The congressional downward spiral.

Carl Hulse, in the NYT, writes about Congress's declining public image:

"... both Senate Republicans and Democrats have seen drops in brand images," said a memorandum from the Senate Republican Conference, "but Democrats are losing much more ground than we are."

Democrats and others dispute that notion, saying that Republicans - as members of the party controlling the White House as well as the House and Senate - are suffering the most and will pay the higher political price if the negative view persists into the next election cycle.

Yes, it does seem that each party imagines the other is going to take the brunt of the damage.

I think I'd almost rather look at the pictures of Saddam in his underpants than watch Congress these days.

Glancing up, noticing piles of things everywhere.

A pile of exams, needing grading.

A pile of things brought in from the car after the Ithaca trip, not yet put away.

A pile of bills to pay.

Piles of papers on my desk, some of which need to be put in some permanent place and some thrown away. If I wait longer to deal with this, will that enable me to put more of the things in the trash?

Piles of books I've started to read. If I delay longer trying to finish them, won't it become easier to toss more of them aside as never deserving to be read through?

Piles of magazines I've subscribed to, received, and not even opened. And this includes The New Yorker, which you'd think would at least get paged through to read the cartoons.

Piles of books to sell off at Half-Price Books. Is it even worth the trip dragging them over there and waiting while they determine the price? The task will take an hour, and I'll be lucky to get $25 out of it. But I need a way to rid the house of accumulated rectangular objects.

A pile of dry cleanables. What is more boring and more irritatingly expensive than getting dry-clean-only things cleaned?

A pile of beautiful archival gallery frames for photographs, still wrapped, bought years ago, back before I even had a digital camera. And did you know I've never printed out a single one of the thousands of photographs I've taken with my digital camera, which I've had since March 2004?

A pile of boxes that need to be broken down and tied up for recycling. Piles of newspapers and catalogues that need to be put out for recycling. Next week! Even worse: piles of last years phone books. Can they please stop making phone books -- or at least stop handing them out to people who don't want them?

A pile of framed pictures, recovered from a house I took part in dismantling, after a death that took place years ago.

Piles of videotapes that I just want to throw away after checking to make sure there is nothing important somewhere in them. No movie on videotape, by the way, is important anymore. If it isn't on DVD, I'm never going to watch it.

Piles of 8 mm home movies from the 1950s and 60s, also from the dismantled house, that I was supposed to have transferred on to videotape for everyone's convenience, which I never did because I realized the transfer should be to digital, but that I've also never done.

Piles of CD cases and inserts from CD cases that accumulated when I put all the CDs into a 500 CD player -- years ago.

Piles of vinyl records, which I love, but almost never play.

Piles of foreign coins that are no longer even usable.

Piles of receipts and other papers that I would shred if I had a shredder.

Piles of dust in corners that I remember, but don't look at.

Piles of dishes that haven't been used in years but that take up space because I have a lot of cupboard space.

Piles of food boxes that are long past their sell-by date, that keep their permanent spots in my excessive cupboard space.

Piles of clothes that should be taken over to Goodwill, that are just aging slowly -- some for over 10 years -- in my oversized closet.

Well, maybe if you wouldn't blog so much, you'd have time to deal with the real world that is closing in on you and making you feel so uneasy.

Ah, but I love blogworld, where each day is a slate wiped clean! The archive is always neatly whisked away and always perfectly sorted into chronological order and retrievable, easily, at the push of a button.

The "Piano Man" mystery.

Who is he?

[A] hospital in Kent [has] appealed for help identifying a man who had been found near Sheerness beach in a dripping-wet suit without labels - a man who refused to talk, and whose defining feature was a talent for the piano...

[T]he fact that the labels have been cut out of his clothes ... could mark him out as an asylum-seeker trying to hide his identity, or it could make him a "tactually defensive" autistic savant.

One theory is that the man is autistic and from a foreign country where the disabled are not treated well and that his family, calculating that England would take him in, dumped him on the beach in an unidentifiable condition.

UPDATE: Mystery solved?

You call that "fun"?

Steven Taylor tries his hand at a so-called "fun meme," originally suggested by Stephen Bainbridge: "10 Things I Wouldn’t Do Again If I Could Go Back in Time." In other words, things I wish I'd never done -- because I don't think we're supposed to take account of time travel perplexities. Who knows? If Taylor hadn't bought that Dodge Caravan, maybe all sorts of terrible things would have happened -- things more terrible than having a Dodge Caravan.

But I'm not doing this meme, because if I start listing things I regret, it will just get ugly. I'm not going to put all the things I'm ashamed of in one spot, for easy reference.

I had been thinking -- a propos of my earlier list of things I've never done -- of listing things I happen to have done once. This list might include things I did and regretted doing or hated doing or just things I happened only to do once, like riding a motorcycle. So let's see if I can come up with 10 Things I've Only Done Once:

1. Ridden a motorcycle.

2. Not kept cash that I found lying abandoned on the ground.

3. Broken a bone.

4. Ridden on the tailgate of a station wagon with my legs dangling over the edge.

5. Attempted to make myself vomit after overeating. (Couldn't do it.)

6. Talked about dieting with a Supreme Court Justice.

7. Set a man's hair on fire. (An accident! It flared up and burned out without him noticing.)

8. Not acted entirely submissive in an encounter with the police. (I was 18.)

9. Gotten robbed.

10. Gotten married.

A brief spin on the radio.

I just did the "Midday" show on Minnesota Public Radio, talking about the Constitution and the filibuster. It's always strange to do radio over the telephone while sitting at home. Suddenly struck by hunger ten minutes before I was to go on, I fried up an egg and made a sandwich, hoping to get it eaten before I had to go on. The station calls, then puts you on hold, where you can listen to the show as it approaches your segment. I extracted the info about how much time I had, so I knew when they got to the weather, I needed to swallow. Fortified by egg -- freshly hot-fried egg -- I tried to answer the question of what the Constitution says about the current filibuster controversy.

I should listen to it myself to see what I actually said, but my basic point was that the Constitution doesn't say anything more than "Advice and Consent," and the Senate itself needs to define its own role. Is it purely a political struggle? I think it is, almost entirely. One can refer to general constitutional ideas about balancing and checking power, but in the end, you still have to take responsibility for saying when there is a proper balance and how much one branch should check another. The assertion that the Constitution already tells us the answer is just rhetoric.

The show is live-streaming now, but I think there will be a recording eventually: here.

UPDATE: The recording of today's show is up now. I'm on starting at 27:53 for about 4 minutes. Enjoy!

Checking out the Madison bloggers.

Oscar's blogging from Poland:

The internet cafe is called "Cup of Pleasure," a sort of pseudo-Western sex themed cafe bar featuring cocktails named "Orgasm" and "Sex with Jennifer."

Nina's there too. Here's one of many posts. Go to her main blog and scroll to see all the pictures.

Jeremy was there, but got back, and got recognized as a blogebrity in the Madison Paris airport.

Meanwhile, Tonya hasn't left town, but she has gone to the movies. Within a short space of time she got bamboozled into seeing the "Star Wars" movie and on her own volition attended "Monster-in-Law," after which she mused about how much I would require in cash to see that movie.

I like this new meme, by the way. When you see a bad movie, feel free to speculate about what price I would demand to see it. Actually, I'd charge less for a crappy comedy than for a long, draggy, CGI-ridden epic. On the other hand, a crappy comedy is not a rich source of blogging material, so I'd need to compensate for that. I'm setting the price for "Monster-In-Law" at $275.

How about a supermajority to reject judicial nominees?

Did you know that the Constitution's Framers considered requiring a supermajority vote in the Senate to reject the President's judicial nominees?

Mr. Madison, suggested that the Judges might be appointed by the Executives with the concurrence of 1/3 at least of the 2d. branch. This would unite the advantage of responsibility in the Executive with the security afforded in the 2d. branch agst. any incautious or corrupt nomination by the Executive.

Today, under the filibuster, the idea is that a minority of Senators can defeat the President's nominee, but Madison's idea at one point was that it should take 2/3 of the Senators to reject the nomination.

UPDATE: Betsy Newmark takes this post as a prompt to read through the whole debate on the subject of judicial appointments (and to make her own observations). Really, I recommend reading through the original debates when these questions come up. It is very easy, at the Founders' Constitution website to click on individual clauses of the Constitution and get to the relevant historical materials. It's often quite striking how different these are from the things people are saying about them.

Is it wrong to laugh when people cry?

See if you don't laugh. (Click the photo to activate the clip.) I recommend Daniel. I love the details: the kitty cat and the big mouthful of buckwheat noodles.

(Via Metafilter.)

UPDATE: Link fixed. Sorry!

Benjamin Franklin on picking federal judges.

So what did the actual Framers -- as opposed to the figments of senatorial imagination -- have to say about picking federal judges? They didn't seem to trust anyone very much. I liked this, from Benjamin Franklin:

Docr. Franklin observed that two modes of chusing the Judges had been mentioned, to wit, by the Legislature and by the Executive. He wished such other modes to be suggested as might occur to other gentlemen; it being a point of great moment. He would mention one which he had understood was practiced in Scotland. He then in a brief and entertaining manner related a Scotch mode, in which the nomination proceeded from the Lawyers, who always selected the ablest of the profession in order to get rid of him, and share his practice among themselves. It was here he said the interest of the electors to make the best choice, which should always be made the case if possible.

A real structural safeguard!

Some muddled blather about the filibuster.

On C-Span2, the Senators are still pontificating about the filibuster. I just caught a bit of Senator Mikulsi: "When Thomas Jefferson and Alexander Hamilton sat around at the Constitutional Convention, they wanted..."

BZZZZT!

Thomas Jefferson was not at the Constitutional Convention.

Milkulski assures us the Framers were devoted to checks and balances. I turned it off at that point, but she must have found a way to say they loved checking things so much they'd certainly love any additional checks the members of Congress might think up to make it even harder to get anything done. I did get a chance, however, to hear how seamlessly the Senator transitioned from talking about the Constitution to talking about "tradition."

But the Democrats don't normally base their arguments on "tradition," do they?

Remember the gay marriage issue?

Ah, let's just pay attention to the issue of the day, and make whatever the hell kinds of arguments work for that, and we'll think of a different style of argument to suit other occasions.

Isn't that the way a judge who's out of the mainstream would behave?

Of course not! The judges whom the Democrats fear and label "out of the mainstream" are the ones who are most devoted to a neutral methodology, who can't be counted upon to continue the makeshift, pragmatic case law that reaches the outcomes the Democrats like.

A question about I-90.

Somewhere along I-90 -- either in New York, Pennsylvania, or Ohio -- there's a colossal statue of an Indian -- a stereotypical character in a loincloth and a feathered headdress -- with his arm raised in what for all the world looks like a Nazi salute. Anyone have any information on that thing? It's in miserable taste for at least three reasons. Is there a positive side to it that I'm missing?

UPDATE: A reader sends this link. Apparently, these statues are everywhere. Maybe I saw the "Silver Creek Indian." If so, I was wrong about the loincloth. He's wearing pants. And that Nazi salute is supposed to be the "how" salute. Really? With the palm completely down and the arm fully outstretched? That's not how I remember it from old TV shows. Is the "how" salute considered respectful to Indian traditions? The linked website says:

The Silver Creek Indian was originally at the Iroquois Brewery in Buffalo, NY where he held bottle of beer in his outstretched hand. In the late 1950s, he was sold and moved to the Seneca Pottery and Gift Shop in East Avon, NY. His owners had the hand and bottle cut off and replaced with a saluting hand. When that business closed in 1998, the giant Indian was sold for $18,250 and moved to the Cattaraugus Indian Reservation where he salutes passing cars on I-90.

I guess my interpretation of what's offensive and what isn't should be affected by the fact that the statue is actually on an Indian reservation. And my reading of the hand gesture ought to be affected by knowing the character originally held a bottle of beer.

ANOTHER UPDATE: Another reader suggests the Indian is part of the Muffler Man tradition. I'd thought of that, but believed the mark of the Muffler Man tradition was that the arms were in a position arranged for holding a muffler. But I guess they could redo the arm. Certainly, the basic Muffler Man statue gives you a big head start.

"Incredibly outside of the mainstream."

Yes, I'm following the filibuster fuss. The arguments have all been spelled out already, however, and all that's left is to wait and see how the standoff resolves. But they are debating on the floor of the Senate, so it's on C-Span2, and I go to set the TiVo to record it. Oh, there's Senator Stabenow in front of a big blue sign with the numerals 208 and 10 -- representing the proportion of Bush judicial nominees confirmed. She points at the big numbers didactically and intones "208 to 10" more than once. This is tedious. Of course, I know the Republican answer is that this presentation of the statistics, including the trial level judges, disguises the real level of opposition. Those 10 we opposed, she says, were "incredibly outside of the" -- you could bet your life on what the next word would be -- "mainstream." I reflexively click off.

UPDATE: I'll be on the Midday show on Minnesota Public Radio tomorrow at 11:30 or so, talking about constitutional aspects of the filibuster controversy. You'll be able to listen to it here.

The new "Star Wars" movie.

I'd love to blog about it, but I'd have to go see it, and, for that, I would need to be paid. I think $500 would be a fair price.

UPDATE: Welcome Instapundit readers. I've added a link to an earlier post asking to be paid to do something I'd like to blog about, a running topic in the comments over here. And here's how the eggs topic got started.

Grounded, once again, in Madison, taking a brief account of a long trip.

I need to readjust to being home, to my familiar ritual of sitting at the dining table paging through the NYT and sporadically blogging. Today, there are the four extra NYTs that accumulated while I was off on my quick trip to Ithaca and back.

I spent nearly 14 hours strapped in the driver's seat yesterday. We emerged from the little car only three times, each time for less than 15 minutes. Things I bought at the stops and then consumed in the car:

1. White cheddar popcorn.

2. A venti latte (Starbucks).

3. A Rice Krispies treat, Diet Pepsi, and peppermint gum.

On the last leg of the trip, driving up into Wisconsin, finally freed of all toll roads, keeping myself going on Pepsi and peppermint gum, I had to struggle with pouring rain, wisps of fog, and lots of truckers who saw fit to get right up to the taillights to express dissatisfaction with the little silver sports car that had eased off from the 65 mile an hour speed limit as it racked up the last 25 miles of that 837 mile day.

In the car, we listened to rock music on lots of different satellite radio channels. I concluded, for the thousandth time, that the 60s music is the best, as "Help Me, Rhonda" and "I Heard It Through the Grapevine" played, somewhere between Beloit and Janesville.

At one point, we listened to a spoken word CD, a lecture about philosophy and religion, and when the teacher used the phrase "the dark room of your mind," we turned it off and had a long conversation, answering my question: Do you see your own mind as dark? That is, when you picture your mind, do you see a black place inside your head? Much of the space between Cleveland and the holy city of Toledo was devoted to this inquiry, which transitioned from a discussion of the color and light of one's mind to the issue of where we saw our selves. Are we inside our heads, contiguous with our bodies, or occupying a place that extended beyond our bodies into the space immediately surrounding us?

Okay, back to the lecture. Enough of that. Let's listen to talk radio. No, no, let's go back to music. Let's play 20 questions.

Things I guessed, on just about the last question:

1. The Erie Railroad. (That last exam was Civil Procedure.)

2. Monica Lewinsky's dress. (Guessed just after guessing "Abraham Lincoln's hat" on question 19.)

Yes, I'm home.

Don't worry about me. Worry about Vonzell.

Leaving Ithaca.

It's time for me to hit the road again. I've got to load up the car with John's things. (I hope it all fits in my little coupe.) Then, we're driving all the way to Madison in one great leap. See you later!