Thursday October 08, 2015
April 23rd, 2015
By e-mail, video and on Twitter, Hillary Clinton made it official Sunday afternoon: She is a candidate for president.
Barring something completely unforeseen, that means the country is in for a minimum of 20 months of the Hillary and Bill Clinton show. And that could be followed by a four-to-eight-year booking in the White House.
I not only watched television pundits discuss the shooting of Walter Scott in North Charleston, South Carolina, last week, I participated in some of those discussions.
So Hillary Clinton is officially running, to nobody's surprise. And you know what's coming: endless attempts to psychoanalyze the candidate, endless attempts to read significance into what she says or doesn't say about President Barack Obama, endless thumb-sucking about her "positioning" on this or that issue.
Jim Brulte, California's Republican chairman, has sobering but useful words for his party's leaders and 2016 candidates: If they don't learn from what happened to the GOP here, they may doom themselves to repeating its decidedly unpleasant experience.
As the 2016 Republican presidential aspirants assess the best way to confront Hillary Clinton as the Democratic frontrunner, a Republican-turned-Democrat, Lincoln Chafee of Rhode Island, thinks he's found her weak spot, and may take her on for the Democratic presidential nomination.
Once again, what a difference a video makes.
As soon as I saw the cellphone video of the fatal shooting of Walter Scott by Officer Michael Slager of the North Charleston Police Department in South Carolina, I wondered how the apologists for police misconduct were going to spin this one.
The White House now offers a gender-neutral restroom, for use by men, women and anyone whose gender is less than certain. If this news tempts you to giggle -- please refrain.
Last fall, President Barack Obama slapped back at critics by citing what he called a foreign-policy success: Yemen.
Oops. Yemen is now collapsing into civil war, with gains, so far, for both al-Qaida and Iran.
When my brother Michael was a Senate page, he delivered mail to John F. Kennedy and Richard Nixon, who had offices across the hall from each other.
He recalled that Kennedy never looked up or acknowledged his presence, but Nixon would greet him with a huge smile. "Hi, Mike," he'd say. "How are you doing? How's the family?"
I had heard about all of the dying, about all of the grief, and still I didn't immediately understand what I was seeing when, at a railroad crossing here, I spotted a man in a blaring orange vest, the kind that road crews and public-safety workers wear. He wasn't carrying any equipment. He wasn't engaged in any obvious activity. He shuffled his feet, staring into the distance.