The great man has no seed
“The great man has no seed,” claims an old Japanese proverb.
Jesse Jackson Jr. and Robert Kennedy Jr. live as if to validate ancient Oriental wisdom. The diminutive suffixed to their surnames at birth should have been understood as foreshadowing. Big shots are often small, petty.
Kennedys used to make headlines in the New York Times. Now they make them in the National Enquirer.
Robert Kennedy Jr.’s wife hanged herself in May amidst adultery allegations against her husband that even his sympathizers affirm. “Yes, of course he’s an adulterer,” septuagenarian suck-up Laurence Leamer told Inside Edition. “But he’s an adulterer because he said he couldn’t get a divorce. What was he going to do, when he asked for a divorce, and she threatened suicide?”
Kennedy, despite filing for divorce, insisted that his wife be buried in his Cape Cod family plot—she reportedly wasn’t allowed on their Hyannis compound in recent years—rather than near her family in Westchester, New York. When Mrs. Kennedy’s family held a memorial service, RFK, Jr. kept her kids away, just as Mary Kennedy’s family had largely stayed away from Kennedy’s service.
It’s good that they did.
Kennedy delivered an excuse disguised as a eulogy. He insisted his wife had suffered from inherited mental illness rather than acquired mental anguish. The man dubbed “the drug master of his generation” in the book The Kennedys: An American Drama frequently reminds everyone of his dead wife’s addictions. “She blamed me for taking her away from her profession,” he defensively maintained. “I know I did everything I could to help her.”
What do you do for an encore?
If you are Robert Kennedy Jr., you exhume your wife and place her in an as-yet unmarked grave several football fields away from your blood relatives after feuding with her blood relatives that she be buried in the Kennedy family plot. He gives cads a bad name.
At least Congressman Jesse Jackson Jr. can say that he isn’t Robert Kennedy Jr.—or his predecessors Gus Savage or Mel Reynolds, either. If only their dads had been famous.
Representative Jackson, whose district contains more single mothers than any other in America, truly represents.
Jesse’s girls include his wife and a blonde-bombshell bikini model. Surely this indiscretion isn’t as egregious as Jackson’s congressional predecessor Mel Reynolds, convicted on underage sex and child pornography charges, or Reynolds’ predecessor Gus Savage, accused of groping a Peace Corps volunteer in Zaire. Savage apologized that he “never intended to offend” his alleged victim but only after he had called her a “traitor to the black race.”
Girl troubles are the least of Jackson’s. His former friend and fundraiser got pinched by the feds on fraud charges last week. Raghuveer Nayak, who carted Jackson’s mistress around the country on his plane, allegedly offered Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich upwards of a million dollars in campaign cash to place Jesse Jackson Jr. in Barack Obama’s vacated senate seat.
Blagojevich sits in jail. Nayak is free on $10 million bond in a separate case. Is Jesse Jackson Jr. the next domino to fall?
Perhaps this is what has put the Rainbow Coalition dauphin in a foul mood. The Chicago congressman stopped going to work more than a month ago without telling his 700,000 or so bosses back in the district. His office deceptively issued press releases quoting the congressman and updated his Facebook page as though he were on the job. But they now claim that Jackson had been receiving treatment for a “mood disorder” all along.
Is the treatment route the politician equivalent of a bad child closing his eyes and wishing himself invisible?
A public adultery scandal and a federal investigation is enough to give anyone a “mood disorder.” But since the congressman doesn’t wear a mood ring we have no scientific way of knowing whether the “mood disorder” is dodge or disease. Moods pass. Disorders remain.
Jesse Jackson’s name bought him his seat in the House of Representatives. Did he think his money could buy him a seat in the Senate?
When you are raised to believe that your destiny is to rule the world, it’s easy to believe that the world’s rules don’t apply to you. Ordering around adult servants and never hearing the greatest word in the English language—no—is no way to grow up. It’s a way to stay a child. Jackson and Kennedy inherited name, wealth, and privilege. They didn’t earn their position so they don’t appreciate it.
“Those who have too much of the goods of fortune, strength, wealth, friends, and the like, are neither willing nor able to submit to authority,” reflected Aristotle in the Politics. “The evil begins at home; for when they are boys, by reason of the luxury in which they are brought up, they never learn, even at school, the habit of obedience.”
This a Greek’s way of saying that “the great man has no seed.”