republicans. It'll give all you good democrats out there plenty of ammo in your fights with Republicans.

If you don't know Beinart, he was the editor of the New Republic for many years -- and he was that sort of mainstream progressive liberal that a guy like me really sympathized with.

I got a big laugh around the Post when I once said (stealing the line from a friend of mine): "I take my political marching orders from Peter Beinart."

Unfortunately, Beinart (like me) was wrong about the Iraq War (he was for it) and wrong about the surge (he was against it) -- so, yes, his stock has diminished somewhat. But I admire the fact that he can admit when he thinks he's wrong. So schlubby.

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BTW: This bloggingheads video with Jonah Goldberg is worth watching.

The real reason to get mad at Andrew Sullivan

Is it me, or is this whole "Andrew Sullivan is an antisemite" thing the most ridiculous internet/media dustup of all time?

I guess I should start by recounting the whole sordid drama:

The arts editor at the New Republic, Leon Wieseltier, wrote an extremely pretentions, extremely personal, and dubiously reasoned attack piece on Sullivan suggesting (without coming right out and saying it) that Sullivan's views on Israel bordered on antisemitism.

The charge is, in a word, ludicrous. (Not just ludicrous -- it's also vile.)

Sullivan replied persuasively. Wiesltier counter-replied (calling Sullivan's response "sentimental"). And, since then, many other writers and bloggers have weighed in.

I've read Andrew Sullivan every day for the past five years (with a few days off here and there) and I have never detected the faintest whiff of antisemtism in his writing. Nor have I seen any writing that could be legitimately described as unfair to Israel (even if I don't always agree).

The real question, however, is:

What the hell was the fight between these two?

The way Sullivan describes it, he and Wieseltier were once BFF. And then there was some falling out. Sullivan coyly demurred to tell us what the falling out was over. And that is something worth getting upset over. Come on, Andrew. Out with it! Your readers have the right to know!

Ya think?

"There was something in us -- although I don't like to admit it -- something of the overearnest, you know?"

-- Bonnie Klein, mother of Naomi Klein in Larissa MacFarquah's profile in this week's New Yorker.

Yes, we know.

Nevertheless, an interesting article. MacFarquah compares her to the 2008 manifestation of Howard Zinn or Noam Chomsky (two people I, for one, would rather not be compared to). But Klein doesn't come off sounding like too much of a nut here.

But, before falling for Klein, I would recommend a more sober look. Specifically, Jonathan Chait's review of The Shock Doctrine which appeared in the New Republic over the summer.

Full Disclosure: I cannot honestly defend or denounce Miss Klein; The Shock Doctrine is sitting in my house, waiting for a read, but I have not gotten to it yet.

Barney Frank: schlub

The New Republic has a fabulous piece by Michelle Cottle about my personal favorite member of Congress, Barney Frank.

I can personally attest to Frank's orneriness and dyspepsia.

A few years ago I had heard some very vague rumblings about how he was sponsoring some sort of diplomatic move to give gay Palestinians political asylum in Israel. It sounded like an interesting story so I called his office to get more information.

I was more than a little surprised when about 15 minutes later Frank himself called me back.

He was all business and I hadn't figured out what to ask him yet.

After I stammered through three or four questions, and asked a question he felt had been covered, he said, "Max, I explained this to you -- now I don't have time for this."

"Oh, OK."

I got off the phone as quickly as possible and that was pretty much the end of that. But, oddly, being dismissed so brusquely by Frank only deepened my respect for him. (It's a technique I've found works a lot with dating; the girls are always more interested in the guys who won't give them the time of day.)

But schlub-watchers out there should note this from the Cottle article:

"One Democratic staffer describes a last minute meeting that congressional leadership called on a late September evening with Henry Paulson and key Hill negotiators: 'Here comes Barney careening around the corner. Slovenly. Unkempt. His shirt was out, and his zipper was down. ... It was classic Barney.'" 

Welcome to the family, Barney.