Sublime

mordant

biographer.

for to attempt to render the representative of the State a powerful sovereign, and at the same time elective, is, in my opinion, to entertain two incompatible designs.

The official totals for the major candidates showed Houghton Brownlee with 3,019 votes; C. N. Avery with 3,951; Stone with 4,048; Polk Shelton with 4,420; Merton Harris with 5,111—and Lyndon Johnson with 8,280, 3,000 votes more than his nearest opponent. “When I come back to Washington,” Johnson had vowed, “I’m coming back as a Congressman.” Now, l

Hobbes’s Leviathan,

O’Daniel himself had had nothing to do with the arrangements, but on Monday morning, even he was told about them, and he in turn informed his aides; when one said that Johnson was still thousands of votes ahead, the Governor replied, “Well, that don’t make any difference.” The “drawn anxious looks of those close to O’Daniel” abruptly disappeared, t

These tactics had, of course, been employed within the confines of campus politics, so small-scale and insignificant compared to the politics of the outside world. Within those confines, nonetheless, had emerged a certain pattern to the tactics—the politicking—of Lyndon Johnson. Perhaps the most significant aspect of the pattern was its lack of any

As Burke said in describing his early years in Albany, “Murphy delegates to the point of anarchy.”7

People try to forecast and anticipate changes as best they can, but such forecasting can never be reduced to an exact science.