— The banner quote at Barak Obama's official campaign site.

There are a lot of people who would love to find a politician they can believe in, who truly cares more about principle than principality. A lot of those people are sharp and sophisticated. But Barak just isn't the guy they should buy into.

For what it's worth, I thought when the controversy broke over Obama's long-term pastor the not-quite-right Reverend Wright that it was more a sign of a politician not knowing when to ditch a problematic association than a sign of fealty to anything coming from that pulpit. Being a member of that church gave Obama credibility with his early constituency, and I always assumed it was simply cold calculation that put Barak in those pews.

Nothing I've heard since makes me think any differently.

Still, I liked Obama. He struck me as a smart, articulate political operator who might actually shake things up in Washington. His down-the-line progressive/liberal voting record didn't bother me too much because frankly the Presidency isn't really an Imperial office, and the amount of damage he could do in setting policy from above would be severely limited by his ability to move things (or not) through Congress.

I believe in gridlock, and think it a good thing.

What Obama brought (I thought) was an outsider's perspective to the whole game, impressive native intelligence, and a truckload of charisma. The Obamanicas were not a bug in my mind (unlike the troglodytes who were trolling for Ron Paul) but a feature; the office of the Presidency may not be Imperial, but it is certainly show biz, and both Reagan and Clinton did good by forcing people to respect the position even if they disagreed with the current occupant.

A pair of bookend incidents has changed my mind.

First, something that made a stir, but didn't change the game much. An Obama advisor apparently back-channeled to Canada that Obama wasn't serious about screwing around with NAFTA. A lot of explanations were tossed out by the Obama campaign, Canada tried to make nice-nice, and for the most part it had been forgotten.

Then the Wright controversy comes along, and Barak's "brilliant" speech explaining why it's okay for some people to preach "God Damn America" because you know they don't really mean it. Or something. And those who do have some history, you dig?

That speech was Obama's biggest blunder up until now. A non-apology apology is almost always worse than saying nothing at all, even if the press reports are loudly effusive though a bit muffled because the reporters are so deeply into kissing tuchus. The love goes away. The quotes don't.

Then comes Bitter Gate. Or Cling Gate. Whatever you want to call it. Have to repeat the quote:

"You go into some of these small towns in Pennsylvania, and like a lot of small towns in the Midwest, the jobs have been gone now for 25 years and nothing's replaced them," Obama said. "And they fell through the Clinton Administration, and the Bush Administration, and each successive administration has said that somehow these communities are gonna regenerate and they have not. And it's not surprising then they get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people who aren't like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations."

That's pretty breathtaking. Not since college has someone been more up-front in calling me and my family not-too-smart, morally damaged, pathetic god-bothering gun-loving rednecks.

So yeah, my estimates of Barak's native intelligence took a nosedive, considering a big win in Pennsylvania keeps Hillary! in the race, and that the quote is going to lose a lot of states for Obama in November, assuming he actually gets there.

But then I read this little factoid from Bill Bradley at Pajamas Media:

And from the standpoint of Obama campaign figures, the material was gotten under false pretenses. One top Obama hand speaks of the campaign and candidate being blindsided. Fowler was a supporter, a contributor, an activist, a blogger, not a reporter. With the event closed to the press, Obama spoke with less care than he would have otherwise had he known a reporter, of any sort, was in attendance. [Emphasis added.]

Everybody has been talking like Obama "misspoke". Obama claims it himself. Excuse me, no. He was speaking to ultra-rich San Franciscans from whom he wished to raise money. It was a "Save the Whales" speech, only instead of large marine mammals, Obama wanted these patrons to contribute to the salvation of the Great White Rednecks. Which obviously contribute less to the cultural zeitgeist than do humpback whales, but one must respect all of Gaia's creatures, no matter how vile.

There's are words for a person who will say anything to any crowd, as long as that person thinks the crowds don't overlap. Inspirational ain't in the list. Neither are "ethical", "reliable", "honest", etc. For that matter, in the modern world where cell phones can shoot video and little old sycophantic ladies have blogs, "smart" can no longer be applied either.

So maybe Obama can still bring show-biz glamour to the Office of the Presidency. I don't know; I honestly don't think he can get there now, considering he's bitch-slapped most of middle America. I just feel sorry for the folks who can't let go of the dream of a politician who isn't a Grade A Bastard.

A diver who suffered a fatal shark bite in the Bahamas this week is part of a trend of increasing attacks around the world despite plummeting populations of the majestic fish.

If sharks are so threatened in the world's waters, why are attacks on humans on the rise?

Well, it could be because they're pissed off...

Ronulans screwing up the Pajama Media polls.)

What you don't get is much in the way of traction with the 99.9% who, when confronted by some really odoriferous statements and views, tend to tune the loon out.

Ron Paul has gotten attention from old media because he's this cycle's Republican Freak. (Remember Pat Robertson? How about Pat Buchanan?) The fact that he's also drawn the support of members of the population who each know at least four words of Klingon and aren't afraid to use them, just adds spice to the dish.

(Or sauce for the goose, as Spock might say.)

Note: I left the original version of this post as a comment on Roger L. Simon's blog. I've edited it a bit, but not much.

Today is the first day I stay home with our children alone.

Liz just left for work. She got me up from my too-short nap (I foolishly read the latest Harry Potter for an hour) at 6:30, and both babies went off as soon as she left the room to shower. So instead of drowsing for another half hour or so, it was fuss and feed and change from the get go.

The most either Hunter or Aden sleep at a time is about four hours. Our routine is for me to stay up for them from 10:00 in the evening until 4:00 in the morning so Liz can sleep enough to be coherent during the day. Then I sleep for a couple of hours, get back up, and care for them through the day, then sleep for another three hours after Liz gets home. With luck I'll be able to nap off and on during the day.

So until the twins actually can sleep in the night, I will be one sleep-deprived mofo.

Anyway, after her bottle and having her diaper changed, Hunter has settled right down, dozing in her boppie pillow. Aden on the other hand is wide awake and having none of this quiet-time shit. So he's strapped to my chest in a Baby Bjorn, which in general he thinks is the Best Thing Ever.

And just to do something, I start singing to him:

Nighttime on The City of New Orleans,
Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee.
Half way home, we'll be there by morning
Through the Mississippi darkness
Rolling down to the sea.
And all the towns and people seem
To fade into a bad dream
And the steel rails still ain't heard the news.
The conductor sings his song again,
The passengers will please refrain
This train's got the disappearing railroad blues.

Way back in the early 80's I would occasionally take the train between Charleston WV and Baltimore where I was going to school. It was one of those old-style trains, with the ancient leather seats with an amazing amount of legroom. That train was called the Cardinal, apparently because the Cardinal is the state bird of most of the states the train ran through. As I recall it ran from Chicago to Boston, taking a leisurely, scenic loop in the process. Hence the stop in Charleston.

As far as I know it still does, but I wouldn't bet on it doing so for much longer. Which is a shame, because I would like to take my family back to West Virginia on that train some time. It was a beautiful way to travel.

But now I have a son and he's curled on my chest, and I am singing to him about trains, and I'm remembering being young in a time that was already really past the time of trains, but riding a comfortable old dinosaur into a future I would have no presentiment of whatsoever, and thinking how lucky I was, have been and am.

And I started crying for the first time since they were born.

Life is good.

Good night, America, how are you?
Don't you know me I'm your native son,
I'm the train they call The City of New Orleans,
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.