Hope for
the Best
"At this juncture, we all
should hope for the best."
So concludes an especially
muddled editorial Feb. 25 in the Wall Street Journal . The muddle was
understandable, given that the topic was on-again, off-again, on-again
Whitewater Independent Counsel Kenneth Starr. The Journal 's editorial
page spent the 1980s vilifying the whole idea of independent counsels as a
scandalous waste of money and an unconstitutional infringement upon executive
power. But that was when Lawrence Walsh was investigating President Reagan. Now
that it's a Democratic president under investigation, the Journal is
naturally conflicted. Its former thundering constitutional anathemas are now
repositioned as genteel "doubts" about the "extra-legal character" of "an
institution still evolving."
Still, "At this juncture, we
all should hope for the best" is remarkably unhelpful advice. Is there any
editorial ever written to which this last sentence could not be attached?
("Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. At this juncture, we all should hope
for the best.") Have we missed some other juncture, in the course of human
events, at which the Journal would not have recommended that we
all hope for the best? Will the Journal inform its loyal readers when we
may abandon the strain of hoping for the best and return to the less exhausting
task of fearing the worst? Do we really need the distinguished Wall Street
Journal editorial page to tell us to hope for the best? One might as well
turn to the Journal 's news pages to be told to "buy low, sell high."
When
contemplating a high-risk course of action, such as hoping for the best, it is
always advisable to get a second opinion. At this juncture, we consulted Bill
Gates. Would he recommend hoping for the best? At this particular juncture? "My
dear fellow," he said, "Don't hope for the best. Demand the best." And
he added, "Buy low, sell high."
Contest
A decade ago, the editor of
this publication staged a contest in another publication to name the
then-burgeoning Iran-Contra scandal. The premise was that scandal handles
ending in "-gate" had become too tiresome, and that "Iran-Contra" was too
clumsy. This turned out to be wrong on both counts, as that scandal came to be
called "Irangate" by some and "Iran-Contra" by most. The winning name in that
contest--"Iranamok"--was delightful, witty, and euphonious, but never took
off.
Undaunted,
let's try again. Anybody got a good name for the now-burgeoning
Democratic-Asian-Connection-Lincoln-Bedroom-Fund-Raising Scandal? Nothing
racist, please, and nothing (once again) ending in "-gate" (unless it's
really good). Post your suggestions to "The Fray," our reader-discussion forum, or send e-mail to [email protected]. First prize will be
a free year's subscription to Slate online (a $19.95 value). Oh, and maybe
we'll throw in a Slate baseball cap.
Reels on
Wheels
Slate
readers who recall John Cassidy's article a few weeks back about a lavish
"Hollywood Party" he attended at the home of Hollywood mogul Mike
Medavoy might have enjoyed a New York Times feature about Medavoy Feb.
25. The party described in the Slate piece was intended to signify Medavoy's
triumph over adversity: new wife, new job, and so on. In the Times
piece, Medavoy touchingly describes the kindness and generosity he discovered
during his adversity period: "Even the courier who used to bring films to me at
home said he'd be happy to bring them to me for nothing." What a heartwarming
story! Calling Frank Capra! Imagine: a fallen mogul almost reduced to seeing
movies in a movie theater, saved from this humiliation by a big-hearted
courier. If more couriers took a moment to show a bit of human compassion for
the film producers in their midst, this old world would be a heckuva better
place.
-- Michael Kinsley
