The secret ingredient

I am happy to see that my friend Peggy Noonan has graduated from being the star-struck cheerleader of Obama to joining the ranks of the disillusioned.  Back in the summer of 2008, when much of the country was swooning over The One We’ve Been Waiting for For (remember that?), Peggy was enthusiastically outlining the case for Barack Hussein Obama in the Wall Street Journal:

He has within him the possibility to change the direction and tone of American foreign policy, which need changing; his rise will serve as a practical rebuke to the past five years, which need rebuking; his victory would provide a fresh start in a nation in which a fresh start would come as a national relief. He climbed steep stairs, born off the continent with no father to guide, a dreamy, abandoning mother, mixed race, no connections. He rose with guts and gifts. He is steady, calm, and, in terms of the execution of his political ascent, still the primary and almost only area in which his executive abilities can be discerned, he shows good judgment in terms of whom to hire and consult, what steps to take and moves to make. We witnessed from him this year something unique in American politics: He took down a political machine without raising his voice.

Embarrassing, what? But 18 months after that “fresh start” things are looking pretty rancid, even to Peggy. “He was,” she complained in her WSJ column a few days ago “supposed to be competent.”

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