Steven Taylor’s latest PoliColumn in the Birmingham News attempts to explain the undercurrent of anger in the Democratic Party. In particular, he notes one factor that many have overlooked: the impotence associated with losing control after decades of dominance, particularly in Congress.

The fourth reason for Democrats’ anger, and perhaps the most abstract—but in many ways the most significant—is their deep abiding frustration that the Democratic Party as a whole is experiencing in its role as the minority. Since the 1994 midterm election, the Democratic Party has not controlled the House of Representatives, and only briefly controlled the Senate (and then only because of the defection from the Republican Party of Jim Jeffords of Vermont).

For a party that convincingly, and often by dramatic margins, controlled the House for four decades, and indeed for 29 of 36 Congresses since the New Deal era (1933) and the Senate for all but eight years of that same period, this lack of control is a devastating fact to which I would argue they have not yet adjusted.

To reiterate: Prior to 1994, the last time the Democrats lost control of the whole Congress was in 1953, and that loss of power lasted a mere two years. Given that many members of Congress were in Congress during the era of Democratic domination, it is hard to forget those halcyon days of power.

Of course, anger has been a driving force in American politics since, well, the Mayflower landed, occasional “eras of good feeling” notwithstanding. To the extent there’s more anger in the political ether these days, it probably reflects the relative parity of the parties more than any clear change in tone.

One other point Steven raises in passing is that Democrats “considered [Bush] something of a dim bulb.” This point should not be minimized. Few things are more frustrating than being outsmarted by someone you regard as mentally inferior—and when it’s been happening for three years on a near-daily basis, it’s got to chafe mightily.* Yet there is no sign that Democrats have given up on the “dim bulb” theory—which must make every defeat seem even more frustrating.

Nothing like scooping yourself. D’oh!

The Commissar has a masterful political analysis of The Return of the King. Laugh-out-loud line:

Did enjoy Robert Fisk’s review, “After movie let out, I fell in with a bunch of Orcs, and they beat me up. And I don’t blame them; I would have beaten myself up, too.”

Da.

Nice to see Congress has nothing better to do these days (via Gary Farber).

Matt Stinson identifies the source of Howard Dean’s foot-in-mouth syndrome.

Will Baude is less impressed than usual with my thoughts on the relative value of legalistic and attitudinal approaches to the law and, by extension, on the whole Guantanamo Bay thing.

First, to clarify, I was making an empirical rather than a normative argument. The nature of the Supreme Court is mixed—when there is a clear, controlling precedent that was ignored by a lower court, the behavior of the Court is usually to reverse and remand the decision without scheduling an oral argument (sometimes known as the “Ninth Circuit Smackdown” manoeuver), and when the lower-court decision was legally correct and consistent with precedent, the Court doesn’t grant certiorari. However, when the Court does grant cert—admittedly something it only does in a small minority of cases—the decisions are much more likely to be based on attitudinal considerations, or what normal people call “politics.” That’s the nature of the beast: work hard enough, and you can find a precedent for anything, or find a reason why Case X is distinct from the precedent that decided Case Y. If we’re going to analyze the Court’s decision-making, it should be viewed through this prism. This is one area—and perhaps the only area—where I think a number of political scientists understand more about the judiciary than lawyers do.

One normative issue, then, is how judges on lower courts should behave. The U.S. judiciary is designed as a principal-agent system: there’s a Supreme Court, and inferior courts. The Supremes decide what The Law is, the inferior courts implement The Law, and the Supremes make sure The Law is implemented correctly. Due to workload, however, the Supremes don’t function as a pure principal—some decisions escape their notice, and sometimes the system is gamed to ensure they don’t actually function as the principal (for example, see Piscataway v. Taxman, where a case was deliberately removed from the system to avoid intervention by the principal). Because of this, politicians want to fill the lower courts with mini-Scalias and Reinhardts, rather than wishy-washy O‘Connors,which politicizes the lower courts to no end. Is this a good thing? Probably not. As much as is possible, the law ought to be based on regular, institutionalized procedures—based on laws passed by the legislature, common law, and precedent. However, at the pinnacle of the system, I’m not sure it can be.

However, the larger normative question in this particular case is whether or not Reinhardt (more properly, the 9th Circuit) is right to intervene. On balance, I’d have to say intervention is right. The cost to the administration to justify its action before the judiciary is minimal compared to the potential cost to human liberty if the judiciary defers to executive judgment. At some level, it’s the Carolene question: nobody to the political right of Dennis Kuchinich is going to stick up for the people at Gitmo. At another level, it’s a question of separation of powers—the executive is essentially asserting the right to do whatever it wants without effective oversight from either Congress or the judiciary, including inventing its own secret judicial system out of whole cloth. Surely this ought to be troublesome, particularly to lawyers like Glenn Reynolds and Eugene Volokh, but their collective response seems to be “eh, it’s just Reinhardt” and micro-analysis of how, since we did the same thing with Germans in 1944, or because the sovereign status of Gitmo is subject to some obscure treaty provision, this is all just peachy.

Now, at some level I could care less about the people at Gitmo. I realize to some extent the foreign bleating about them would just be bleating about some other topic if we’d given them an all-expenses paid vacation at Club Med. As a diplomatic matter, I realize that we’re probably carrying water for the Australians and Brits with their detainees (god knows Tony Blair doesn’t want the headache of dealing with the British collaborators with the Taliban). The rest of the detainees are probably much better off at Gitmo than they would be in the hands of the Afghan, Saudi or Pakistani authorities—which is probably what I’d have done with them. That still doesn’t mean that I have to like it—or approve of the administration’s handling of the issue.

As Steven Taylor notes in the latest edition of the Toast-O-Meter, Howard Dean is leading the other Democratic contenders in a lot of national and state polls, including in the key early primary state of New Hampshire, even while his rivals—most notably Joe Lieberman—step up their attacks on him.

So far, attacks from the remainder of the pack have had little effect; however, if this AP account from the campaign trail in Iowa is to be believed, Dean may be starting to feel some heat:

Howard Dean appealed to fellow Democratic presidential candidates Saturday to stop the bitter attack politics that have come to dominate the race for the party’s nomination. The race needs “a little character transplant,” he said.

“It’s not necessary to tear down the other opponents,” said Dean, whose front-running campaign has come increasingly under fire from Democratic rivals.

However, it may be too late for his rivals to do anything about Dean’s long march to the nomination. It’s December 20th, only five weeks before the New Hampshire primary, and all the members of the ABD faction are still in the race, which—as I’ve explained before—is deadly to their collective chances of stopping Dean from gaining the nomination. The electoral rules are clear on this point: the more ways the anti-Dean vote is split in a state, the more delegates Dean will receive. Make no mistake: coalescing around a single ABD candidate won’t stop the Deaniacs’ lemming-like procession behind their leader, but it will mean that credible candidates will get more delegates—you need 15% of the vote in a Congressional district to get delegates, and judging by the polling numbers the only candidates who will be able to do that consistently are Dean and Sharpton, the latter due to the effects of majority-minority districts.

The bottom line: Lieberman, Kerry, and Edwards need to step aside today and let Clark and Gephardt have a fighting chance to get enough delegates between them to stop Dean, or it’s going to be a very long year for Democrats.

Henry Farrell discusses an apparent epidemic of ghost-written letters of reference being sent by professors on behalf of students. Thankfully, nobody’s ever asked me to write my own letter of recommendation—which is just as well, I suppose, as I’ve never been very good at self-promotion. Besides, seeing as I’m an only child, I get more than enough of that from my parents…

Ok, this has got to be the funniest thing I’ve seen in a long while (the whole thread is pretty funny, though).

I saw one of these pizza baking machines today at Wal-Mart while doing the grocery shopping. I’m not sure that I could justify spending $50 for an object that does something my oven seems perfectly capable of doing on its own, albeit more slowly, but I can see some value to it for college kids and people with more tempermental ovens than mine.

Also on the topic of pizza: I’m pretty sure pepperoni isn’t supposed to contain chicken, yet the pepperoni on Tombstone pizzas has “chicken” listed as an ingredient. Someone in Italy should sue.

Michael Jennings has a fascinating post at Samizdata that explains, in part, why I’ve been to Stansted and Gatwick more times than I’ve ever been to Heathrow—and also, in part, why I haven’t set foot in any of those airports (or, for that matter, anywhere else outside North America) in 12 years.

To some extent, the practical problems Michael describes have been reduced by code-sharing and mergers; for example, I could now fly to Britain from Memphis—the relative boonies in American aviation, at least when it comes to "hub" airports—in several dozen different ways, the most convenient of which is probably to take the every-other-day Northwest/KLM flight from Memphis to Amsterdam then any of a number of flights to major British airports via KLMuk from Amsterdam.

Due to the power of TiVo, and my general laziness clearing out my Season Pass list, I’ve had a Season Pass for ESPN2’s “Cold Pizza” two-hour morning show since it started (set to “Keep At Most: 1” so I only kill two hours of space). That isn’t to say I’ve watched every show, mind you; many days, it goes straight into the digital dustbin. But, I’ve given it a shot, and it’s time to review the “good” and “bad”:

• Jay Crawford, the male co-host, is moderately competent.
• Kit Hoover, the female co-host, reminds me of an Ole Miss sorority girl—and a none-too-bright one, at that. (Plus, whatever variant of a southern accent she has is downright painful to listen to.)
• Leslie Maxey, the newswoman, is stuck with the thankless task of newsdrone. She seems reasonably competent when not reading the equivalent of the “local news digest of the national news” from the teleprompter, though.
• Thea Andrews, the catch-all person (I think her actual title is “national correspondent”), seems competent enough, plus she has sort of a Lauren Graham thing going on—as Dave Letterman would say, she’s “easy on the eyes”—and (IMHO) did a better job than Hoover when called on to fill in as co-host once.
• The “guest people do the weather” schtick doesn’t work at any level. Just pay Greg Proops whatever he asks to get him to do the job permanently—or let Andrews do it.
• Whoever thought this show needed a “sideline reporter” should be thrown in a spider hole in Iraq, along with the guy who does it. Apparently, it’s supposed to be funny to have a Jewish guy as the sideline reporter. Newsflash: it isn’t.
• Silly question for Disney: if you’re going to do a morning show, wouldn’t it make more sense to have it in ESPN, a.k.a. “The Mothership,” where it’ll get better ratings?
• Make the frickin’ show more about sports, and less like an obsessively tame version of “The Man Show.”

Frankly, if ESPN wants to do something better in the morning, I think the thing to do is something more like the Saturday and Sunday morning SportsCenter, maybe with a dash of the style of The NFL Network’s “NFL Total Access” (ironically, hosted by Rich Eisen, who was originally interested in the “Cold Pizza” gig): something more casual, but clearly a sports show for the morning viewer rather than a morning show that talks about sports. Put Crawford and Andrews in a casual studio, bring in guests, and have an experienced SportsCenter or ESPNews anchor (Michael Kim?) on hand for sports headlines and highlights at the top and bottom of the hour.

Steven Taylor finally got around to reading the Ehrlich piece I discussed below (in terms of Mickey Kaus’ reaction to it). Quoth Dr. Taylor:

The second problem [with his argument] is more profound: Erhlich seems not to understand American parties. Parties in the US are primarily three things: the candidates themselves, the officeholders who manage to win election, and, above all else, the voters who are willing to put those candidates into office. The institutional existence of the party (the party committee, and so forth) is really minor by comparison to the other aforementioned elements.

This is a restatement of the classic “tripartite division” of the party in political science: the party in the electorate, the party in government (which subsumes both the “candidates” and “officeholders” from Steven’s description), and the party organization (or institution). While parties are institutionally weak, as I reviewed in my previous post, that’s not the whole reality of the situation—parties still have a strong resonance in the electorate (even in the elite bits of the electorate, like the blogosphere: you’ll find relatively few nonpartisan “warbloggers”), and they still help organize competition both in elections and in government.

Anyway, go read what Steven said, as well was what Professor Bainbridge had to say too. (Bonus points: Prof. Bainbridge talks about one of my favorite topics, heuristics, and the value of those heuristics in political decision-making.*)

James Joyner, Dan Drezner and John Cole are among those who note that the United States and United Kingdom have reached an agreement with Libya on dismantling the latter’s nuclear, biological, and chemical weapons programs. Fancy that.

Of course, we all know it was really just Tony’s doing.

I was going to write a long rant about lawyers’ obsessions with such whimsical notions as stare decisis and legalistic reasoning, in connection with the Padilla and Gitmo cases. Thankfully, Will Baude points out a book review by Richard Posner that—while dealing with the seemingly completely different issue of gay marriage—makes a basic point about the judicial construction of rights that seems to escape everyone else who’s ever attended law school:

It should be apparent by now what the problem with Gerstmann’s approach is. Though he is a political scientist as well as a lawyer, his approach to the question of homosexual marriage is legalistic. Find a precedent…, and analogize it to the present case, and use the analogy to put an impossible burden of proof on your opponent, and limit the scope of your rule by rejecting further analogies on however arbitrary a ground, so that the right of a prison inmate to marry is deemed analogous to a right of homosexual marriage but not to a right of polygamous marriage, because the polygamist, unlike the homosexual, is not denied the right to marry the person of his (first) choice.

This is what is called “legal reasoning,” and it is hard to take seriously. For one thing, there is nothing sacrosanct about precedent, especially in the Supreme Court. In Lawrence, the Court overruled a precedent that was not merely analogous to the case at hand, as Turner and Zablocki might be thought analogous to a case involving homosexual marriage, but identical to it. (The case was the notorious Bowers v. Hardwick, which had upheld the validity of criminalizing homosexual sodomy.) For another, it would be child’s play, as a matter of legal casuistry, to limit those two cases to conventional, monogamous, non-incestuous, heterosexual marriage.

Judges like to pretend that their decisions are dictated by “logic,” or by an authoritative text or precedent, because it downplays the element of judicial discretion, which worries people. The pretense wears particularly thin in constitutional cases about marriage and sex, because the Constitution does not say anything about these subjects, and the framers of the Constitution, and of the major amendments, in particular the Fourteenth Amendment, which is the principal source of constitutional rights against the states, were not thinking about marriage, sex, homosexuality, or related topics when they drafted these founding documents. (Neither were the ratifiers.) Decisions such as the four that I have mentioned, together with the Supreme Court’s other well-known sex-related decisions, such as Griswold v. Connecticut (holding that a state cannot forbid married couples to use contraceptives) and Roe v. Wade, are all “political” decisions—not in the narrow Democratic versus Republican sense, but in the sense of being motivated by values not dictated by the orthodox materials of judicial decision-making. Precedent and analogy operate as fig leaves in such cases.

Fundamentally, I don’t think it matters whether or not there’s a legal precedent for Padilla’s detention or the indefinite limbo of detainees at Gitmo. What matters is whether or not they are the right things for the government to be doing, and in my opinion, neither are consistent with American values. Belittle popular punching bag Stephen Reinhardt all you want for saying that—god knows I think he’s an idiot at least half the time—but don’t pretend that your cites are any better than his, because fundamentally they aren’t. It’s all politics, and those who dabble in constitutional law would be well-advised to keep that in mind when discussing the judiciary.

Meanwhile, PG of En Banc gets to the heart of the substance of my uneasiness with Eugene Volokh’s position on the Gitmo detainees. Eugene’s position may (or may not) be legally correct, but it strikes me as morally wrong. Elsewhere: Robert Prather agrees on Padilla and disagrees on Gitmo.

This is my entry in the OTB Beltway Traffic Jam for today.

I broke down and went to see The Return of the King (the third installment of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, for those who reside under rocks) last night. It was very good, despite the air of inevitability that hung over the piece—even someone whose Tolkien is half-remembered and based mostly on cultural osmosis can figure out where the story’s going. And I could have done without the 20 minutes of commercials and trailers before the film.

Anyway, for those into such things, Jacob Levy has more, with spoilers.

It’s been a busy day for wanna-be terrorists in the courts; as James Joyner and One Fine Jay note, the 2nd U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals has ordered the release of alleged dirty bomber José Padilla, a decision both agree with, while the 9th Circuit’s decision that detainees at Guantanamo Bay deserve access to counsel and the normal judiciary, contradicting a decision of the D.C. Circuit, has met with a tepid reaction from Glenn Reynolds and outright disagreement from Professor Bainbridge.

Not being a lawyer—or playing one on TV—myself, my gut instinct is that both decisions are correct, and while there may be some (as yet unclear) value to holding the Guantanamo detainees, I don’t think that value is sufficient to justify the ongoing diplomatic fiasco attached to them—even if countries like Britain and Canada, whose citizens are among the detainees, would probably prefer that the U.S. deal with them at Gitmo rather than dealing with them themselves, even if they won’t say so publically.

Jacob Levy says pretty much everything I had to say about the French government’s decision to go ahead with efforts to ban the display of religious symbols by students in public schools.

Russell Fox is none to impressed by the proposal either.

James Joyner has some thoughts on a Mickey Kaus blog entry exploring the possibility of a third party run by Howard Dean if he doesn’t win the nomination. I honestly don’t think that is likely, or even logistically possible. The two major parties, while at their institutionally weakest state in modern history, still serve an important gatekeeping function in our system; while it’s arguably harder to win a major-party nomination than to gain ballot access on a third-party ticket, the reward of the major-party nomination is the virtually automatic vote of more than 30% of the electorate.

That is not to say that to win the nomination, candidates have to appeal directly to the party base. Registration rules in most states are now weak to nonexistent (part of a 100-year trend started by the “progressive” reforms that reflected a belief in a Tocquevillian ideal of a well-informed rational public rather than the reality of widespread political ignorance) and increased soft money regulations have meant an end to the financial ties between parties and candidates. Instead, the successful candidate in a large field can simply recruit disaffected apartisan ideologues* to his cause and use their support to create an air of inevitability around his campaign to recruit the support of institutional loyalists—the “true partisans,” if you will.

However, Kaus’ belief that we’ll see a breakdown of the two existing parties, at least on the ballot, is at best misguided. There are thousands of Democratic and Republican state legislators who would have to be convinced to remove the existing institutional advantages of their own parties to open the door for a new third party, while the idea of separate parties competing at the presidential level than in other elections seems a tad absurd (I could see separate parties at the state and national levels, but that’s not the same thing, really). There’s enough value attached to the Republican and Democratic labels that it’s likely we’ll see candidates fight over them long after the institutions they represent have been further eviscerated by further campaign finance “reform” and the continued march of the “progressive” legacy.

By the way, I hope some political scientist out there is doing a study of Dean activists, if only so I can steal borrow their data and test some of the hypotheses floating around in my head about them…

Mike of Half-Bakered is soliciting suggestions for a location and date for the first Memphis-area bloggers’ bash. Go forth and comment accordingly.

My (quite possibly now-irrelevant) thoughts on the SciFi Battlestar Galactica mini-series produced by Ron Moore (warning, no spoiler protection):

• As others have noted, the pacing was a tad too slow in Part One. Part of the problem is that you’ve got to set up this BG universe and let us know how it’s similar to—and different from—the BG universe we vaguely recall Lorne Greene having something to do with. Part Two worked much better.
• I think making the BG society seem a lot like ours except the higher technology is pretty sound. It certainly beats the “everyone wears lycra” approach of Trek.
• The “Number Six kills a baby” bit was completely gratuitous. Plus, it was distracting in this scene that the Capricans seemed to have taken over Tollana. The obvious conclusion is that the twelve colonies are populated by Gou‘ald. (Sorry, Stargate SG-1 joke.)
• It’d have been nice to see some of the colonies other than Caprica. Some of the exposition could have been handled that way, too.
• I’ve seen the criticism that a society that is spacefaring should have eliminated cancer. The logic of this statement escapes me completely. Curing cancer and traveling faster than the speed of light seem to be rather orthogonal problems to solve.
• FTL travel in the BG universe is seems similar to how true FTL travel works in Asimov’s Foundation/Empire/Nemesis universe; however, there seems to be some spatial (or temporal?) distortion attached to it, if the camera foreshortening effect is to be believed as a representation of the reality perceived inside the ship.

Now, the open questions file:

• What happened to Kobol that made humans settle the twelve colonies? There was a (not entirely satisfactory) answer in the original BG universe.
• Does Earth actually exist? If so, is it really the 13th colony, or something different? (If life began “out there,” perhaps humans from Earth settled Kobol. This gets around the silly “Earth was settled by spacemen” concept. Plus it means that if they find Earth, it might actually be a useful ally against the Cylons.)
• Are there alien species? The original BG universe said yes, but never showed them: the creators of the Cylons were alien, as were some species the Cylons had killed off—the planet in “Living Legend” was originally home to a non-human species.
• Interestingly, everyone who is obsessed with sex turns out to be a Cylon, while the people who aren’t getting any are human. Is this deliberate?
• Is the “Number Six” in Baltar’s head real? Judging from the evidence, I think not; rather, it seems to be an “anti-conscience” of a sort. The real Number Six probably wouldn’t have allowed Baltar to pick out Aaron Doral, the PR guy (who for some reason reminded me of Mollem from SG-1, but isn’t the same actor) who is a Cylon; would have known what the “personal organizer” was; and would have impeded the investigation of the dead Cylon (Leoben Conoy) from the space station more thoroughly. Plus, she probably couldn’t have communicated with Baltar in the storm at Ragnar Anchorage, and on Colonial One she seems to indirectly call Baltar “God,” which makes more sense in terms of Baltar’s ego than Cylon religious beliefs.
• Are Cylons really reincarnated when they die in new bodies? Number Six and Conoy apparently think so, but if the Number Six in Baltar’s head isn’t real we have zero evidence of this. Is this just a religious belief?
• Are there really just 12 designs of humanoid Cylon? If so, why? There are obviously more than 12 individual humanoid Cylons. (We’ve seen 4 designs: Six, Leoben, Aaron, and Boomer.) How do they tell each other apart? And does the 12 number only include humanoids, or do the metal ones count too? And why did the Cylons decide to make humanoid models?
• Did Baltar really figure out Aaron’s complicity in the Cylon attack? He turns out to be right, but why? The “Cylon detector” was apparently bullshit, if we believe Baltar’s mannerisms and “Number Six.” There’s no way Baltar knew that Adama already somewhat distrusted Aaron because of his interest in getting the Galactica outfitted with a computer network.
• The shielding on the Galactica seems to protect Cylons from the Ragnar radiation; the ship was apparently in the radiation field for hours, yet Boomer showed no ill effects and Aaron only was affected after he got ditched on the station.
• Who left the “there are only twelve models” note for Adama? Baltar is the only human with the knowledge that we know of. But there might be others. There might also be Cylons working against the Cylon plans. Then again, Baltar may not want to explain how he knows there are only 12 models.

Overall, I think it was a very good outing by Moore. Hopefully he’ll have the chance to make it into a series starting in the not-too-distant future.

Matt Stinson posted his thoughts more contemporaneously.

Michael Totten has compiled a round-up of a number of doctored Saddam Hussein photos for your amusement.

Randy Barnett, in writing of his clients’ victory in Raich v. Ashcroft, clings to hopes of legalistic reasoning by the Supreme Court.

It is supremely ironic that the Ninth Circuit is the court of appeals that is taking the Supreme Court’s new Commerce Clause jurisprudence the most seriously. This case illustrates that Federalism is not just for political conservatives, and is a doctrine that provides benefits across ideological lines. If this case does go to the Supreme Court we will learn whether the conservative justices who developed this doctrine have the courage of their convictions when it applies to activities of which they may disapprove, and whether the liberal justices will put their disdain for Lopez and Morrison above the commitment to stare decisis, which would let them do justice in this case.

Excuse me while I snort derisively at the thought of either of these hypothetical scenarios (liberals supporting stare decisis or conservatives sticking up for the principle behind Lopez) coming to pass.

Link via Unlearned Hand at En Banc, who “would love to see the Fab Four grant cert.” I assume that the Fab Four is either the set of liberal or conservative justices, and does not include the notoriously fickle Sandra Day O‘Connor, but I’m at a loss as to which set (the conservative Scalia/Thomas/Kennedy/Rehnquist or liberal Breyer/Souter/Ginsberg/Stevens) is particularly “fab.”

Laurence Simon, in the midst of a rant about a Houston affiliate’s attempts to pump up its ratings, exposes the bad statistics peddled by AC Nielsen:

The samples are ridulously small and unstable, absolutely abysmal when it comes to tracking democraphics other that Yuppie Whitey because of tweeser-sized samples, the numbers are cooked twice, and then the exceptions and loopholes in reporting the results are downright shameful.

The Nielsen sample might be reliable as a national sample, but it’s absolutely hideous once you try to subdivide it for over 300 local markets. Even as a national sample, they should be intellectually honest enough to attach a giant confidence interval (which, based on reports of their sample size, is probably on the order of several ratings points at 95% confidence) to their estimates. It’s a miracle their numbers correspond at all with reality.

Amazing how all the news seems to happen while we’re down. (The appropriate parties have been executed for their roles in our period of downtime, in case you were wondering.)

To review:

• I got rid of about half the beer in the house at a grad student party on Friday night. Less crap to move. Yipee! (Thanks to Brooke and Lindsey for organizing the gathering.)
• I turned 28-going-on-60 on Sunday.
• Someone actually wants to cite part of my dissertation in a book. I’m stunned.
• Steven Taylor had the latest Toast-O-Meter update, with Howard Dean widening his lead over the pack despite increased attacks from the trailing candidates.
• The presumptive Democratic nominee made a speech on foreign policy that somehow failed to mention North Korea.
• Everyone’s favorite Dixiecrat apparently didn’t mind dipping his pen in different-colored ink, so to speak.
• Signifying Nothing went down to ignominious defeat in the Wizbang 2003 Weblog Awards balloting. I blame the butterfly ballot and the use of a first-past-the-post system.
• And, last but not least, coalition forces arrested a biker dude near Tikrit and gave him a lovely shave and a fight to Qatar at taxpayers’ expense.

This is today’s entry in the Beltway Traffic Jam, in case you were wondering about such things.