Dubya and the three stooges

While attending an institution of higher learning, you may have encountered a professor who directed your attention to Ivan Stang's theory of the three human archetypes. According to this analysis, each human being is one of the Three Stooges.

(Before proceeding, let me make clear that I always preferred Laurel and Hardy to the trio from Columbia studios. Nevertheless, I can respect the Stooges, and I feel that Stang's thesis has merit.)

Moe is the leader, the idea guy, the one who somehow cajoles the others into following his schemes. Eavesdrop on any group of sixth grade boys and you'll discover that, although any of them may suggest a course of action (e.g., "Let's go to the comic book store"), only one member of the group can always expect everyone else to act according to his plan. He is the Moe of that band.

Larry is amiable, dull, and more-or-less law-abiding (except when a Moe tells him to break the law). Larry is defined by his inability to conjure up an original thought. Stang claims that Larry is so caught up in his own Larry-ness he does not even realize that a heirarchy exists. I would refine this argument: Larry may well be dimly aware of a pecking order, though he would never dream of challenging it. Most people are Larrys, although only the Larriest of the Larrys will admit to being who and what they are.

Curly is the rebel, the artist, the bohemian, the clown, the outsider, the mystic: God's Holy Fool. Curly knows damn well that a heirarchy exists, and he knows that he's not in the top spot. Therefore, he constantly tries to undermine the natural order -- never with success. Rebellion requires numbers, and the masses of Larrys will never (well, almost never: See below) abandon Moe leadership to follow a Curly.

Stang believes that Curly is the always most lovable of the three, but I would dispute him on that point. History books describe more than a few unpleasant Curlys. Rasputin, for one. Lenny Bruce. Buddy Rich. Michaelangelo. Yes, Michaelangelo: A hobbit-sized smelly bohemian who paints gay porn all over the Pope's walls has achieved the very quintessence of Curly-ness.

I question Stang on another point: Mobility between the three classes. Stang seems to believe that such mobility is impossible. I would argue, however, that Adolf Hitler was a man destined for Curlyness.

I mean, just look at the guy: An artist. Ocassionally homeless. A (likely) virgin until his 30s. Cultivated a bizarre appearance. Farted all the damn time. Took every drug he could get his hands on. Prefered bizarre, esoteric reading material to "respectable" literature.

Yes, Adolf was a born Curly. Not a funny Curly, not a lovable Curly, but a Curly nonetheless.

Yet this natural-born-Curly somehow achieved Ultimate Moe Power. How did this insult to the natural order come to pass? This conundrum underlies our continuing fascination with the Nazi era.

Please understand that I do not like admitting that Adolf was a Curly who migrated to Moe status. I too am a Curly, and I do not enjoy confessing that Hitler also belonged to this breed.

There was a time when I longed for Moe-hood, for I considered myself brighter than many of the Moes running our world. (As you may have noticed, there are some rather dim Moes out there.) But, having reached a certain age, I have come to understand that, although a few Larrys have been kind enough to smile at my antics, they will not go to the comic book store when I say "Let's all go to the comic book store." Neither will they invade Poland on my say-so.

Now, I bring all this up because the current world situation forces us to confront another insult to the cosmic order. I refer, of course, to the Bush dynasty.

Does anyone (including the Republicans) doubt that the Bush folk are a clan of Larrys?

Larrys with money, yes. But still Larrys. They have always been and will always be bereft of charisma and leadership ability. No Bush has ever had an orginal thought.

Poppy Bush may be the most Moe-like male ever to slink out of the Bush gene pool. Yet even Nixon (a Moe with pronounced Larry and Curly tendencies) considered GHWB to be something of an amiable non-entity.

Prescott Bush may have done business with Nazis, but only because his mentors told him what to do and how to do it. Otherwise, he was the Larry who played golf with Ike.

Dubya is a fundamentalist Christian Larry of the type exemplified by Ned Flanders. Yes, he's an evil, lying, war-mongering creep. But let's face it -- he carries out the plans concocted by other people. Will W ever come up with an original thought? Hell, he's more likely to grow penises out of his nipples.

(Cheney is a Moe. But you already knew that.)

The Bush twins are the very definition of young female Larryness. Laura is so bloody Larry-like she would probably even cop to her own Larryhood. Neil is a very (very) crooked Larry, but he's still a Larry -- I mean, I can't imagine him coming up with a new and unusual way to bilk people. I don't know enough about Jeb to make a final judgment, but to my nostrils, he still conveys a Larry stench. Barbara, I must admit, has a certain Moe musk, but she's the only creature in the whole bloody family thus perfumed.

So my question to the world is this: How did this bland clan of dull, unimaginative Larrys gain power beyond the dreams of most Moes?

I always assumed that if anyone were to overthrow our democracy, the new overlord would at least be a Moe, goddammit. Or perhaps (I thought) the tyranny would come from some demonic Curly who, having made a pact with Satan, achieved upward Moe-bility. Just like Adolf.

Instead, the Babbits of Bush-dom have gained the throne. Larry is the new divine Julius.

How can such a thing be?