Actions Speak Louder

    When he was running for president, good 'ol Rick Perry managed to dodge this issue, but it still interests me: The governor is double-dipping Texas taxpayers by collecting his pension and his salary, too.
    This is permitted by an obscure provision of Texas law that lets certain officials draw their state pensions without actually retiring. The law is made doubly obscure by a policy that personnel matters are secret. 'Ol Rick fessed up, finally, when he declared for president and had to report to federal elections officials.
    He says that lining his pockets is just a "common sense" use of a statute that has been on the books for years.  What do you do if the money is there for the taking?  You grab it, and say nothing to the people you're fleecing unless you're forced to.
    He calls this common sense. I call it greed and deceit. This from a man who dressed his candidacy in a pretense of higher values.
    Perry no longer matters, but his example does. He has not been alone in approaching voters with the timeworn blandishment of Lotharios:  Trust me. I'm different from the others.
    But he wasn't different. He was just like anyone whose higher values are power and money. He reminds us that a smooth talker won't necessarily respect us in the morning.  He reminds us that smooth talkers don't want listeners to ask too many questions.
    Which brings us to the smooth talk still being peddled in the Republican primaries. This may seem an odd way to characterize campaigns that daily set new standards for sheer vulgarity. But listen.  The boys on the stump are peddling the oldest snake oil of all:  Free lunch.  Easy decisions.  Simple answers.
     The issues facing the country are not vexing and complex, don't you see.  The decisions to be made are not daunting.  Oh, no.
      The issue facing the country is quite simple: The incumbent president is (choose your epithet) a boob, a scoundrel, a snob, a weakling, a power hungry fiend, a secret Muslim, a secret secularist, a socialist, a Nazi, an uxorious puppet, a naif, a foreigner.
       And in the Republican primary the central issue is really quite simple, don't you see: The other guy is a two-faced sharpie and a fool, to boot. An issue this simple requires only a simple decision by the voters: Trust me. I'm different from the others.
      The Republican primaries have treated us to one dubious marvel after another. We have the ultra right vamping on a theme popular with the '60s left: Power to the people. (And never mind which people.)  We have putative champions of limited government saying that private and personal matters should be opened to government influence. (Rick Santorum says the church should not be walled off from the state.  By this he means, of course, that his church should not be walled off from the state.)  Republican rhetoric these days radiates a  genuine aversion to differences of opinion,  and a palpable fear that people with other views may prevail through the cunning tactic of voting in greater numbers.
     There is nothing wrong with conservatism.  Properly framed, it is an honorable tradition with worthwhile ideas on governance.
      And there is reason aplenty to be wary of size and expense and intrusiveness in government.
       But the offering from Republican candidates this year is not conservatism, and it is not -- heaven knows -- a serious discussion of ends and means in governing a complex democracy.  It is a dog's breakfast of pandering and posing.  The candidates' "values" are costume jewelry chosen occasion by occasion.
       Beneath their trumpeted differences, the Republican candidates have one very important thing in common.  All are trying to persuade voters they can safely select a president without doing the work of making informed choices.