Dream Job

I wish I had Bill Kristol's job. I wish it were my lot to reap generous compensation for being demonstrably, abysmally wrong about everything all the time. I wish that my continuous wrongheadedness resulted in people soliciting my goofy and completely illogical opinions on television, so that my stupidity and arrogance could influence public debate on key issues. Imagine having a job where you never had to say anything accurate or wise! You could say painfully stupid and misguided things all the time and suffer absolutely no consequences. Man, that's my dream job.

Not only does Kristol get to spout whatever ridiculous nonsense pops into his head on television--but he gets to do so whilst surrounded by people who don't challenge him with inconvenient things like facts and data. Because other reasonably eloquent men capable of passionate rhetorical flourishes sit around and nod agreement at Kristol while utterly silly things roll from his tongue, Bill's ideas manage to have traction in Washington DC amongst powerful people. And consequently American soldiers and Iraqis continue to die because powerful people in DC still listen to him despite ending up in this quagmire after listening to Kristol's jackass bullshit in the first place.

In a sane Republic, Bill Kristol would be in a padded room wearing a foil crown. Each time he talked about the successful progression of Bush's Iraq venture a few thousand volts would be administered to sooth his restless ranting soul. I can see the campus of Shepard Pratt hospital from my office window. They have room for Kristol I'm sure--and Krauthammer, Brooks, Friedman, Klein, etc.