Dave Weigel at Slate reports on the Media Village Idiots’ SotU crush:
… When President Obama entered the chamber, Nugent stood up, and reporters finally saw him. He spent the entire speech, 13 typed pages, in various stages of physical agony. At the emotional apex of the night, when the president counted off victims who “deserve a vote,” Nugent sat with his arms crossed.
“My favorite part was when I couldn’t hear clearly,” said Nugent to reporters after the speech. “Then I didn’t get angry.”
A cynic might have looked at Nugent then, attracting swarms of reporters below statues of Bob LaFollette and Huey Long, and asked why the media went so astray. It’s a good question. But Obama’s speech—especially the rousing section on guns—was an appeal for skeptical members of Congress to abandon their positions and come around to his. If Nugent joined the Republican caucus, he wouldn’t even be its most conservative member. Someone more conservative could—nay, will—throw up hurdles against a gun bill, or an immigration bill, or a voting reform bill….
As Nugent talked to reporters, his sponsor, Rep. Steve Stockman, was standing more or less alone.[…] Nugent just kept moving from camera to camera, from the set-up satellite feeds in Statuary Hall to the hand-helds of independent reporters. Like the median House Republican, he had his constituency, and he knew it was bigger than the liberals’. “If you walk the halls with me,” he told a National Review writer, “every military guy, every cop, has an Uncle Ted story. See the smile on my face? These are my buddies here. I’m surrounded by working hard, playing hard Americans.”
Nugent was shepherded over to a standing MSNBC camera. Two police officers looked on, confused by the mobile media herd.
“Who’s that?” asked one cop.
“It’s Ted Nugent,” said the other cop. “He’s a rock star, he talks about guns.”
“Really? Never heard of him.”
ETA: Commentor Southern Beale shares the news that the stylish blond gent seated next to the Nuge was Thomas Lauderdale of Pink Martini.
What’s on the agenda for the eve of Valentines — or, as us long-term couples call it, Amateur Day?