http://www.thenation.com/doc/20060417/mosersnip
This is vintage Reed, the incorrigibly boastful, smooth-talking operator who long dazzled--and blinded--evangelical Christians, big-money Republicans and mainstream journalists. Now 44, he still looks like a million bucks, his elfin face perma-tanned to a brick red, his pencil-thin body subtly bulked out by a well-tailored suit. Only one thing is missing: applause. Maybe some CRs know the real history of that 1980 mock election from Nina Easton's book Gang of Five, in which Reed's first big political triumph is revealed to have been rigged--his first notable act of mass deception. Maybe they're just waiting for Reed to finally offer a satisfying explanation of his star turn in the Abramoff scandal. But his mea culpa smacks more of false piety than genuine gut-spilling.
The Georgia CRs finally give Reed a polite hand for his creative stab at self-redemption. A few awkward minutes later, Reed is climbing the steps toward the exit, wearing an iron-willed smile while making an elaborate show of "gripping and grinning," even though only a few hands reach out to him. It's one more sign of his mounting desperation to project the air of a winner--a desperation that led to embarrassment in January, when Reed's campaign offered $20 and a free hotel stay to supporters who would attend the Georgia Christian Coalition's annual convention and cheer for the man who invented the coalition.
snip
Last June Georgia's former GOP House minority leader, Bob Irvin, blasted Reed in an Atlanta Journal-Constitution op-ed. "His M.O. is to tell evangelical Christians that his cause of the moment, for which he has been hired, is their religious duty," Irvin fumed. "As an evangelical myself, I resent Christianity being used simply to help Reed's business."
Irvin's dart went straight to the heart of the matter. While grassroots organizing has been the key to lifting evangelicals to power in the GOP, the movement's political model has mostly mirrored the traditional hierarchy of churches, with trusted leaders setting the tone and issuing marching orders to their foot soldiers. What if the generals--the Reeds and James Dobsons--are proven to care more about power and money than stamping out abortion or homosexuality? The damage to evangelical politics would clearly be immense. So would the damage to the Republican Party, which cannot carry a national election without the full enthusiasm and participation of the evangelical troops.
"Think what will happen on Election Day when 2 to 3 percent of the previously most passionate Republicans stay home," Joseph Farah, editor and publisher of the right-wing WorldNetDaily, warned in January. "Think of what it will mean when 20 to 30 percent of the grassroots activists Republicans have counted on to work for them don't show up."
Oh, this could be our salvation. They do themselves in and the rest curl up like rolly pollys.