Ode to Mary Jo

ViRedd

New Member
A Test of Kennedy Currency
Here comes the “Ted Kennedy Memorial Health-Care Bill.”

By Jonah Goldberg


If you read the newspapers or watch the news, you will encounter a long list of accomplishments by the late Sen. Edward M. Kennedy. One thing you’re less likely to hear, however, is that in his death, Kennedy proved Rush Limbaugh right.

In March, the talk-show host and bête noir of progressives everywhere said that the health-care bill wending its way through Congress would eventually be dubbed the “Ted Kennedy Memorial Health-Care Bill.” At the time, the official position of the Democratic party was outrage and disgust.

The Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee initiated a petition drive demanding that the Republican party formally denounce Limbaugh for his “reprehensible” and “truly outrageous” comments.

Fast-forward to a few hours after the announcement of Kennedy’s death. Suddenly, naming the bill after Kennedy would be a moving tribute.

ABC News reports that “the idea of naming the legislation for Kennedy has been quietly circulating for months” but was kicked into overdrive by Sen. Robert Byrd, the Democratic party’s eldest statesman. Intriguingly, this suggests that either Democrats already had the idea when Limbaugh floated it, which would mean their protests were just so much opportunistic and cynical posturing, or they actually got the idea from Limbaugh himself, which would be too ironic for a Tom Wolfe novel.

But that Kennedy’s death should be marked by cynicism, opportunism, and irony is not shocking, given that these qualities are now the hallmarks of the party he largely defined.

The determination of the Democratic party to exploit Kennedy’s death for political gain puts the political commentator who doesn’t wish to speak ill of the dead in something of a bind. So let us be clear that there is no evidence whatsoever that Kennedy himself — or any Kennedy — would object to such a ploy.

Whether one calls it exploitation or heroic perseverance, the Kennedy dynasty’s longevity is best understood as a response to fatal tragedies. Shortly after her husband's murder, Jacqueline Kennedy lamented Lee Harvey Oswald’s inconvenient political views: “It had to be some silly little Communist.”

Fortunately, her husband’s handlers had things well in hand, orchestrating with a compliant media the grand fiction that Kennedy had somehow been a martyr to civil rights, taken out by right-wing “hate.” The real JFK, who cut capital gains taxes and only reluctantly supported Martin Luther King Jr.’s March on Washington, had never been nearly as liberal as the posthumous legend created to give new life to liberalism — and the Kennedy name.

According to the mythmakers, JFK would have pulled us out of Vietnam (and the Oliver Stones say that’s why he was killed). Meanwhile, the real JFK boasted — mere hours before his murder — that he’d massively boosted defense spending and ordered a 600 percent increase on counterinsurgency special forces in Vietnam. The prior March he’d asked Congress to spend 50 cents out of every dollar on defense.

Hence one of the great ironies of Ted Kennedy’s career. He was the chief beneficiary of an inheritance from a brother whose views he didn’t share.

Such contradictions never bothered Ted Kennedy, nor his fellow Democrats, when he was alive, so why should there be compunction now? After all, the Kennedys and the Democrats have mythologized and exploited the deaths of three brothers (and minimized the deaths of Mary Jo Kopechne and Martha Moxley) in order to protect the Kennedy brand. Naming a massive expansion of the federal government after Ted Kennedy, particularly when it was indeed his life’s cause, seems entirely fitting and fair.

My only objection is the notion that somehow anyone but partisan Democrats should be expected to cave in to the “Do it for Teddy” bullying. To listen to some liberals, one gets the sense that conservatives should surrender to something that violates their fundamental principles out of deference to the very man liberals celebrate for never abandoning his fundamental principles. No one expected Ted Kennedy to become a champion of free markets out of deference to Ronald Reagan’s memory.

Now, if liberals want to rally their own troops by putting Kennedy’s name on the bill, that is their right, even if it will likely result in an even more unpopular bill than the ones now under consideration. I suspect, however, that they will be disappointed to discover that the currency of the Kennedy name purchases far less than it once did, thanks in large part to what Ted Kennedy did with it.

 

jrh72582

Well-Known Member
Rush Limbaugh - HA! Funny shit.

It's always Ann Coulter, Rush Limbaugh, Glenn Beck, etc.....

Here are the REAL conservatives:

Conservative: James Burnham (1905-1987), Frank Meyer (1909-1972), Russell Kirk (1918-1994), Irving Kristol (1920), William F. Buckley (1925-2008), Robert Novak (1931-2009), George Will (1941), and William Kristol (1952). Start posting articles by these guys and we'll talk.
 

ViRedd

New Member
Rush Limbaugh - HA! Funny shit.

It's always Ann Coulter, Rush Limbaugh, Glenn Beck, etc.....

Here are the REAL conservatives:

Conservative: James Burnham (1905-1987), Frank Meyer (1909-1972), Russell Kirk (1918-1994), Irving Kristol (1920), William F. Buckley (1925-2008), Robert Novak (1931-2009), George Will (1941), and William Kristol (1952). Start posting articles by these guys and we'll talk.

You forgot John T. Flynn, Frank Chodorov, Garet Garrett and Rose Wilder Lane. :)

And again ... you haven't taken issue with any of Coulter's ideas in the above article.
 

Wavels

Well-Known Member
One of my favorite conservative writers/pundits is Mark Steyn...here is his take on Teddy:


Friday, August 28, 2009
Mark Steyn: Things only a Kennedy could get away with

And by not calling his bluff on Chappaquiddick, Americans became complicit in it.




We are enjoined not to speak ill of the dead. But, when an entire nation – or, at any rate, its "mainstream" media culture – declines to speak the truth about the dead, we are certainly entitled to speak ill of such false eulogists. In its coverage of Sen. Edward M. Kennedy's passing, America's TV networks are creepily reminiscent of those plays Sam Shepard used to write about some dysfunctional inbred hardscrabble Appalachian household where there's a baby buried in the backyard but everyone agreed years ago never to mention it.
In this case, the unmentionable corpse is Mary Jo Kopechne, 1940-1969. If you have to bring up the, ah, circumstances of that year of decease, keep it general, keep it vague. As Kennedy flack Ted Sorensen put it in Time magazine:
"Both a plane crash in Massachusetts in 1964 and the ugly automobile accident on Chappaquiddick Island in 1969 almost cost him his life …"
That's the way to do it! An "accident," "ugly" in some unspecified way, just happened to happen – and only to him, nobody else. Ted's the star, and there's no room to namecheck the bit players. What befell him was … a thing, a place. As Joan Vennochi wrote in The Boston Globe:
"Like all figures in history – and like those in the Bible, for that matter – Kennedy came with flaws. Moses had a temper. Peter betrayed Jesus. Kennedy had Chappaquiddick, a moment of tremendous moral collapse."
Actually, Peter denied Jesus, rather than "betrayed" him, but close enough for Catholic-lite Massachusetts. And if Moses having a temper never led him to leave some gal at the bottom of the Red Sea, well, let's face it, he doesn't have Ted's tremendous legislative legacy, does he? Perhaps it's kinder simply to airbrush out of the record the name of the unfortunate complicating factor on the receiving end of that moment of "tremendous moral collapse." When Kennedy cheerleaders do get around to mentioning her, it's usually to add insult to fatal injury. As Teddy's biographer Adam Clymer wrote, Edward Kennedy's "achievements as a senator have towered over his time, changing the lives of far more Americans than remember the name Mary Jo Kopechne."
You can't make an omelet without breaking chicks, right? I don't know how many lives the senator changed – he certainly changed Mary Jo's – but you're struck less by the precise arithmetic than by the basic equation: How many changed lives justify leaving a human being struggling for breath for up to five hours pressed up against the window in a small, shrinking air pocket in Teddy's Oldsmobile? If the senator had managed to change the lives of even more Americans, would it have been OK to leave a couple more broads down there? Hey, why not? At the Huffington Post, Melissa Lafsky mused on what Mary Jo "would have thought about arguably being a catalyst for the most successful Senate career in history … Who knows – maybe she'd feel it was worth it." What true-believing liberal lass wouldn't be honored to be dispatched by that death panel?
We are all flawed, and most of us are weak, and in hellish moments, at a split-second's notice, confronting the choice that will define us ever after, many of us will fail the test. Perhaps Mary Jo could have been saved; perhaps she would have died anyway. What is true is that Edward Kennedy made her death a certainty. When a man (if you'll forgive the expression) confronts the truth of what he has done, what does honor require? Six years before Chappaquiddick, in the wake of Britain's comparatively very minor "Profumo scandal," the eponymous John Profumo, Her Majesty's Secretary of State for War, resigned from the House of Commons and the Queen's Privy Council and disappeared amid the tenements of the East End to do good works washing dishes and helping with children's playgroups, in anonymity, for the last 40 years of his life. With the exception of one newspaper article to mark the centenary of his charitable mission, he never uttered another word in public again.
Ted Kennedy went a different route. He got kitted out with a neck brace and went on TV and announced the invention of the "Kennedy curse," a concept that yoked him to his murdered brothers as a fellow victim – and not, as Mary Jo perhaps realized in those final hours, the perpetrator. He dared us to call his bluff, and, when we didn't, he made all of us complicit in what he'd done. We are all prey to human frailty, but few of us get to inflict ours on an entire nation.
His defenders would argue that he redeemed himself with his "progressive" agenda, up to and including health care "reform." It was an odd kind of "redemption": In a cooing paean to the senator on a cringe-makingly obsequious edition of NPR's "Diane Rehm Show," Edward Klein of Newsweek fondly recalled that one of Ted's "favorite topics of humor was, indeed, Chappaquiddick itself. He would ask people, 'Have you heard any new jokes about Chappaquiddick?'"
Terrific! Who was that lady I saw you with last night?
Beats me!
Why did the Last Lion cross the road?
To sleep it off!
What do you call 200 Kennedy sycophants at the bottom of a Chappaquiddick pond? A great start, but bad news for NPR guest-bookers! "He was a guy's guy," chortled Edward Klein. Which is one way of putting it.
When a man is capable of what Ted Kennedy did that night in 1969 and in the weeks afterward, what else is he capable of? An NPR listener said the senator's passing marked "the end of civility in the U.S. Congress." Yes, indeed. Who among us does not mourn the lost "civility" of the 1987 Supreme Court hearings? Considering the nomination of Judge Bork, Ted Kennedy rose on the Senate floor and announced that "Robert Bork's America is a land in which women would be forced into back-alley abortions, blacks would sit down at segregated lunch counters, rogue police could break down citizens' doors in midnight raids, schoolchildren could not be taught about evolution."
Whoa! "Liberals" (in the debased contemporary American sense of the term) would have reason to find Borkian jurisprudence uncongenial but to suggest the judge and former solicitor-general favored resegregation of lunch counters is a slander not merely vile but so preposterous that, like his explanation for Chappaquiddick, only a Kennedy could get away with it. If you had to identify a single speech that marked "the end of civility" in American politics, that's a shoo-in.
If a towering giant cares so much about humanity in general, why get hung up on his carelessness with humans in particular? For Kennedy's comrades, the cost was worth it. For the rest of us, it was a high price to pay. And, for Ted himself, who knows? He buried three brothers, and as many nephews, and, as the years took their toll, it looked sometimes as if the only Kennedy son to grow old had had to grow old for all of them. Did he truly believe, as surely as Melissa Lafsky and Co. do, that his indispensability to the republic trumped all else? That Camelot – that "fleeting wisp of glory," that "one brief shining moment" – must run forever, even if "How To Handle A Woman" gets dropped from the score. The senator's actions in the hours and days after emerging from that pond tell us something ugly about Kennedy the man. That he got away with it tells us something ugly about American public life.

http://www.ocregister.com/articles/kennedy-ted-chappaquiddick-2545006-mary-senator
 

ViRedd

New Member
Wow! Great article Wavels. :)

The hero worship of Ted Kennedy says all that needs to be said for the so-called "Progressives." The ends always justify the means, right libbies?
 

The Warlord

Well-Known Member
Isn't that basically a manslaughter charge nowadays when your drunk? Things that make ya go HMMMnnnnnn...
 
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