Sink-o De Lie-o

I have paid Politico as precious little attention as possible, because the few times I have come across it, I've basically felt that if it were in print, it would have to come in two-ply. And it's not worth the effort to search, but I'm fairly certain that in at least one instance, I have referred to it as useless.

Well, I stand corrected. Turns out it has a use after all.

So the President and CEO of The Politico, Frederick Ryan, is also the Board Chairman for the Reagan Library. And that makes sense, because Ryan is a long-time, hard-core Reaganite.

....

The Politico's biggest boosters are Matt Drudge and George W. Bush, and it is run by a Reagan loyalist. At the very least, those facts are worth considering. Given that Editor-in-Chief John Harris has repeatedly vowed to be more "transparent" in how they conduct themselves, shouldn't we have some understanding of the role played by Ryan, and what his connection is to "Allbritton Communications," whose "deep pockets" are (partially? fully?) financing The Politico?

There's so much more, and it's nauseating to read, but hell, it explains a lot. It explains how they had the cash to pull some of Pravda's mid-level hacks, like Allen and Harris. It explains why that toad Drudge beats his shriveled meat to a brand-new entity on the internets, when there are literally millions to choose from. It explains why their minions are humping Bob Schieffer's leg every other week on Face the Nation.

My mistake is in referring to them as "useless", when the fact is that they simply have no use to me; i.e., because I feel that their premises and perspective is inherently debauched, there's literally nothing to be gained by wasting my time muddling through their inside-baseball ass-grabbing. But it turns out that the site has great practical utility to the people who bankroll the operation, the palm-greasers and back-slappers who lubricate the machinery from behind the scenes, who do their worst to ensure that the entire process continues to devolve into sordid spectacle.

No doubt Allen, Harris, and the rest of them, should they choose to eventually respond to what they perceive as ankle-biting blogonauts, will simper and preen and harrumph something along the lines of "Fred Ryan and Joe Allbritton have never suggested anything involving content or editorial. Hell, I've never even met either one of them! Oh ho, I wish it were that easy, heh.". Something like that.

And it's probably true. But they fail to realize (or admit) that that's precisely why they were drafted for this virtual Wurlitzer op -- they don't need to be shoved in a certain direction. They go there on their own. That's why they're on board; that's why they can crank out a half-dozen or so articles about John Edwards' haircut in a matter of weeks -- scarcely bothering to pause on his positions, mind you, or what everyone else's style choices cost -- and wonder unironically about What It All Means.

The real point of superficial coverage is to demean and ineffectualize the subject in the eyes of the proles, for one. But if you also understand the elite corporate media as a bunch of bankrolled douchebags using rented scriveners to muddy the discourse with mindless bullshit and political starfucking, then it makes more sense. They're talking to each other, the silent partners, the quiet bankrollers. They're deciding -- using outlets such as Politico, or WaPo, or wherever you detect the stench of old money and inbred social mores -- on whom we will be permitted to choose from next year.

Will it be the manly-man firebrand from the Elephant Party, who has the guts to say what we're all really thinking, who will take us where we want to go on pure id and gut instinct? Or will it be the gutless incrementalist from the Donkey Party, who dares not say what he (or she -- my!they're progressive!) actually thinks, for fear of losing a precious sliver of consultant-vetted jai alai moms, or intelligent-design uncles, or whatever the chic demo is by then, long after we wish the damned thing would just be over with?

Only the bookies and galley slaves at oddsmaker sites like Politico know for sure. One thing we know -- the house always wins.