These were supposed to be salad days — festive, merry, high-spirited — for the anti-Bush left. A week ago, this was the left’s rosy scenario: Rove would have to resign. Joe Wilson would be a national hero. The Miers nomination would bleed the White House from both left and right. The president would panic and fire his top staff and reshuffle the cabinet. Instead, the left is faced with a new Supreme Court nominee they’ll be hard press to railroad. The White House staff is still intact. Joe Wilson’s still lying
(because moving his lips). Rove’s out of sight. And polls show a public largely unconcerned
with Washington palace-guard politics.
The left’s hoped-for salad days would seem to be closer to what Shakespeare described in Antony and Cleopatra:
"My salad days,
When I was green in judgment, cold in blood."
No wonder Harry Reid’s feeling a bit poorly:"I’ve been in public service a long time," Mr. Reid said. "I’ve never been so disappointed, almost dejected."
Perfect word, dejected. Like a dog beaten too hard for too long. But the mongrel's rabid, so much damage can still be done as the disease runs its full course. (It goes without saying that, like Dame Edna, I mean this in a caring and nuturing way…)