ANGEL DRESSED IN BLACK: Maureen Dowd Stumbles in the Dark

Mary of ANGEL DRESSED IN BLACK offers a clear analysis of Maureen Dowd and her Reasonable follies. She even has some sympathy for the increasing desperation of the New York Time's resident screetcher:

Dowd's September 28, 2005, column, "Dancing in the Dark," reads like a plea for help. She's dancing with the grace of a 300+ pound NFL defensive lineman. She's trying to be witty, but her acerbic tone doesn't help to expose some harsh truth about the Bush administration. Instead, her comments come off as silly, rooted in desparation.

It's pathetic.

It's also a mirror image of the state of the Democrats in fall of 2005--not much to offer other than hypocrisy and baseless personal attacks.

Dowd is so sad and bitter. I have to feel sorry for her, in the way that I'd feel sorry for a vulture that broke its wing as it swooped down while hunting a kitten.

Similarly, I have to feel some sympathy for the radical Left. It's not pretty watching them blindly stumble around while their hate consumes them.

Mary then offers up Ms. Dowd's latest--and now subscriber only--unraveling:

I can't wait to see what's next.

Dick Cheney carpooling downtown with Brownie? Rummy Rollerblading down the bike path to the Pentagon? Condi huddling by a Watergate fireplace in a gray cardigan?

Maybe now that our hydrocarbon president is the conservation president, he'll downgrade from Air Force One to a solar-powered Piper Cub as he continues to stalk the Gulf Coast towns and oil rigs like Banquo's ghost.

The once disciplined and swaggering Bush administration has descended into slapstick, more comical even than having Clarence Thomas et al. sit in judgment as Anna Nicole Smith attempts to get more of the moolah of her late oil tycoon husband.

We've got the clownish Brownie still on FEMA's payroll, giving advice on cleaning up the mess he made. ( Let's hope the White House is paying him only long enough to buy his good will, not to take any of his bad advice.)

We've got two oilmen in the White House whose administration was built on urging us to consume and buy as much oil and energy as possible. Now they're suddenly urging us to conserve. (Since Mr. Cheney considers conservation a "personal virtue," at least he'll get some virtue.)

The president called on Americans to drive less, and told his staff members to turn off their computers at night, turn down the air-conditioning, form carpools and take the bus.

At the same time, he set a fine example by wasting gazillions of gallons of fuel with all the planes and Secret Service vans and press motorcades and police escorts that follow him around every time he goes on one of his inane photo-ops from the Colorado bunker to what's left of the Mississippi Delta and the Bayou. He did his part by knocking off a few cars from his motorcade on his seventh trip to the gulf yesterday - but if residents had hoped he'd bring them some water, they went thirsty.

Mary is right: Maureen Dowd's rabid sputtering speaks for itself. She represents well the pathologically deteriorating reason of the Reasonable and Foolable left. Ms. Dowd is so caught up in attempting to sound ironic and clever that she throws herself in knots over the inevitable consequences of a President's proper stewardship. Is the President of the United States supposed to sail to the Gulf Coast? Or should he not be there at all? She's nearly apocleptic over each and every move the President makes.

Now, the President of the United States, like any leader in our government, does not stand above criticism. I've taken him to task in this blog for his uninspiring phone-in during and shortly after Katrina and his timing in launching the invasion of Iraq. However, what many liberals like Ms. Dowd today espouse is anything but legitimate criticism. They pour out only blind hatred and rage that the man dares not bow down before their irrelevant and bankrupt ideology. This irrational hatred reflects more on the haters than on the object of their derision. The Maureen Dowds, Cindy Sheehans and other Reasonable mouth-foamers offer society nothing more than wet carpets. Sooner or later, society will want to clean up the mess. Then, they'll render the ones making the mess utterly irrelevent.

Ms. Dowd may continue her screeds indefinately, or at least until the NY Times can no longer afford her as a luxury. With her now behind the subscriber firewall, perhaps her die-hards will continue to offer her homage. The more sensible among us, however, will tip our hat and say "here's your hat, what's your hurry?"