While we very much appreciate all the readers of this blog and insist that you keep tuning in, don’t forget that First Things is also hosting four new blogs. They’re firing on all cylinders.

At the Anchoress , Elizabeth Scalia discusses media bias—against Bush and toward Obama:

Someone sent this video to me with the comment, “illustrates how the press despised Bush. How they hated him!”

Well, duh . Of course they did. They spent 7 years doing their very best to make sure that everyone else hated him, too, and yes, they succeeded. Not saying Bush’s own errors didn’t help it along, but the non-stop (sometimes untrue, frequently unfair and almost always unwarranted and disproportionate) pounding given Bush, 24/7 by every media outlet -news, books, sitcoms, films- contributed hugely to the “Bush hate.” Let’s face it, if Dubya and his wife strolled the grounds of the White House while holding hands and it is likely they did, the press did not scream about it like teenage girls at the Jonas Brothers. When Mrs. Beasley came to the White House, there was no scrum of reporters crying out, “he’s got the leash!” of the president.

When Dubya swaggered, it was “arrogance.” When Obama “swaggas” it’s “cool.” Bunch of upper-class white pretenders calling it “swagga;” just makes you want to roll your eyes, doesn’t it? I can’t help but think Obama loathes them, and I wouldn’t blame him if he does. It’s hard to respect people who slobber all over you.

The White House Press Corps has revealed a profound truth about themselves: they’re a bunch of 14 year old girls. If they don’t like you, they will be absolute savages to you. But if they like you, you’re cool and they all want to be, they all want to invite you for a sleepover.

And at Spengler , David Goldman takes on David Brooks:

If the New York Times shuts down, at least I won’t have to respond to mind-numbing items like David Brooks’ April 30 peroration , “Genius: the modern view.” Aldous Huxley’s wife Laura infamously said that her husband looked like a stupid man’s idea of what a clever man must look like, and Brooks’ definition of genius is what a stupid man thinks a smart man must be like. Mozart was nothing special as a boy: he just practiced more than everyone else. Mediocrity looks up through the clouds and catches a glimpse of Mozart and says, “My kid could do that.” Not . . . . .

Meanwhile, Sally Thomas asks : “What happened to the god-fearing eggs at Aldi?”

I used to love to buy eggs at Aldi.

But no more. They’ve gone to a biodegradable “green” paper carton, which would be all right, except that the eggs now cost thirty cents more, and they’ve axed the Bible verse and the recipes, too.

Your environmental gospel: less for more.

Fortunately, I save pretty much every item of packaging which enters my house, for craft projects which never seem to happen. So now I’m taking all my empty egg cartons to church, where I give them to an organic-farming friend whose chickens are pumping out eighteen eggs an hour, apparently, and she gives the cartons back to me, and to other people, too, full of fresh eggs for FREE.

Finally, at Postmodern Conservative , James Poulos discusses Ross Douthat’s take on Arlen Specter:

Ross’s latest NYT column makes a point I think I alluded to earlier: just because losing Arlen Specter is bad doesn’t mean having him to begin with was good. And this is not just a charge you can level due to Specter’s stance on policy (on ’strictly political’ issues or cultural ones). It’s one that really hits home — on Ross’s account, at least — courtesy of Specter’s defective intellectualism. The defects under consideration go beyond the recent jibe — I forgot who said it — that Specter is an attorney and his only client is himself. The enlistment of the intellect in the business of personal aggrandizement is lamentable enough, I suppose, but it’s hard to imagine when high-octane careerism will finally be purged out of congressional politics. A while ago elsewhere I think I made the argument that the Senate has rather pathetically taken shape as a would-be farm league for Presidents — something historically it is horrible at being. The Hillary Clintons of the world reinforce a destructive assumption that the only real reason to become a Senator is to grab a suitable platform for mounting a national campaign. But the Arlen Specters of the world remind us that even today rank careerism sometimes tops out at the ‘most exclusive club in America.’

Lots to read, think about, and enjoy.

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