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Recently, one of President Bush's few remaining supporters told me, "If the media had been as hard on FDR as they have been on President Bush, we would have lost World War II."

I thought that was an intriguing analogy. And it started me thinking... What if FDR had been like George W. Bush?

Fortunately, thanks to the miracle of high-tech alternate historical analysis, I can give you the definitive answer to that question...

As a White House spokesman recently put it, ""I don't know if Sen. Leahy is also an [information technology] expert, but I can assure you that we are working very hard to make sure that we find the e-mails that were potentially lost and that we are responsive to the requests, if there are responses that need providing, on the U.S. attorneys matters. We're being very honest and forthcoming."

Tech-and-politics blogger Carpetblogger (also known as my brother-in-law Mike) has a straightforward reply to this:

Guess what. I am an information technology expert. The White House is full of shit. With the equipment I have on my desk at home I could recover any missing e-mails from their computers.

I am shocked at this unfair implication about our noble and trustworthy White House. Yes, if they had access to an information technology expert, they could no doubt recover the e-mails. But how are they going to find such an expert? Oh, sure, if there were some sort of international electronic communications network that computer experts and ordinary citizens could both use--or if every household in America had a bound printed listing of local business, perhaps printed on high-visibility yellow paper--or if one of the nation's largest technology corridors happen to be located right outside the Beltway--then we might imagine the White House could find a competent IT guy in seconds. But why indulge in these crazy, sci-fi scenarios? Why can't you accept that our President and his advisors lie awake at night, consumed with angst at their inability to recover these irretrievably lost (but entirely innocent) e-mails?

Somebody recently told me that Barack Obama can't be elected president because in the past 100 years, only one sitting Senator has won a presidential campaign. Every year, I hear this argument advanced against one candidate or another, and it never makes any sense to me. This year it makes even less sense.

For one thing, 100 years is way too far to go back. In 1907, women couldn't vote, TV hadn't been invented yet, and nominees were actually chosen during the party convention. What does that have to do with modern-day America?

Personally, I'd say the earliest you could really go back is 1960, which featured the first televised presidential debate, marking the first time a candidate really had to look good on TV. Since 1960, we've had 12 presidential elections. I'm no statistician, but I think most scientists would tell you that 12 elections is way too small a sample to conclude anything useful.

But if you do think you can conclude anything from those 12 elections, then the fact is that Obama has a huge advantage. Why? Because, although only 1 out of every 10 Americans is left-handed, 5 out of 12 presidential elections have been won by a southpaw. Obviously, left-handers have a massive statistical advantage.

And guess which hand Obama writes with?

By the way, if you really think that being a senator means you can't get elected president, then the winner in 2008 won't be Barack Obama, Hillary Clinton, John Edwards, John McCain, Joe Biden, or even Sam Brownback. And since being mayor of New York has never launched anybody into the presidency, we have to rule out Rudy Giuliani.

That leaves... Let's see... For the Democrats, Governor Tom Vilsak, Governor Bill Richardson, General Wesley Clarke, and Rev. Al Sharpton. For the Republicans, it's one of the following governors: Mitt Romney, John Gilmore, Mike Huckabee, or Tommy Thompson. (Unless the Republicans nominate one of their two candidates who have never held elected office: radio talk show host John Cox, or Hewlett Packard engineer Michael Charles Smith.)

Some of these are plausible choices, I guess. It's conceivable that a former governor could end up heading one or both tickets. But at this early stage, the most likely possibility is that both tickets will be headed by a Senator.

Phil Merrill is still missing, and is now presumed dead.

Marc Fisher of the Washington Post has written a nice piece about his memories of the man.

If Phil Merrill is still alive--and I hope he is--I'm willing to bet he doesn't remember me. But I remember him.

Phil was the publisher of Washingtonian Magazine. That's where I got my first job out of college--first as an intern, and then as a Contributing Editor. Phil had a number of other business interests, and so wasn't always around the office, but when he was, you'd know. At some point in the day, you'd hear a volcanic eruption of anger coming from his office, and if you happened to be passing by his door at the moment, you'd see Phil red-faced, shouting at somebody in person or over the phone.

I guess this description makes Phil sound like a bully, but that was never my impression of him. In the few interactions I had with him in my role as a low-ranking editor, he was always friendly and polite. I always got the sense that, once he had finished expressing his anger, he was perfectly happy to listen to opposing viewpoints. And there was a comfort for a reporter in knowing that, if anybody ever tried to strong-arm you, you had a hell of a canon on your side to fire back.

In any case, my attitude towards Phil has always been gratitude. To a small degree, this is because he owned the magazine that gave me my first break as a writer--but I give most of the credit for that break to Jack Limpert, the magazine's editor-in-chief, as well as the other editors and reporters who encouraged my writing.

Anyway, the main reason I'm grateful to Phil is that he gave me one of the best pieces of career advice I've ever gotten. One of the great things about being an intern at Washingtonian was that, at one point or another, you got to have a session with each member of the magazine's staff, where they'd talk about what they do and how they got there.

When we met with Phil, somebody asked him how, exactly, you get to be a publisher. Phil thought about it for a moment, and then said, "You know, there's a story that at one point during the Cuban Missile Crisis, JFK wanted the blockade to be run a certain way. A Navy commander told the President that running it like that wasn't the Navy Way. Kennedy turned to him and said, '20 years ago, I was swabbing the decks on a PT boat. Today, I'm commander-in-chief. I didn't get where I am by doing things the f'ing Navy Way.' ...So, how do you become a publisher? You don't do it by working your way up through the ranks and hoping somebody's going to promote you. You don't do things the Navy way. If it's what you want to do, you just do it."

In the decade or so since Phil told me that story, as I've hopscotched my way through a career as a writer, I've often thought about that bit of advice. It's served me well.

(A side note: I'm quoting from memory, so I'm sure I don't have Phil's exact words, but there is one word I distinctly remember: "f'ing." Actually, it sounded more like "mmping;" as Phil was coming to that part of the story, I could see him notice that two of the interns were female, and he replaced the curse with a sort of a hum and a raise of his eyebrow that left no doubt as to the word he was too polite to say.)

Right now, I'm thinking about Phil's advice for a different reason. His sailboat was found drifting in the Chesapeake Bay over the weekend, and he has been missing since then. According to the article, "Investigators believe he wasn't wearing a life vest... because his wife told them he generally didn't use one."

Although it can't quite compete with America's Best Burger in actual culinary excess, Buffalo, New York's Charcoal Broiled Helicopter Bologna Sandwich certainly has it beat in the naming department.

I find the article a bit confusing, though. Is the bologna fried or merely broiled? Can any gourmands from the great city of Buffalo enlighten us?

(Thanks to expat Buffalonian Mitch Gerber for the tip.)

I am a freelance contributor to the Onion, meaning that I occasionally submit headlines to them. If they like 'em, they hang on to 'em, and some of them become Onion articles.

However, every time I submit, there are always a few I especially like that don't make the cut. In order that they may have some sort of life, I'm occasionally going to post my favorite rejected Onion headlines.

The creme of this week's rejected crop:

• Konami Unveils Video Game Controller Shaped Like Video Game Console
• Sims LARPer Just Living Normal Life
• Olympics Followup: Officials Admit First-Ever Winter Marathon Was Bad Idea; Search For Survivors Continues

Those of you who are (like me) fans of both Roger Ebert and videogames no doubt followed the debate ( part I; part II) that Ebert set off when he declared that videogames are not art.

My own take on it was--and is--that the video game is an artform, but it is one in its infancy. Yes, there is not yet a game as sublime as Bach's English Suites, but, then, it's only been 34 years since Pong. 35 years after the invention of music, I'm guessing we were still banging rocks against our cave walls. Videogames are evolving a lot faster, and I suspect the Bach of this art form will come along a lot more quickly than he did to music.

I'm revisiting this debate right now partly because of my recent PS2 purchase, of course, but mainly because Roger Ebert's colleague at the Chicago Sun-Times Jim Emmerson recently featured a quote from Japanese videogame designer Hideo Kojima, creator of the "Metal Gear Solid" series, which some of Ebert's readers cited as proof that videogames can indeed be art. Perhaps surprisingly, Kojima says he agrees with Ebert:

"I don't think they're art either, videogames," he said, referring to Roger Ebert's recent commentary on the same subject. "The thing is, art is something that radiates the artist, the person who creates that piece of art. If 100 people walk by and a single person is captivated by whatever that piece radiates, it's art. But videogames aren't trying to capture one person. A videogame should make sure that all 100 people that play that game should enjoy the service provided by that videogame. It's something of a service. It's not art. But I guess the way of providing service with that videogame is an artistic style, a form of art."

The funny thing is, even though Kojima seems to think he's agreeing with Ebert, he really isn't; under Kojima's definition, movies don't qualify as art, either. And Emerson doesn't quote one particularly significant paragraph from the interview (although he does provide a link to it):

While Kojima said that games as a whole aren't art, he did say that games do incorporate art. "Art is the stuff you find in the museum, whether it be a painting or a statue. What I'm doing, what videogame creators are doing, is running the museum--how do we light up things, where do we place things, how do we sell tickets? It's basically running the museum for those who come to the museum to look at the art. For better or worse, what I do, Hideo Kojima, myself, is run the museum and also create the art that's displayed in the museum."

My US address seems to have gotten on some sort of odd mailing list. I received the following letter in the mail:

Dear Jacob, This is a personal letter just to you. Notice: this is not a mass mailing; this letter came to you by first-class mail, not by third-class bulk mail. This is not a solicitation for money. In fact, you will get something of immense value from us absolutely free with no strings attached... Jacob, please keep what I tell you a secret, because this information is confidential. These words are meant for you only

This is Jacob again. I hope you're paying attention. The letter was sent by first class mail. That means that everything it says is true. And if that's not convincing enough, the letter actually addresses me by name at multiple points. If this weren't a personal letter, how could they possibly do that?

There has existed for many years an exclusive association, a secret society, of the world's most famous and powerful people. These include renowned actors and musicians, leading scientists and intellectuals, self-made entrepreneurs and artists, millionaires, professional gamblers, Casanovas, statesmen. Many of these people you would instantly recognize. Before I go on, let me state that everything you read here is absolutely and verifiably true.

This association has uncovered some shockingly powerful secrets. And they share these secrets only amongst themselves. In fact, these secrets are the reason these well-known individuals have achieved great prosperity.

Jacob, I have some incredibly exciting news to share with you. Members of this association ahve analyzed your profile (you'd be unbelievably flatterred if you knew who tehse individuals were). Please forgive them, but they've discovered something special about you.

It seems you, Jacob, possess several rare traits they are searching for. Because of these traits, which we'll talk about later, the have chosen you to become part of their exclusive club and to share their secrets, too, absolutely free! By the way, as you read this, you may be saynig to yourself that this is all a bunch of hooey. But I swear on a stack of Bible [sic] this is all true!

At this point, I was convinced. Anybody could put together a stack of Bibles. But somebody who could make a stack consisting of a single Bible must have uncanny powers indeed! And if that's not convincing enough, it includes a testimonial from "a TV celebrity and copywriter" who won't reveal his name, so we can't know which of the millions of famous, erm, copywriters he is. But he has lost weight, become irresistible to beautiful women, and made millions of dollars using the secrets of the "Nouveau Tech Society," which could be mine absolutely free.

So, obviously, this letter is entirely true and accurate. But why does everybody else on the web seem to think Nouveau Tech is a total scam? Stop being so cynical, people. When has a world famous copywriter ever lied to you?

I'm reading The Wisdom of Crowds, and I came across the following passage:

After a detailed study of American foreign-policy fiascos, including the Bay of Pigs invasion and the failure to anticipate Pearl Harbor, [psychologist Irving] Janis argued that when the decision makers are too much alike -- in worldview and mind-set-- they easily fall prey to groupthink. Homogeneous groups become cohesive more easily than diverse groups, and as they become more cohesive they also become more dependent on the group, more insulated from outside opinions, and therefore more convinced that the group's judgment on important issues must be right. These kinds of groups, Janis suggested, share an illusion of invulnerability, a willingness to rationalize away possible counterargument to the group's position, and a conviction that dissent is not useful.

In the case of the Bay of Pigs invasion, for instance, the Kennedy administration planned and carried out its strategy without ever really talking to anyone who was skeptical of the prospects of success. The people who planned the operation were the same ones who were asked to judge whether it would be successful or not. The few people who voiced caution were quickly silenced. And, most remarkably, neither the intelligence branch of the CIA nor the Cuban desk of the State Department was consulted about the plan. The result was a bizarre neglect of some of the most elemental facts about Cuba in 1961, including the popularity of Fidel Castro, the strength of the Cuban army, and even the size of the island itself. (The invasion was predicated on the idea that 1,200 men could take over all of Cuba)

It's a good thing we've learned from our mistakes, and no presidential administration would ever silence internal dissent while making a vital foreign policy decision, leading to a major military debacle.