Happy New Year! These jerks still have $2 billion

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No one could have foreseen it, but the end of the year is upon us, and an agreement to avert the fiscal cliff is not in place. We all kind of knew that Congress was not working properly, that it had quantitatively passed fewer laws and qualitatively reached less agreement than the infamous do-nothing Congress of the Truman administration. Now we have concrete evidence. Not to put too fine a point on it, but Congress has failed, as Chris Cillizza and Aaron Blake observe. Maybe it’s because they lack individual incentives to function as a group. Maybe it’s because they reflect our degraded discourse. Maybe it’s because one party has defined itself in opposition to the political system even as it does everything it can to become the most part of it. I don’t know, but the result is clear and incontrovertible.

It is also maybe not such a big deal. Chances are, the federal government will stay its hand before it pushes the knife all the way into itself. The stock market will freak out, but chances are the changes in our tax code will be undone before April arrives. Spending will likely be uncut, too, before it has a chance to wreck the economy. And, more importantly, the world does not begin and end at the doors to the United States capital. As much as we like to forget it around here, there is more to life than politics. There is even more to life than politics and culture. A new year is upon us, and the future is unwritten, as always. The recent future—better known as the past—was written poorly. But an author is measured by the sum of his successes, not his average, and tomorrow is a clean white sheet. Take up your pen, gentle reader, and drive it forward in to the quivering eyeball of your dreams. Or keep doing whatever and saying you’ll fix everything later. Dealer’s choice.

Friday links! Mess happening edition

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Combat! blog’s fleet of private jets, currently outsourced to United Airlines—motto: for $85 we’ll spit on it first—has run into a bit of a snag, and I’m going to spend much of the day straightening it out. You know what that means: extremely half-assed Friday links. You could just turn to Facebook right now, since I already have your precious clicks. Or you could criticize my output in the Comments section, although as Alex Pappademas points out in Grantland, objective standards of success and failure are hard to come by in our increasingly fragmented culture. Ours is the kind of alienated multi-society that leads a former Olympian to become a pricey Vegas call girl, although it’s possible she just did that for fun. The important thing is that we judge her, and judge her harshly—as does our Smoking Gun reporter in a series of jarring intrusions. Welcome to the new journalism—a place where those who report cannot believe the stupidity of those reported upon. Suzy Favor Hamilton should have retired with dignity/hepatitis like Aleksander Emelianenko. If you don’t know who that is, you need to start watching the UFC immediately, or at least this weekend, when it airs. Prime yourself by reading Ben al-Fowlkes’s generous profile of Chris Leben, the tough/self-destructive/fascinating middleweight who will eventually not get another chance. It’s all glory now, though, until he steps into the cage. On a related note, we’ll be back soon with actual blog. In the meantime, I have to hurtle through the air in a metal tube full of jerks.

Congress on plan to wreck nation: not our fault

Boehner Reid

This picture has been consistently described as a hug.

My favorite part of the slow news period between Christmas and the New Year is the Times’s daily countdown to fiscal armageddon. This morning, Harry Reid pretty much told us all to buy canned food. According to the Times, he spent much of his day on the Senate floor “excoriating” House Republicans for their refusal to consider a bill extending the Bush tax cuts on households that make less than $250,000 a year. Thus excoriated, the House stayed home. We are going over that cliff. Having imposed a future penalty no one wanted in order to force itself to come to agreement, Congress has argued its way into penalization. The legislative branch of the US government is like an addict who flushes his drugs down the toilet and then drowns.

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Merry former Christmas from Liberace

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q9nO9Ro_kd4

The stockings were emptied; the nog was congealed, and Jesus had come in the night and disappeared again to the North Pole. This morning, per tradition, we gathered around the family table and explained to my brother who Liberace was. As with any unit of culture, the more we described him, the weirder he seemed. Surely, future generations will regard Liberace as an important-though-flawed pioneer in the defining civil rights movement of our time—a sort of lace-festooned Booker T. Washington. Even from our near perspective four decades later, it seems impossible that his audience did not recognize him as gay. Yet there he was in 1969, noting that now the most popular form of music is rock and roll and bidding good night to his mother and never, ever acknowledging his sexuality except with a wink, lest his career be instantly destroyed. Also he made his boyfriend get surgery to look more like him. Ours is a peculiar culture, but I would not trade it for all the Tao in China. We’ll be back tomorrow with paralyzing anxiety re: fiscal cliff. Happy holidays, you guys.

Tagg: Mitt Romney “wanted to be president less than anyone I’ve met in my life”

Like when Stimpy was about to cry

Like when Stimpy was about to cry

Miracle Mike Sebba sent me this long postmortem of the Romney 2012 campaign, in which the candidate’s son says:

He wanted to be president less than anyone I’ve met in my life. He had no desire to . . . run. If he could have found someone else to take his place . . . he would have been ecstatic to step aside. He is a very private person who loves his family deeply and wants to be with them, but he has deep faith in God and he loves his country, but he doesn’t love the attention.

That’s saying something, since Tagg Romney meets only people who might plausibly become president. Why is Mitt Romney so much more likable in defeat? Call it the Citizen Kane effect: a rich person who wants more is a scary monster, but a rich person who has been disappointed is the human condition.

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