So doth the Astronomer looke upon the starres, and by that he seeth set downe what order nature hath taken therein. So doth the Geometritian & Arithmetitian, in their divers sorts of quantities. So doth the Musitians intimes tel you, which by nature agree, which not. The natural Philosopher thereon hath his name, and the morall Philosopher standeth uppon the naturall vertues, vices, or passions of man: and follow nature saith he therein, and thou shalt not erre. The Lawier saith, what men have determined. The Historian, what men have done. The Gramarian, speaketh onely of the rules of speech, and the Rhetoritian and Logitian, considering what in nature wil soonest proove, and perswade thereon, give artificiall rules, which still are compassed within the circle of a question, according to the proposed matter. The Phisitian wayeth the nature of mans bodie, & the nature of things helpfull, or hurtfull unto it. And the Metaphisicke though it be in the second & abstract Notions, and therefore be counted supernaturall, yet doth hee indeed build upon the depth of nature. Only the Poet disdeining to be tied to any such subjection, lifted up with the vigor of his own invention, doth grow in effect into another nature: in making things either better then nature bringeth foorth, or quite a new, formes such as never were in nature: as the Heroes, Demigods, Cyclops, Chymeras, Furies, and such like; so as he goeth hand in hand with nature, not enclosed within the narrow warrant of her gifts, but freely raunging within the Zodiack of his owne wit. Nature never set foorth the earth in so rich Tapistry as diverse Poets have done, neither with so pleasaunt rivers, fruitfull trees, sweete smelling flowers, nor whatsoever els may make the too much loved earth more lovely: her world is brasen, the Poets only deliver a golden.——Sir Philip Sidney, The Defence of Poesy 

So Sir Philip on the division of labors amongst the classes of learning.  It is true enough that sometimes the recognized kinds of valid discourse became hidebound, but the reader at least had some idea of the nature of the claim to truth that each of the kinds pretended to represent.

Although in some ways Sidney was strongly associated with the Protestant Reformation in its most intellectual aspects, his Defence of Poesy distanced him from certain Puritans who would claim that fiction was falsehood, and that it was impious for the poet to attempt to usurp the creative power of God.  Sidney saw the poet’s licence, rather, as a matter of man’s exercising the power of creativity that God had bestowed upon him–as in His image–in order to aid in reforming his own fallen nature and through him the fallen world.

So, Pete Abel at The Moderate Voice analyzes the NYT McCain piece’s reception:

Last week, Shaun Mullen attempted to remind us that the McCain-NYT flap was less about sex, more about lobbyists and hypocrisy. Separately, Patrick Appel (filling in for Andrew Sullivan) noted: “… the sex scandal, if real, would sink [McCain]. Arguing about lobbyists is somewhat academic; a sex scandal any voter can understand.”

Despite the efforts of writers like Shaun to keep the focus where it probably should be, I suspect Patrick will ultimately be proven correct.

“Lobbyists? …. Yawn. Sex? … Wait a minute. Somebody had sex? Turn up the volume on that there TV, sweetheart.”

Of course, the sophomoric minds and purient interests of “the general public” may not be entirely to blame. Arguing about who is the bigger hypocrite when it comes to condemning/working with lobbyists will never be an easy conundrum to evaluate in quantitative terms. Lobbyists swarm like flies in both the figurative and literal swamps on which Washington was built, and no dose of chemical repellant will banish them from the offices, hallways, and hearing rooms in which elected officials congregate.

Thus, sooner or later, try as they might, every politician will encounter, deal with, and (to varying degrees) embrace lobbyists,even the squeaky-clean Obama.

So, who’s the bigger lobbyist-hypocrite? Pundits and pedestrians will argue that point for months, and I imagine the argument will never be settled. Sex, on the other hand, is much easier to measure. You’ve either had it or your haven’t. Even Bill Clinton learned that lesson. 

Well, I agree with Pete Abel, for the most part, but what he doesn’t cover in this is the absurdity of the proposition, on the part of the NYT, that the gist of the story regarding John McCain’s careless relations with lobbyists is meant to be severable from the part about the sex rumors (which can be documented as rumors). If the salacious rumors are not a part of the essential argument, then why are they a part of the argument? What is this discursive chimera that they’re attempting to fob off as natural to journalism?

Similarly, I can agree with Frank Rich that Hillary’s campaign foolishness stems from arrogance, but I cannot countenance the version of the Iraq War that he’s engrafted onto the analysis of Clinton’s campaign, as though the truth value of the one somehow validates the tendentiousness of the other:

When people one day look back at the remarkable implosion of the Hillary Clinton campaign, they may notice that it both began and ended in the long dark shadow of Iraq.

It’s not just that her candidacy’s central premise — the priceless value of “experience” — was fatally poisoned from the start by her still ill-explained vote to authorize the fiasco. Senator Clinton then compounded that 2002 misjudgment by pursuing a 2008 campaign strategy that uncannily mimicked the disastrous Bush Iraq war plan. After promising a cakewalk to the nomination — “It will be me,” Mrs. Clinton told Katie Couric in November — she was routed by an insurgency.

The Clinton camp was certain that its moneyed arsenal of political shock-and-awe would take out Barack Hussein Obama in a flash. The race would “be over by Feb. 5,” Mrs. Clinton assured George Stephanopoulos just before New Year’s. But once the Obama forces outwitted her, leaving her mission unaccomplished on Super Tuesday, there was no contingency plan. She had neither the boots on the ground nor the money to recoup.

Sorry, Frank. That ugly hippogriff just ain’t gonna fly.