IF IT’S BROKE, THEN DAMN IT, FIX IT!

The title of this post concisely states the message that the electorate sent yesterday. The exact power of the message may depend on a few thousand votes just south of the Potomac, but the nature of the message is unmistakable.

Clearly, this wasn’t just a simple break; it was a compound fracture. First and perhaps foremost, everyone is tired of the corruption – it was one thing to learn of the existence of an unbelievable hypocrite, Mr. Foley, and it was quite something else to see his disgusting conduct covered up by the leaders of America’s majority party in the House. Democratic partisans might explain the cover up on the fact that Republicans are evil. But that’s not the story here, folks. The Republicans just got fat, that’s all. They got so used to tasting success that they became unaccountable, gluttonous, ruthless and, ultimately, humiliated. Truly, there’s nothing wrong with the Republican party that a vegan diet couldn’t solve. It’s worked for me – I’m now down to 6’ 170 pounds … but I digress …

Why do I think that the GOP lost its compass and pretended that we had, not a democracy, but a one-party system -- one in which the majority party is justified in doing anything it takes to consolidate and expand its power? Consider the election of 2004. At the time of that election, we had virtually as much info as we have now about the Mess-o-Potamia (to use a Jon Stewartism). But what happened? The President who brought us the war got substantially more votes than he did four years earlier. If you were a Republican leader, wouldn’t you feel a bit omnipotent in response to those results? Wouldn’t you feel that your power was a tad absolute? Anyway, we all know what happens with absolute power.

The second fracture manifested last night involves the situation in Iraq. People really want that repaired, and they trust the Dems more than the GOP to repair it. Fair enough, but believe me, fixing that mess is easier said than done. Iraq, before the war, was an egg, and not just any egg. It was a smelly, rotten egg. So what did we do? We unscrambled it. Now, the American public wants it scrambled again. That would be fine, except that the last time I checked, Superman wasn’t on the ballot last night. And say what you want about Nancy Pelosi, but even her defenders admit that she doesn’t have telekinetic powers. She can’t read minds, she can’t lift objects with thoughts alone, and she can’t cause sounds to be seen and sights to be heard. In short, we’re screwed in Iraq and no election can change that. But at least our electorate is now smart enough to recognize the need to do something, anything, to alter our course.

That brings me to the third fracture. It’s called excessive partisanship. For those of you who haven’t read The Creed Room – remember, you can walk your fingers right over to Amazon.com and order it faster than I can say “they’ve declared a victor in Virginia” – perhaps the greatest lesson any of us (including the author) can learn from that book is that we as a society can’t take on any of the major problems in this country or in this world unless we can reach some kind of relevant consensus. Global warming? Poverty? You name it. If this country remains splintered, polarized, and unwilling to listen to “the other guys,” we’ll never muster the power we need to fight those foes. Last night, the electorate seemed to recognize this fact. Last night, they seemed to calling for an era where moderates are being taken seriously, and nobody is allowed to roll over half of America.

9/11 proved that we can come together to battle a group of enemies who gratuitously killed thousands of our citizens. But there are other ways of destroying societies than with military means, and right now, we’re incapable of joining together and battling those enemies. Just look at the global warming situation. Al Gore tried to demonstrate why this is a huge problem – pretty persuasively, if you ask me -- and half of the country reacted simply by laughing at the story teller.

Folks. We have a problem. And that problem cannot be solved by one party rule, at least if that party doesn’t go out of its way to embrace people on the other side of the aisle.

Fortunately, the electorate is on to the above problems. And I, for one, will sleep better accordingly. To those who are afraid of Speaker Pelosi, I would simply say to get over your sexism and recognize that a woman doesn’t have to be a shrinking violet to be worthy of your affection. To those on the other side who are afraid of recounting votes, I would say that at the end of the day, it matters less who controls next year’s senate than that we feel we live in a functioning democracy. And to those who perpetrated those disgusting racist attack ads, let me say that I have no words for you that contain more than four letters. Perhaps I should learn to love my enemies, but I’m still working on that. For now, all that I can say is that your names should be identified, the media should do major exposes on who you are and what you are, and never, ever again should anyone feel free to peddle the type of filth that you peddled during the past several weeks.

For a utopian like me, even when everyone else is celebrating, there’s always time for a Jeremiad. And so, I will end this post with one. Those Democrats out there who are rejoicing, and who are contemplating the day that they can become as gluttonous and complacent as the GOP had become, just consider this: The RNC ran adds with a white pseudo-slut winking at a black candidate. And now, not coincidentally, you continue to live in a country that has never had two black senators in office at the same time.

There’s still work to be done, folks. Plenty of work. But at least some people woke up. And progress, even baby steps, is always appreciated.

TIME TO HONOR JEFFERSON, ADAMS AND FRANKLIN

Some cable network played 1776 on TV last night. I watched a few minutes during halftime of the Monday Night Football game. That's one movie I never grow tired of watching. And no matter how lousy the choices, I never grow tired of voting either.

Whatever you do today, don't forget to vote. If you're around other people, feel free to remind them too. I swear it's not a waste of time. The state of political apathy in America is such that many people who would vote are probably likely to forget if they're not reminded. So feel free to remind them even if you would be insulted if someone reminded you.

Optimally, instead of simply voting, we would all spend the day lit dropping, making phone calls or picking some other task in support of the candidates and party of our choice. Since I'm busy novel writing today, I'm unfortunately not spending my time helping people's votes get counted. But that wasn't the case two years ago, and I doubt it will be the case two years from now. Working on election day is one of my favorite pastimes.

Who's going to win today? I feel quite certain in this prediction: I don't have a friggen clue. This country is so polarized, and almost evenly so, that it has become virtually impossible to predict the results of an election. Of course, that makes election day that much more exciting. I'm envious of my friends on the West Coast who (a) might actually know by the time they go to bed which party is going to take the House and the Senate and (b) give a damn. There are a few people I know -- even a few friends -- who fall into the first category, but not the second. I'm not envious of them.

“PROBLEM? NO PROBLEM.”

Thus sayeth that legendary philosopher, Tony Montana, when he received a proposal that would have seemed daunting to anyone without Olympian ambitions. But Tony was a man of such ambitions that no challenge was too much for him. Whether it involved killing statesmen, killing cops, killing drug dealers, or killing brain cells … he was always the man for the job, regardless of its scope.

So, with the inspiration of that great cultural icon at my side, allow me to tackle what is supposed to be one of the most difficult and profound problems facing humankind. I’m referring to the so-called “problem of evil.”

Anyone who is steeped in religious literature is surely sick of the phrase. You see it everywhere. And if you attend church or synagogue, you hear it over and over again during lectures or even from the pulpit. How can this world be so full of horrible things if God is as “good” as the sages say He is? And if God isn’t so good, or isn’t so powerful as to prevent the parade of horribles, then what kind of deity are we worshipping?

Oi gevalt. You want to kvell about God, but instead, His world leaves you kvetching!

Well, maybe it leaves you kvetching, but not me. And not Tony either. We realize that the problem isn’t with “evil,” it’s with God. More to the point, it’s not with the idea of divinity; it’s with the concept of God that’s been bantered about for the past several thousand years.

Let’s first of all agree on this much: those who posit the existence of a “problem of evil” are correct about one thing. This world doesn’t appear to be the product of a single omni-benevolent, omnipotent deity. What, you mean you’re so happy that you don’t know what I’m talking about? You haven’t encountered enough suffering to know why this “evil” thing is such a big deal? Just walk on down to the Vietnam Memorial – or if you don’t live in my town, fly out here and then go visit. Start saying the names of the dead soldiers one at a time. When you’ve said all 50,000, just remember: more than 100 times that number were killed by Hitler. And all of them died just as senselessly.

You might, of course, contrast those deaths with the “sensible” ones that take place in nature every day. Lions killing gazelles. Wild dogs killing wildebeests. Sensible? Perhaps. But horrible nonetheless. The death of any mammal is heart wrenching, and not just to the deceased but to their families as well. Life is full of those little tragedies. Not one minute goes by without one.

So call it “evil,” or call it “sad,” or call it whatever you want – there’s no question that this world is nearly as replete with sadness as with joy. The question is why any God worthy of the name would allow so much of it to continue? Those who ponder the problem of evil ask themselves the question: if they were God, would they have permitted Hitler to attain such power? Would they have permitted the Serengeti to become so filled with carnivores? Would they have sent us earthquakes in which dozens or hundreds of children – innocent little children – are literally buried alive? Of course not. So what does that say about God? Has he no more heart than Tony Montana, or at least no more power?

Actually, Tony Montana and “God” have the same degree of heart. And the same degree of power. None at all. That’s because they’re both fictional characters. More specifically, they are both fictional people.

The concept of Tony Montana doesn’t frustrate me because he’s a fictional person based, loosely, on real flesh-and-blood men. But “God” is a fictional person that is supposedly based on something that transcends humanity. Why, then, do we continue to paint human portraits of God? Why do we consider it a problem if the world doesn’t resemble what it would look like if it were the product of a benign, human-like ruler?

Seriously, either God is transcendent or God is person-like. Which is it? Can we please stop trying to have it both ways before every intelligent teenager in the world who takes a close look at religious philosophy starts to ask why the emperor isn’t wearing any clothes?

The “sages” are to blame, you know. They’re the ones who continue to perpetuate the idea that God should be analogized to human beings. Maybe it made sense 500 years ago, but now that the terms “free thinker” and “atheist” are becoming synonymous, you’d think that we would realize the dangers in attributing human personality characteristics to the source of all Being.

I heard a justification for divine anthropomorphisms just a few weeks ago from a Jewish writer whom I respect very much. “We’re human beings. We speak in a language that’s inevitably tied to our humanity. So if we want the idea of ‘God’ to have any meaning, we have no choice but to discuss God in human terms.”

Yup, there it is. The rationalization that’s been used by theologians from time immemorial. It’s almost as eternal as God – and very nearly as tragic as God’s world.

There are no profound and yet easy ways to grasp hold of divinity. Sure, we can personify divinity all we want, but while the rewards for our own little egos might be great, we can assure ourselves that we will have lost divinity in the process. Even if you accept as I do that God exists, by fashioning God in our idealized image we have rendered God into a pure fiction. Indeed, by talking about God at times as the Ein Sof – the unknowable, eternal unity – and at other times as the cosmic “person” or the great “father,” we’re essentially admitting that we would rather appropriate God’s name for our own parochial objectives than respect and honor God for what God is. In short, we would rather utilize the name of God than honor it.

And we call that spirituality?

Let us, then, cast aside all the unpalatable rationalizations of the elders and start only with principles they espouse to which we clearly can’t object:. Here’s one: to be human is to be limited in our use of language and in our capacity to conceive of truth. With that principle in mind, let’s play a game based on the idea that we must pick some kind of anthropomorphism to conceive of the divine power. Try this one.

Stop thinking of this planet as the product of a single, omnipotent, omni-benevolent human-like will. Stop thinking about God as a being who deliberates at Time X about how to improve His world, decides what to do at Time Y, and then acts at Time Z in accordance with His ever-benign and yet ever-rational desires. (Some religious people might think that all that happens prior to the commencement of time, but for our purposes it hardly matters whether God is “deistic” or “theistic” – both seem quite implausible given the facts on the ground in Auschwitz and the Serengeti.)

Instead, think of this entire universe – everything we can perceive, measure, or even contemplate measuring – as a single dream of a God who has infinite dreams, though in this case, the dreams have impact on the physical world as well as the mind of the dreamer. Think of reality, in other words, as a multi-verse that expresses not the will of God but the way of God, a way that isn’t so much conscious as supra-conscious. That term connotes that the mind can achieve a state that somehow transcends consciousness, an idea that is common to Eastern spirituality, but is quite foreign to the Western mindset, which worships the will as the highest possible quality of mental life.

The God I’m positing here didn’t choose this world as an expression of love. God simply expresses all the thoughts/desires/impulses, etc. that can possibly be dreamed, or expressed, in one universe or another or another. In the words of Spinoza, God “lacked not material for creating all things from the highest to the lowest degree of perfection, or , to speak more accurately, the laws of his nature were so comprehensive as to suffice for the production of everything that can be conceived by an infinite intellect…”

Does that conception satisfy our hearts? Does it make us feel quite as warm and cuddly about our “Lord”? Does it make us feel that we are living in a world that comports with our ideas of justice? Does it allow us to see God as a trusted “father” or “partner”?

Perhaps not. Then again, if we’re talking about honoring God, we’re not so concerned about asking what God can do for us. We want to know what we can do for God. And we should start by opening our eyes as far as they can open to the realities of a world that is not the product of an idealized super-human creator.

Problem? No problem. What we consider to be signs of “evil” are just manifestations of the infinite manifestations of an infinite mind ... one that is capable of love, hatred, and every other emotion under the sun and beyond. You see, the God I’m talking about exists through us as well, and when we experience love, you can honestly attribute it to God as well. I don’t distinguish between “God” and “reality” except God refers to the infinite, eternal, and ultimate source of reality (Being itself), whereas specific finite beings are mere fragments, mere manifestations of that universal substance.

But let me not let this descend into metaphysical speculation. Some of these points are highly questionable, but others are not. It’s a fact that the “problem of evil” seems to be such a difficult problem precisely because we view God primarily as a super-human being. It’s also a fact that we need not view God in that way in order to practice monotheism or pursue spirituality. We make that choice because our ancestors have done so, and despite the fact that so many of our youth are being turned off to religion because of the illogic of our ancestors’ philosophy.

It’s a challenge worthy of Tony Montana: Say hello to my little friend. It’s called: Reason. When you hear someone fracture enough of its precepts, ask yourself whether that’s really necessary. Isn’t there a better way out of the maze than either blazing the same old trails, or standing in awe at the difficulty of our task? Let’s reserve the emotion of awe for when it’s really deserved. Let’s not posit false dilemmas and label them profound simply because we can’t stomach any of the obvious possible solutions.

WHO NEEDS BOBBY, MARTIN AND JOHN?

I was getting rather annoyed by politics lately – by the media coverage, by the political ads, and certainly by the job that our current Congress is doing. I was lamenting that the lions of politics – Jefferson, Adams and Lincoln, or for that matter the Kennedy’s and M.L. King – are all long gone, and they left us with a pack of rodent-like statesmen instead. So then I began to wonder, could it be I’m just not getting the point of all this? Maybe the problem is that I don’t drink enough. I certainly don’t have anywhere near the red wine that medical research advises us to consume. Maybe I should also be drinking more beer, or taking more shots of Jack Daniels. Presumably, if I started to drink heavily – kind of like a college freshman back in the American golden age of substance abuse – then I’d get in the proper spirit.

So here goes. [The sounds you’re hearing are the sounds of someone drinking a “virtual” six-pack with a double martini chaser.] … Now, I’m beginning to get the idea. … It’s all becoming clearer. This political season makes sense after all. In fact, it’s really quite festive, once you have the proper perspective.

Let’s start with my man, Macaca. He could be talking about why he doesn’t appreciate being called a Jew. Or point out how strange it is to see swarthy types in real (meaning rural) America. For that matter, he could have been talking about the issues. But this guy’s cool. He wants us to focus on his opponent’s novels. It seems they had some nastiness about women. And I for one would much rather think about tawdry fiction than, say, global warming. Wouldn’t you?

What did you say? Macaca’s just jealous? He resents Webb for being able to write novels, when in fact Macaca can’t even read them? That’s nonsense. Macaca can too read. He just would rather hear his favorite books – like the Protocols of the Elders of Zion – on tape. Reading is so, well, it’s so five years ago.

Then there’s that awesome senate race in Tennessee. Oh my God, did you see that chick in the Ford commercial. The one who was winking at Harold, and asking him to call her. Maybe I’m drunk – alright, so I’m definitely drunk -- but damn, she’d look good to me sober. No wonder Ford put her on that commercial. I mean, it’s so cool that he, a politician, gets invited to Playboy parties and that hot chicks like that want to do him. I know some people will say this is irrelevant to the job of being a U.S. Senator, but I’d like to have senators I can relate to – guys who care about more than antitrust and energy policy, and boring crap like that. I want to have people who truly represent America. The Americans I know wouldn’t just show up at a Playboy party if invited; they’d call that blonde back and, well you know … they’d spend some time with her.

[Someone whispers in the narrator’s ear, before spilling some virtual beer on his pants.] What did you say? That commercial was a Republican hatchet job against Ford? Seriously? Are you telling me it was trying to remind southerners of the image of black sexual predators chasing white women? That’s a load of Macaca. What’s next, you’re going to claim that the sinister sounding tom-tom drums in that radio ad about Ford was meant to suggest that he was some sort of malevolent jungle bunny? Please. The Corker campaign couldn’t in a million years intend such a thing. He surely never made the connection between sinister sounding tom-tom drums and stereotypes about his black opponent. This is Tennessee, folks. There’s no racism in Tennessee. Elvis played rock n’ roll. Where do you think that music came from anyway?

That leads me to another Senator. Good ol’ John Kerry. The first thing that pisses me off about Kerry is that he never talks about his sex life. Idiot. This guy is a Democrat who ran for President, has served a zillion years in the senate, and yet he somehow refuses to talk about his sex life or his private parts. Does this dude know anything about history? Jimmie Carter talked about having lust in his heart. He was President, at least for one term. Bill Clinton talked about being a boxers guy (or was it briefs?), and then, for good measure, he hoses that fat chick – spare me the oral-sex-only stuff; he hosed her! And look at him? He was two-term Presidential material. So now, here’s John Kerry, with a face that’s made of wood, who doesn’t know the first thing about how to introduce his lusts to the American public, and he thinks he can be elected President from the Democratic party? Pleeeaase. He’s just the latest in a long line of seemingly-celibate losers: HHH, McGovern (talk about light in the pants), Mondale, Dukakis … Not one Harold Ford or James Webb in the bunch.

But that’s not what I really wanted to talk about. I can’t believe Kerry would tell a joke and botch it up. Christ, that’s never happened to me. OK, so when I’m drunk, I mangle a few syll-aables. But he shouldn’t be drinkin’ and stumpin’ at the same time. Moron.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. He didn’t really tell a joke. He meant to say that only idiots – like he was when he was a kid – would be stupid enough to serve in the military. In other words, he meant to insult the troops. He couldn’t possibly have meant to insult the President; that would be disrespectful. Besides, he didn’t do any better at Yale than Bush did, so why would he insult Bush’s intelligence? Kerry’s not exactly Einstein either, and by now, you’d think he’d know that.

Well, you’re wrong. He meant to tell a joke, he botched it up, and media was wise to cover this story round the clock for days. The last thing we need in this country are celibate Democrats who don’t know how to tell a damned joke right. Talk about one boring place to live.

Politics should never be boring. That’s one lesson that should be taken from the Kerry flap. Macaca gets that lesson. So does Corker, or Ford, or whatever great mind came up with those cool ads in Tennessee. The liberal elite can whine all they want about things like the “low level of political discourse,” but my fellow Joe Sixpacks don’t give a rat’s ass about political discourse. We want images. Images like Clinton’s undies and Lewinsky’s dress. Images like big bad Willie Horton given a “get out of jail free” card and using it to terrorize white people in Southie. Images like seeing that hottie at a party, picturing her talking to us, and having her whisper “hey, call me.”

I’m just sad it all comes to an end on Tuesday. But when the elections are over, at least we’ll have the memories of this festive season. And should we invade another country for no apparent reason other than to promote democracy, at least we’ll know it will all have been worth the costs.

AFFINITIES AND ALLERGIES

There are only two celebrities I ever recall discovering for myself. The first was a girl who hit a little yellow ball. I happened to be watching her on TV play a minor tournament when she was about 15 or 16. It was a weekend afternoon, and yet I was alone sitting in front of the tube watching this un-hyped tourney. I really can’t say why I was watching except that I loved the sport. But that day, I wasn’t just a spectator; I was a fan. The brilliance of this child’s game dazzled me, and when I heard her interviewed after the match – and I saw her as a shy, unassuming, yet intense prodigy -- I was captivated.

That was the first tourney she won in the U.S. She went on to win 22 major tournaments, and I watched nearly all of her major tournament finals. One day, years later, I walked out of my own house because I couldn’t cope with my mother-in-law rooting loudly for this lady’s opponent in the finals of the French Open.

This lady’s name is Steffi Graf. And I am what you would call a fan of hers, wouldn’t you say?

When I first came to appreciate Graf, I was convinced that nobody outside of the tennis world was aware that she even existed. But when I first came to appreciate the second celebrity that I “discovered,” his name was already well known by even casual observers of the American political scene. The difference, I convinced myself, is that most of them knew only his name and a few superficial facts about him. I, on the other hand, felt I instinctively understood his raison d’etre as a politician.

This second celebrity may be called “The Tiger Woods of Politics.” Or, if you prefer, “The Natural.” I choose to believe he will become first African-American President of the United States. His name, of course, is Barack Obama. And my discovery took place during the Democratic Convention of 2004.

At the time of the Convention, I had been working on an early draft of The Creed Room, a novel that very much involves the intersection of politics and religion. I came to the conclusion in the course of writing that book that this country needed to fall into the hands of progressive politicians whose spirituality and values were beyond question and who recognized the need to align progressive politics with the interests of the business community (i.e., in that sense, they should be more like Clinton than either Reagan or Bush). I also decided that the country needs to be led by visionaries who aren’t swayed by whatever is politically expedient at the moment (i.e., in that sense, they should be more like Reagan and Bush than Clinton). In other words, I decided that this nation needs politicians who could demonstrate to the society that religious values are harmonious with liberalism, not antithetical to it, and whose liberalism is infused with such guts and passion that they feel the need to accomplish feats on the grandest of scales. Then I saw Obama speak, and I realized that this was one dude who hardly needed to read my book (at least its sections on politics), because he already knew everything I did and, no doubt, so much more.

Since the Democratic Convention, I’ve followed Obama’s career fairly closely. But obviously, I missed something, because in no way was I prepared for him to indicate during recent weeks that he is actually considering a run for the Presidency in 2008. My initial reaction to learning of his musings was disappointment. You see, I’m convinced that he will, not might, but will be a two-term American President. And I would like to see him serve when the sum of his experience, energy and charisma levels are at their peak. In short, while he might think that he needs America to achieve his greatest ambition, I believe that America needs him more than he needs us. We need someone to rally the country in support of a war on global warming … or a war on poverty and crime … or a war on sectarian strife throughout the world. We need, as someone else once said, a “Uniter, not a Divider.” Other politicians can talk about these goals, but only a rare political genius can conceive of actually delivering the goods. Barak Obama, the handsome, moderate-liberal, born-again Christian, bi-racial former President of the Harvard Law Review -- who Lawrence Tribe called his second best student at Harvard in 30+ years -- appears to be such a genius.

If he is indeed a genius, if he is indeed a “natural,” then why not assume that he knows the best time for a Presidential run? If he says that time is 2008, then why shouldn’t I defer to his judgment? Given that he’s in his mid 40s, Obama wouldn’t appear to have the experience or the gravitas to reach his optimum leadership level until well into the following decade. But appearances can be deceiving, particularly when you’re talking about men whose genius is so great as to defy conventional wisdom.

I almost convinced myself that a 2008 run would be sensible. But then I came across “Run Barack Run” op-ed pieces in the New York Times and the Washington Post. I’m not talking about pieces by liberal columnists like Richard Cohen or Frank Rich. I’m referring to pieces by their conservative counterparts: specifically, Charles Krauthammer and David Brooks.

Krauthammer’s piece was well reasoned, and it never once offended me. He paid tribute to Obama’s talents, and then concluded that Obama should run in 2008 because it would help him get elected in later years. In other words, the 2008 was more like a debutante party in front of the nation that would later come to embrace him when he was more seasoned. “Hmmm,” I thought to myself, “that’s a perspective I hadn’t considered. It might make sense.”

Krauthammer’s columns rarely offend me because the man is as advertised: someone who is almost always going to take the right-wing perspective on any topic. If there’s a right-wing perspective on whether maple trees are better than oak trees, or whether miniature poodles are better than bichon frises, Krauthammer would stake it out. I know where he stands, and more importantly, he makes no attempt to deceive any of his readers --at least that’s what I’ve always thought.

With David Brooks, however, I can’t make quite the same statements. There’s something about his columns that make me gag. Unlike Krauthammer, he tries to come across not as a hard-right guy but as a conservative who is fair and balanced. He constantly attempts to throw bones to the progressives. But that’s what they are – bones! The meat, he always leaves on the right side of the table.

Moreover, unlike George Will, who might actually be a learned man, Brooks comes across as only making pretensions in that direction. Indeed, everything about his style seems to me pretentious – and I fear that some people might actually buy that he is an intellectual and a relatively moderate voice in public affairs. That’s what gives me the creeps.

I might disagree with Krauthammer 99% of the time, but my reactions to his columns rarely reach deep into my heart, let alone my viscera. When it comes to Brooks, however, you could say that I have a physical allergy. I don’t sneeze, I don’t break into hives, but all of my synapsis reflexively question whatever conclusion he’s espousing. Recently, one of those conclusions was that Obama should run for President in 2008.

Brooks’ column on the topic was, characteristically, humorous, though unintendedly so. He sang the praises of Obama for the first 75% of the column, and then said near the end – quite gratuitously – that Brooks himself might not support Obama’s candidacy. Ya’ think? By the time I finished the column, I immediately wondered whether this was all a set up. Why are yellow-dog Republicans urging a Democrat to run? Could it possibly be that they knew something about the perils of such a candidacy that I didn’t – that even Barak “The Natural” Obama didn’t?

Then I found my answer. I took it from women’s sports – not tennis this time, but golf. Perhaps Krauthammer and Brooks were analogizing Obama to that other “natural,” Michelle Wie. Wie hasn’t won a tournament in years because she thrust herself on the major stage prematurely. Whereas Tiger Woods at 15 and 16 had the insight to play other kids his own age and get in the habit of winning, tournament after tournament, Wie has learned simply how to play great shots but, invariably, figure out a way to lose. Sure, she’s demonstrated herself to be a prodigy in the process, but the young Tiger Woods demonstrated himself to be a closer par excellence. Not surprisingly, as an adult, he closes out tournaments better than any golfer in history.

Perhaps the GOP knows that you only have one chance to make a first impression – both with your country and with yourself. Perhaps the GOP knows that 2008 is perhaps Obama’s only chance to screw that impression up. He’s so damned gifted as a politician that his ascendancy seems almost inevitable, but that assumes that he seizes the right time – a time when he is experienced enough to claim what is rightfully his. I am more convinced than ever that 2008 isn’t the time.

So, Barack, if you’re listening, here’s my advice:

“Patience, patience, patience. Tiger started out winning multiple U.S. Amateur titles and he now appears poised to play his best golf a full two decades later. Remember that. And remember, too, that whereas Tiger was allowed a seemingly unlimited number of years to ply his trade at the highest level, you only have eight. We need you to pick those eight years judiciously. We need you to pick a time when this nation is ready to come together in support of a major, transformative initiative. We need you to pick a time when this nation is ready to place you as part of its pantheon – right next to the man who purchased Louisiana, won the war between the states, or beat back the Depression. Have you decided what cause you’re ready to take on? Do that first, and formulate a plan for achieving your goals. Don’t pull a Rumsfeld.

“Finally, whatever you do, don’t pay attention to the advice of pseudo-fans who won’t even promise their support if and when you throw your hat in the ring. Listen to those of us whose support is already in the bag. I never rooted against Steffi Graf; I won’t root against you. And in that regard, I’m hardly alone.”