The Great Decline

I've tried to avoid commenting much on the Democrats' primary fight; for those of us on the other side, the protracted squabbling has been a welcome gift. In a year when Republicans are facing a stiff headwind, we'll take any gifts we can get.

One of the more astonishing things for me has been the way those who were in the Clinton inner circle in the 1990s have abandonded her. Really makes you wonder about the way both Clintons treated those around them when they held power, and the degree to which subordinates' loyalty had been rooted in fear rather than respect. Interesting that once a viable alternative to Hillary's coronation emerged, even venerable Clintonites like Richardson and Reich began running for the door.

As I think about Hillary's collapse, I can't get that poem, Ozymandias, off my mind. Not sure it's ever been so fitting:

I met a traveler from an antique land,

Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read,

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;

And on the pedestal these words appear:

"My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:

Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away.

PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY
1792-1822