So I figured I'd wait until today to get the details of Paul Ryan's Medicare plan, but this is pretty much all that his proposal says about it:

Starting in 2022, new Medicare beneficiaries will be enrolled in the same kind of health care program that members of Congress enjoy. Future Medicare recipients will be able to choose from a list of guaranteed coverage options, and they will be given the ability to choose a plan that works best for them....The Medicare premium-support payment would be adjusted so that wealthier beneficiaries would receive a lower subsidy, the sick would receive a higher payment if their conditions worsened, and lower-income seniors would receive additional assistance to cover out-of-pocket costs.

....Health plans that choose to participate in the Medicare exchange must agree to offer insurance to all Medicare beneficiaries, to avoid cherry-picking and ensure that Medicare’s sickest and highest-cost beneficiaries receive coverage....While there would be no disruptions in the current Medicare fee-for-service program for those currently enrolled or becoming eligible in the next ten years, all seniors would have the choice to opt into the new Medicare program once it begins in 2022.

Is that it? Am I missing something? How is anybody supposed to analyze how this would actually work with no more detail than this?

For now, I'm going to assume that I'm missing something. There must be a more detailed document around somewhere that I haven't found yet. There has to be, right?

David Brooks on Paul Ryan's long-term budget proposal:

Today, Paul Ryan, the Republican chairman of the House Budget Committee, is scheduled to release the most comprehensive and most courageous budget reform proposal any of us have seen in our lifetimes....His proposal will set the standard of seriousness for anybody who wants to play in this discussion....This budget tackles just about every politically risky issue with brio and guts....Paul Ryan has grasped reality with both hands. He’s forcing everybody else to do the same.

Courageous. Serious. Gutsy. I imagine that within a few days this will be the consensus view of the entire Beltway punditocracy. A plan dedicated almost entirely to slashing social spending in a country that's already the stingiest spender in the developed world, while simultaneously cutting taxes on the rich in a country with the lowest tax rates in the developed world — well, what could be more serious than that?

I think I'm going to be sick.

Caving in to the Mob

Jane Mayer on Attorney General Eric Holder's decision to try Khalid Sheikh Mohammed and other 9/11 defendants in military tribunals instead of civilian courts:

Today’s news that K.S.M. is slated now for a military trial in the naval base at Guantánamo Bay, rather than facing a criminal trial in the civilian justice system that Holder believed was more fitting, may indeed be the defining moment for the Obama Justice Department, defining it, unfortunately, as incapable of standing up to to the political passions still stirred by the threat of terrorism.

....“History will show that the decisions we’ve made are the right ones,” [Holder said last year.] After telling me that he regarded the trial as a defining event, he added, “Between now and then I suspect we’re in for some interesting times.” At his press conference today, he said, “I have to deal with the situation as I find it.”

It's a cowardly decision, and not just from Holder and Obama. There was cowardice and demagoguery aplenty in this entire sorry episode.

Considering the clown show he's part of, I'd say that Mitt Romney is probably the least bad Republican candidate for president running right now. But that's a pretty low bar, and Romney's almost pathological fear of being on the wrong side of an issue — any issue — was on full display over the weekend in a speech that slammed Obama's foreign policy:

Yet Romney was silent on Libya, where the U.S. And its NATO allies are enforcing a no-fly zone as rebels try to oust Libyan leader Muammar Gaddafi from power. Asked after his speech what his position is on Libya, Romney refused to take questions from reporters. Instead he and his wife Ann walked away and escaped up an escalator at the Venetian hotel-casino where the event was held.

“I’ve got a lot of positions on a lot of topics, but walking down the hall probably isn’t the best place to describe all those,” Romney said as he walked away with half a dozen journalists trailing him.

Silent on Libya! It's not as if this is the most critical foreign policy issue of the moment or anything. This comes via Daniel Larison, who comments:

Romney seems unable to stake out a foreign policy position until after the Republican consensus has formed, and he then adapts himself to whatever that consensus happens to be....[It's] just another reminder that Romney doesn’t hold foreign policy positions so much as he mimics those who do. There was fairly broad agreement in the GOP that the arms reduction treaty was flawed. It didn’t matter whether the criticisms were valid or not. Romney saw an opportunity to become a vociferous critic of the treaty to ingratiate himself with most of the party. Libya is a contentious issue, and the party is evidently split over which position to take, so Romney predictably cannot take one. For someone who is so fond of mocking Obama’s leadership or lack thereof, it is revealing that when Romney has to stake out a position one way or the other on a controversial question he is unable to show any leadership at all.

Hey, I think Libya is a tough issue. But I'm still willing to articulate a position (namely that intervention was a mistake), and I'm not even running for president. It's pretty hard to believe that even two weeks after it started, a guy who wants to sit in the Oval Office still can't think of anything intelligent to say about it. Obama might have made the wrong decision about Libya, but at least he made a decision.

I imagine that we're going to spend a fair amount of time this week talking about Paul Ryan's plan to cut corporate taxes and slash Medicare, but I think I'll wait until tomorrow to jump in. I'd rather react to the plan itself than to the Sunday chat show version of what the plan might be.

But I'll just say this in advance: I'm pretty sure that Ryan is going to loudly and relentlessly insist that his Medicare proposal isn't a voucher plan. I'm not sure why, but I assume that "voucher" must have polled poorly in some recent Frank Luntz poll or something. But if it walks like voucher, talks like a voucher, and quacks like a voucher, then it's a voucher.

And it does, and it is. So don't let Ryan pull the wool over your eyes on this. You can like or dislike the plan all you want, but it's based on giving you money and then sending you into the private market to buy your own health insurance. That's a voucher, no matter how many times Ryan says it isn't. What's more, I'm pretty sure it isn't even a very good voucher plan. But I guess we'll know for sure tomorrow.

I can't really think of anything to actually say about this, but I'm sort of gobsmacked by Siddhartha Mahanta's piece today informing us that Mike Huckabee physically erased and crushed all the hard drives in his office when his term as governor of Arkansas ended:

In February, Mother Jones wrote to the office of Arkansas Gov. Mike Beebe seeking access to a variety of records concerning his predecessor's tenure, including Huckabee's travel records, calendars, call logs, and emails. Beebe's chief legal counsel, Tim Gauger, replied in a letter that "former Governor Huckabee did not leave behind any hard-copies of the types of documents you seek. Moreover, at that time, all of the computers used by former Governor Huckabee and his staff had already been removed from the office and, as we understand it, the hard-drives in those computers had already been 'cleaned' and physically destroyed."

....What do the Huckabee files hold? The records could provide details on any number of unsettled controversies involving a governor that faced at least 15 ethics complaints concerning, among other things: his failure to report gifts and outside income, his alleged use of state funds and resources for political and personal purposes, and the pardon of a convicted murderer and rapist who went on to kill again once released.

A former high-ranking Arkansas Republican who was once close to Huckabee and who requested anonymity told Mother Jones that the destruction of the hard drives puzzled him. "I don’t know what that was about, if they had things to hide or not," he says. But, he adds, the episode fits with Huckabee's general reticence when it comes to public disclosure. "Huckabee just absolutely doesn’t trust anybody. In my experience, if you don't trust people, it's because you're not trustworthy. We see the world through our own eyes."

Apparently this came up briefly during Huckabee's 2008 presidential run, but died away quickly. And I assume that Arkansas doesn't have a law requiring gubernatorial records to remain public. But still: wow. Just wow.

Dan Eggen and Perry Bacon Jr. report on the start of Obama's fundraising campaign for 2012:

Facing an energized Republican Party and deep-pocketed conservative groups, President Obama is kicking off his 2012 reelection campaign with a concerted push for help from wealthy donors and liberal groups unbound by spending limits.

....Obama frequently points with pride to the role that smaller donors played in his 2008 election, when his campaign also openly discouraged spending by outside organizations. But now Obama finds himself seeking out the kind of big-money donations he has often criticized while encouraging independent groups to raise and spend unlimited money on his behalf.

Obama’s campaign manager-in-waiting, Jim Messina, has asked the party’s biggest supporters to raise $350,000 each this year, to be shared by Obama’s campaign and the Democratic National Committee, far higher than goals set during the 2008 cycle.

I suppose that soon we'll be able to do away with even the charade that anyone with a net worth of less than a million bucks matters in the slightest. Given Obama's obvious deference to the rich over the past two years, this was probably sadly inevitable.

I tend not to respond very often to criticism of my blog posts because I usually figure justice has been done when I've had my say and everyone else has had theirs. Responding further usually just turns into a pissing match that accomplishes nothing.

But I guess I need to respond to some of the reactions to my post yesterday about Libya and Obama's judgment. I could pretty much ignore Brian Doherty and Doug Mataconis, who simply find it risible that I think well of Obama in the first place, but today Glenn Greenwald decided to jump in. After an apparent attempt to win a gold medal in the insult Olympics by comparing me to Britney Spears, he concedes that trust does play a role when you're deciding who to vote for:

But that's in a different universe than deciding that — once they're in power — you're going to relinquish your own critical faculties and judgment to them as a superior being, which is exactly what Drum (and Spears) announced they were doing...."[T]hinking" that way is an absolute abdication of the duties of citizenship, which compel holding leaders accountable and making informed judgment about their actions (it's a particularly bizarre mindset for someone who seeks out a platform and comments on politics for a living). It's also dangerous, as it creates a climate of unchecked leaders who bask in uncritical adoration. I honestly don't understand why someone who thinks like Drum — whose commentary I've usually found worthwhile — would even bother writing about politics; why not just turn over his blog to the White House to disseminate Obama's inherently superior commentary? And what basis does Drum have for demanding that Obama inform him or the nation of the rationale for his decisions, such as going to war in Libya; since Drum is going to trust Obama's decisions as intrinsically more worthwhile, wouldn't such presidential discussions be a superfluous act?

This strikes me as an appallingly hostile reading of what I wrote, especially for anyone who's followed my writing and knows perfectly well that I haven't reliquished my critical faculties to anyone. Still, I wrote yesterday's post hastily and maybe my intent wasn't as clear as it could have been. So let's take a second crack at it.

I think pretty highly of Barack Obama's judgment. But what does it mean to say that? Just this: that I think highly of his judgment even when I disagree with him. How could it be otherwise, after all? If, when you say that you trust somebody's judgment, what you really mean is that you trust their judgment only to the extent that they agree with you, that's hardly any trust at all. Just the opposite, in fact.

To make this more concrete, I also think highly of Glenn Greenwald's judgment on issues of civil liberties and the national security state. This means that when he takes a different position than mine, it makes me stop and think. After all, we're on roughly the same wavelength on these subjects, and they're subjects that he's often thought about longer and more deeply than me. This doesn't mean that I've outsourced my brain to Glenn, but it does mean that he influences my judgment, and that's especially true on issues that I'm unsure of.

Ditto for Obama. Unlike Glenn, perhaps, I'm unsure about the wisdom of our Libya intervention, and the fact that I'm unsure makes me more open to giving Obama's judgment a fair amount of weight in this matter. That's what it means to respect another person's judgment. On the other hand, as my post made clear, it doesn't mean that he's persuaded me. As I said twice, I think the Libya intervention was a mistake. I wouldn't have done it. But partly because a president I respect disagrees, I'm open to the possibility that I'm wrong. His position has made me stop and think.

The passage that I guess has caused me the most trouble is this one: "The reason I voted for Obama in 2008 is because I trust his judgment. And not in any merely abstract way, either: I mean that if he and I were in a room and disagreed about some issue on which I had any doubt at all, I'd literally trust his judgment over my own." That was phrased more strongly than it should have been, but I guess I took it for granted that "any doubt at all" means "enough doubt to make me unsure of myself." If I weren't unsure of myself, after all, I'd hardly be interested in Obama's views or anyone else's.

So: did I express myself poorly? Or were these responses unfairly hostile readings of what I meant? I guess you can decide. But considering that the whole point of my post was that my trust in Obama's judgment was being "sorely tested" and that it was only intact "for now, anyway" — well, it seems pretty clear to me that I'm hardly treating Obama with "uncritical adoration." Rather, I was talking out loud about the role that trust in someone else's judgment plays in my own.

In any case, for the record, this is the point I was trying to get across. You can make up your own mind whether I succeeded.

UPDATE: Glenn Greenwald responds here. (See update at the bottom.)

One of Tyler Cowen's readers asks which books are the Great Gatsby of each decade since the 20s? I take this to mean books that both sold well and have come to represent their era. Sounds like fun. Here are Tyler's picks in bold, with alternates from me:

1930s: The Grapes of Wrath, John Steinbeck. That would be my choice too, though I might add Gone With the Wind as the biggest escapist novel of a decade that really needed its escapism.

1940s: Farewell, My Lovely, by Raymond Chandler. This is a tough decade. How about The Naked and the Dead instead? — though it's true that it doesn't really represent the 40s as they were lived in America.

1950s: Invisible Man, by Ralph Ellison, with Kerouac’s On the Road as a runner-up. Both good choices. The Man in the Gray Flannel Suit too, though it doesn't hold up well. And how about On the Beach?

1960s: Catch-22, by Joseph Heller, with The Bell Jar and Herzog as runners-up. Hmmm. Tough decade. Valley of the Dolls? Portnoy's Complaint?

1970s: This is tough. There is Vonnegut’s Breakfast of Champions, Stephen King, and even Peter Benchley’s Jaws. I’ll opt for Benchley as a dark horse pick, note that these aren’t my favorites but rather they must be culturally central. Jonathan Livingston Seagull is another option, as this truly is an era of popular literature. I'd choose The Serial, though I don't think it was ever a bestseller.  Or maybe The World According to Garp or Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintencance.

1980s: Tom Wolfe, The Bonfire of the Vanities. Good choice. The Hunt for Red October belongs here too.

1990s: The Firm, by John Grisham, or Barbara Kingsolver, The Poisonwood Bible. Maybe Brokeback Mountain. Perhaps I'm being too hard on the 90s, but I'd pick The Bridges of Madison County. Also, Primary Colors, though that might be my political bent talking.

2000s: Malcolm Gladwell, The Tipping Point. Oh come on. Let's stick with fiction. Maybe the Harry Potter series? When I think of the aughts I think of terrorism and economic collapse, but I'm not sure there were any big novels that really captured either of those things.

UPDATE: One thing that occurred to me while I was writing this, and also occurred to a few commenters, is that sometimes books written in one decade are good representations of another decade. Among WWII novels, for example, I'd say that The Caine Mutiny is more iconic of the 40s than The Naked and the Dead. But Caine was written in the 50s.

But maybe that doesn't matter. Who cares when a novel was written? Maybe Caine Mutiny is iconic of the 40s and Lord of the Rings is iconic of the 60s, even if they were written in the wrong decades.

We're having an early summer here in Southern California. Yesterday it was 90 degrees outside, and you know what that means: piles of cats snoozing in the afternoon warmth. As I write this they're in almost exactly the same positions, enjoying their midday siestas. After all, what else is there to do between breakfast and dinner?