The Dish

"If the defining doctrine of the Republican Party is limited government, the party must move up from nostalgia and leaven its reverence for Reagan with respect for Madison. As Diggins says, Reaganism tells people comforting and flattering things that they want to hear; the Madisonian persuasion tells them sobering truths that they need to know," – George F. Will, yesterday.

I’m trying to remember a precedent for a sitting prime minister of a foreign country directly attacking a presidential candidate in the United States. Is there one?

Here’s an interesting, official account of the arguments over the possible impeachment of Spiro Agnew. Money quote:

Nixon had quipped that Agnew was his insurance against impeachment, arguing that no one wanted to remove him if it meant elevating Agnew to the presidency. The joke took on reality when Agnew asked House Speaker Carl Albert to request that the House conduct a full inquiry into the charges against him. Agnew reasoned that a vice president could be impeached but not indicted. That line of reasoning, however, also jeopardized the president. For over a century since the failed impeachment of President Andrew Johnson, it had been commonly accepted reasoning that impeachment was an impractical and inappropriate congressional tool against the presidency. Agnew’s impeachment would set a precedent that could be turned against Nixon.

A brief from the solicitor general argued that, while the president was immune from indictment, the vice president was not, since his conviction would not disrupt the workings of the executive branch. Agnew, a proud man filled with moral indignation, reacted to these arguments by digging in his heels and taking a stance that journalists described as "aggressively defensive."

Sounds like Cheney, no?

Chris Matthews bemoans the hurdle Giuliani has to overcome:

One of the smartest conservative critics of his generation, Bruce Bawer, reviews Dinesh D’Souza here. Money quote:

Shortly after "The Enemy at Home" came out, a blogger recalled that in 2003, commenting in the National Review on the fact that "influential figures" in America’s conservative movement felt "that America has become so decadent that we are ‘slouching towards Gomorrah,’" D’Souza wrote:

"If these critics are right, then America should be destroyed."

Well, D’Souza has now made it perfectly clear that he’s one of those critics; and the book he’s written is nothing less than a call for America’s destruction. He is the enemy at home. Treason is the only word for it.

From the Simpsons:

Another classic:

[Obama] would have been with Stephen Douglas in 1858.

Is there a real cultural gulf across the Atlantic? Do the Brits get irony in a way Americans don’t? Simon Pegg, writer of the cult horror comic movie, "Shaun of the Dead," thinks the gulf is exaggerated. Money quote:

Although it is true that we British do use irony a little more often than our special friends in the US. It’s like the kettle to us: it’s always on, whistling slyly in the corner of our daily interactions. To Americans, however, it’s more like a nice teapot, something to be used when the occasion demands it. This is why an ironic comment will sometimes be met with a perplexed smile by an unwary American. Take this exchange that took place between two friends of mine, one British (B), the other American (A):

B: "I had to go to my grandad’s funeral last week."
A: "Sorry to hear that."
B: "Don’t be. It was the first time he ever paid for the drinks."
A: "I see."

Now, my American friend was being neither thick nor obtuse here; he simply didn’t immediately register the need to bury emotion under humour.

Burying emotion under humor: about as good a description of British comedy that I know of. The American, however, might not realize how alcoholism is central to British life and culture, and so the joke falls a little flat. Irony, moreover, is very American. The brilliance of South Park or the Simpsons has no equal in Britain, although Sacha Baron Cohen comes close. But for Cohen’s true genius to come through, he needs America. Irony needs a solid lack of irony for it to work; it needs a continent of earnestness for the sharp slice of its insight to succeed. There’s a reason Oscar Wilde was such a hit in the American heartland.The problem with Britain is that there is too much irony for irony to work. There’s nothing to grip on, no red Britain for blue Britain to satirize, secretly love, and define itself against. British irony is wonderful, but the country has an irony surplus. Or maybe this Brit insight sums up the difference best of all:

Americans can fully appreciate irony. They just don’t feel entirely comfortable using it on each other, in case it causes damage. A bit like how we feel about guns.

The meltdown accelerates.