Thursday, August 15, 2013

JESSE AND SANDI JACKSON: JUST HOW CLAIRVOYANT WAS H.L. MENCKEN?

8/15/13

Jesse Jackson, Jr., affectionately, or otherwise, known as “Triple J” in these parts, and his co-schemer and wife Sandi Jackson, were sentenced yesterday for their crimes involving misuse of campaign funds and failure to mention to the IRS their use of such funds for such vital campaign necessities as moose heads, furs, Eddie Van Halen guitars, Michael Jackson memorabilia, and a $43,000 watch.   Yours truly contends that anyone who spends $43 grand on a watch deserves to go to jail on general principle, but I digress.

As regular readers know, I have been deeply intrigued by this story for a long time.  (See, inter alia




and posts in a former blog to which they will direct you.)   So the sentencing of these two felonious finaglers merits some comment from yours truly.



First, the sentences seemed a little light:   a year for Sandi Jackson and two and a half years for Triple J, both far under the maxima under federal guidelines.   If the Chicago Sun-Times Natasha Korecki and Lynn Sweet, neither of whom could be considered hostile to the Jacksons, are to be believed, at least Triple J agrees that he got off easy.  According to Ms. Sweet and Ms. Korecki in today’s (8/15/13, page 4) Sun-Times

Jackson, Jr., 48, who had been blowing his nose and sobbing during his remarks to the judge, appeared to break into a half-grin as the news of the sentence settled in.

And it got better for the Jackson.  Rather than both going immediately to jail (and why has it taken this long?), they will go in sequence, with Jesse going first and Sandi going after him.  And they got to decide the order of their incarcerations.   Who else gets such treatment?

Still, yours truly is kind of surprised that Sandi Jackson got any jail time at all.   It’s not that I don’t think she deserved it.  But so much of the Chicago media and political establishments had bought into the “poor, poor put-upon Sandi Jackson” line of baloney, along with the “these kids need their parents” pile of horse dump that I feared, and suspected, that Judge Amy Berman Jackson (no relation) had drunken the kool-aid.  Fortunately, she didn’t.




Second, Triple J’s still vague emotional/mental malady was taken for the line of cattle detritus that it appeared to be.  Prosecutor Matt Graves, referring to Mr. Jackson’s purported illness, stated

“It’s quite clear there’s no ‘there’ there.”

Some might reply that, of course, Mr. Graves would say that; after all, he was the prosecutor in the case.  But Judge Jackson also gave the mental health angle no credence, pointing out that there was nothing sudden about Mr. and Mrs. Jackson’s, er, lapses of judgment, as would be the case if their thievery sprung from Mr. Jackson’s mental condition.   This was, the Judge pointed out, a continuing pattern of pilferage, and stated that there was

“…only once conclusion, and that is that you (Triple J) knew better.”

Yours truly is no mental health professional, but neither are the vast majority of people commenting on Triple J’s medical maladies.   Further, none of the mental health professionals the Jacksons were able to produce were all that convincing.   Maybe those of us who are, to put it mildly, suspicious of Mr. Jackson’s claims of the psychiatric equivalent of “the devil made me do it” are wrong.  Maybe Mr. Jackson really is sick.   If that really is the case, one suspects that whatever it is that Mr. Jackson has will clear up quickly…very quickly.  In fact, one suspects that his afflictions vanished as soon as his sentence was pronounced.   But they may make a temporary comeback if (when, probably) Mr. and Mrs. Jackson prepare their appeal.


Third, we have been hearing much about “wasted talent” and “a promising career” of “a young man who had the ability to go all the way” being “thrown away,” and other such bullroar from those die-hard liberals in the local and national media who “just wanna believe,” and can’t be convinced otherwise.  

Yours truly never bought into this hype.  Triple J was at best a passable Congressperson, at worst a lazy, entitled son of privilege who was clearly in over his head.   Until recently, he had a very good Congressional attendance record, but one wonders what he did other than attend.  In his 17 years in Congress, he never managed to win a committee chairmanship, despite the sycophancy most of his fellow Congressman showed him due to his last name and the perception that it carries a lot of weight with black voters.  He did manage to win a seat on the Appropriations Committee, but his record of achievement in that all-important Committee, like his overall record in Congress, was slight, at best.   He made a lot of noise about what came to be seen as his pet project, a third Chicago airport in distant Peotone, but there is still no airport growing from the cornfields in that bucolic burg.  He also proposed that each school child in America be given an i-Pad, courtesy of you, the taxpayer.   Hmm…perhaps we should be grateful that JJJ was unable to get anything done.   Even his much lauded oratory was only so much fulmination, much art and little substance, jargon and catch-lines amounting to nothing but pap and pabulum for the already converted.

When Mr. Jackson first came to Congress in 1995, all we heard about was what a terrific, wonderful, super hero of a young man he was, truly outstanding, upstanding, and all around beatific in every conceivable way.  It seemed to yours truly that such talk was just another orgiastic manifestation of the “just gotta believe” phenomenon among starry-eyed liberals with not even a passing familiarity with life on the ground in Mr. Jackson’s 2nd Congressional District.

We had heard nearly the same kinds of hosannas about Mel Reynolds, Mr. Jackson’s predecessor as Congressman in the 2nd District, when Mr. Reynolds defeated Gus Savage in 1992 to assume the seat.   Mr. Reynolds was described in nearly the same beatific tones as Mr. Jackson.   Mr. Reynolds was a Rhodes Scholar and he was….,well, given Mr. Reynolds’ thin resume and an inability to talk in anything but empty platitudes or understand the core of any issue, no one could come up with anything other than his Rhodes Scholarship.   In fact, Mr. Reynolds’ only qualification for Congress, let alone the sainthood his true believers seemed to be recommending him for, was that he was not his race-baiting, anti-Semitic predecessor Gus Savage.  

Mr. Reynolds went on to develop, or maybe just further indulge from a position of power, proclivities toward teenage girls, especially Catholic school girls (“I think I just won the lottery,” Mr. Reynolds response when he was told by what turned out to be an informant that the informant could set him up with a girl who attended a Catholic high school, is perhaps Mr. Reynolds’ most famous utterance, but I digress.) and lie to law enforcement about it.   Consequently, he was provided lodging in a federal facility  and was replaced by the equally underqualified Mr. Jackson.  The same people who just three years before were telling us how terrific Mr. Reynolds was began telling us that we had been visited by an even more celestial personage in Mr. Jackson.  I never believed it because there was never any basis for it other than the “just gotta believe” attitude that affects those whose minds are so open their brains fall out.   But Mr. Jackson’s obsequiants may have had a point; Mr. Jackson had at least one more qualification than Mr. Reynolds:  not only was Mr. Jackson not Gus Savage; he also was not Mel Reynolds.  As H.L. Mencken, one of the truly great figures in American history said,

“An idealist is one who, on noticing that a rose smells better than a cabbage, concludes that it will make a better soup.”



Fourth, there is much talk already about a Triple J comeback.   Don’t discount the possibility.  Young Mr. Jackson is not yet fifty and he’ll be out in about a year and a half.   He managed to win re-election by a landslide in 2012 despite his absence from both Congress and the campaign trail in the wake of suspicions regarding his dalliances with former Governor Rod Blagojevich about Barack Obama’s old senate seat and, of course, the onset of his mysterious maladies.  

Further, as H.L. Mencken also said in a widely misquoted observation…

“No one in this world, so far as I know—and I have researched the records for years, and employed agents to help me—has ever lost money by underestimating the intelligence of the great masses of the plain people. Nor has anyone ever lost public office thereby.”

So we have not yet heard the last from Jesse Jackson, Jr. and his accomplice, Sandi Jackson.   As Mr. Mencken also said, perhaps gazing at the 2nd District from far off Baltimore

“Democracy is the theory that the common people know what they want and deserve to get it good and hard.”

And, perhaps having a vision of the not yet born Jesse and Sandi Jackson, Mr. Mencken also observed

“Government is a broker in pillage, and every election is sort of an advance auction sale of stolen goods.”


Mr. and Mrs. Jackson are living, breathing, walking, talking manifestations of the wisdom of Mr. Mencken.


See my two books, The Chairman, A Novel of Big City Politics and The Chairman’s Challenge, A Continuing Novel of Big City Politics, for further illumination on how things work in Chicago and Illinois politics. 


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