Capital Letters: Judgment Days

In which our man in Washington discovers the newest conservative outrage, prepares for Y2K, and gets a secret identity

Michael W. Lynch from the April 1999 issue

(Page 2 of 3)

As Kasich was fielding questions, Bauer's troops started to file into the room, greeting their man's rise to the podium with a placard-waving standing ovation. "I hope you don't all work for me," Bauer said. (They do, at least the most enthusiastic ones.) With his elongated snout and set-back eye sockets, Bauer resembles a mouse. He rolled into his well-rehearsed speech. He compared Roe v. Wade to the Dred Scott decision and, like the other candidates, called for a defense buildup. (Bereft of domestic policy, Republicans are pinning presidential hopes on a popular movement for a larger, more expensive military.) Bauer also paid tribute to Henry Hyde, and the crowd leapt to its feet, filling the room with whoops and howls.

Later on, Bill Bennett went up to lament the "death of outrage." He was introduced by Preston Noell, of Tradition, Family, Property Inc., who mislabeled Bennett's best-seller "The Death of Courage" and vented some outrage of his own. Noell was upset that the Capitol Steps, a local singing group known for its mild political satire, would be providing evening entertainment. At first I thought he was kidding. The Capitol Steps are not exactly Howard Stern. But Noell was dead serious: The Steps have poked a bit of fun at the pope and committed other acts of political incorrectness. Noell had complained formally to the CPAC authorities but was told the show would be late at night, the crowd was all adults, and not everyone was that conservative anyway. This response really upset him.

"Am I being judgmental?" the enraged Noell asked, as if the person he was fortunate enough to introduce had given him permission to test his manhood in front of an audience. "You bet I am."

Bennett was soon at the microphone. "The bad guys have been made to look good; the good guys have been made to look bad," he said, since the public is more concerned with hypocrisy than the morality that makes hypocrisy possible. He urged the crowd to be "more judgmental." Watch out, Capitol Steps.

Date: Sun, Jan 31, 1999 4:33:17 PM
From: [e-mail]
Subj: Apocalypse Not

The head's pounding a bit this morning. I am not sure if it's on account of the five glasses of wine I enjoyed with dinner or the "coconut macaroon flavored survival ration" Wired's Declan McCullagh thrust in my face shortly after I arrived at his Adams Morgan flat last night. Declan and Cato's Solveig Singleton were throwing a "Halfway to the Apocalypse Party," to "celebrate 333 days left 'til Y2K." The invite promised Y2K survival foods--including "bulk rice" and "eel"--various Y2K theme songs, and a chance to win Jerry Falwell's Y2K video.

"You're not Y2K compliant until you have this," blurted someone as he handed Declan a roll of camouflage duct tape. Declan added it to his pile of survivalist goodies, which included a 50-gallon drum of "Hard White Wheat" and a carton of GPC full-flavored smokes (future currency, I was told). Declan was soon showing me other party gifts: boxes of .357 and .22 caliber bullets. "You can see there's a bit of a libertarian theme," he told me, as he fondled a bullet.

I wasn't there just for the bullets and booze. I was on the beat. Washington has been buzzing about Y2K: Declan's "Politech" e-mail list teems with Y2K concerns; Clinton has promised the geezers that their Social Security checks will keep coming; and even the religious nuts have climbed on board, with Falwell hyping the coming computer crash as God's way of humbling America.

"I think the United States is in good shape," Jim Lucier, formerly of Americans for Tax Reform and now with Prudential Securities, told me when I pressed him on the issue. Domestically, he is worried only about operations sheltered by government, such as rural electricity co-ops. "Overseas, all bets are off." I next questioned a bespectacled bearded man who works on the Hill. "I really do believe there will be a year 2000," he allowed.

My reporting wasn't getting anywhere, so I decided to start drinking. On the way to the refrigerator I ran into someone on the staff of Sen. Conrad Burns (R-Mont.). This fellow recalled testifying about Y2K before the Montana legislature but couldn't remember what he said. Another fellow from Burns' office said that China's approach to the problem was to hold its leaders accountable. Chinese airline executives, for example, are required to be in the air when the date turns. If anyone goes down, they go down.

Lucier pointed out that people who are airborne will be plenty safe, at least if the plane is built by Boeing, since private companies will see to it that the problem is fixed. "The weak link is local airports," said Lucier, since they are run by governments. This man is nothing if not consistent.

As the party thinned out, I took up with a cybercolumnist/taxi driver/limousine company owner, whose name isn't printed on his business card. His advice, as he pulled out a wad of bills, was to drive a taxi. He demonstrated why by separating his day's take of $161 into one pocket for the government and the other for him. (The lesson was that the government wasn't getting in his pocket.) His advice for Y2K: Buy 3M stock. Post-it notes, he felt, would be the best means of communication.

The VCR in the corner of Declan's drawing room was playing a Y2K scare tape, Millennium Bug and the Year 2000. I sat down to watch. The video jacket warned, "Nothing this big has ever been this predictable with this much precision," and "begin to prepare for a radical alteration of your lifestyle." Pat Boone was soon on the screen fretting over dependence on technology. It was time to leave.

Date: Wed, Feb 3, 1999 3:28:01 PM
From: [e-mail]
Subj: Washington Focus

I just returned from a two-hour focus group conducted by Peter D. Hart, who usually polls for The Wall Street Journal but was on a more corporate assignment tonight. "I'll do a Capital Letter on it," I thought, as an unsolicited caller asked if I would participate. Even if it was a bust, I figured, I could cash the $150 check.