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12/21/2004: "Time for Bush"
Many seem outraged by George Dubya being named Time’s Man of the Year, but it doesn’t bother me a bit. OK, maybe just a little bit, but only because the real Man of the Year should have been Karl Rove. After all, it’s pretty clear that “The Architect” was behind the policies that got Bush on the front of the MOTY issue of Time. It was Karl, for example, who pointed out that no President has ever failed to achieve reelection during wartime. But let’s grant that Bush should get the “credit,” since he’s the one who has to actually sign the orders that Karl drafts. So why are people upset about Time’s choice? After all, his margin of reelection wasn’t particularly noteworthy, hardly at all comparable to the last several reelected incumbents (Clinton and Reagan). And consider the depth of polarization that this “uniter” has stimulated. My sense is that most people object to Bush being rewarded for utter incompetence. How else could his record be parsed? In fact, “record” is the right word, since everything Bush has done has set a dubious record for bad results, whether related to jobs, deficits (multiple kinds), estimating cost of pacifications, capture of international terrorists, you name it! Time recognizing Bush is right up there with Bush recognizing Tenet, Franks, and Bremer (has anyone else picked up on the delicious juxtaposition of those events?) But Bush’s record clearly deserves the recognition (let’s not say “honor”) that Time’s spotlighting delivers. The analogy I’d use is Las Vegas Magazine’s gambler of the year (an accolade I just made up – I have no idea whether there is any such magazine or any such feature). Would they pick Joe Sixpack who hit the big slot jackpot? No, they’d want to profile the high roller with the big bankroll who’s at the tables every time you turn around, betting the ranch to the rapt attention of the wannabes. Whether such characters are showing huevos or idiocy, their performance is arresting. Arresting performances of that scale deserve to be spotlighted. The rub, of course, is that it’s our ranch he’s betting. If his high rolling doesn’t pay off (and he’s clearly in the hole), the rent money for the next fifty years is up in smoke!