# The Polished Razor (November 1972) **URL:** **By** Robert P. Baker **Published:** November 1, 1972 --- “If you believed the candidates, the November nonsense offered us “the fundamental choice of the century.” With a choice like that, I’d rather have had an echo.” ## Vox populi, vox ennui Commenting upon the recent national plebiscite is a bit like encountering an immense dung heap in some trackless desert; I can hardly ignore it, but what of significance can I possibly say? If you believed the candidates, the November nonsense offered us “the fundamental choice of the century.” With a choice like that, I’d rather have had an echo. The populo-fascist McGovern bleats plaintively that he’s not all that radical— and he isn’t—while the state-socialist Nixon coos enticingly that he’s not all that conventional — and he isn’t. And those of us who scourge ourselves by analyzing this sort of farce struggle desperately to perceive some plausible difference between them. I confess my inadequacy for the task. In the six presidential elections held since the end of World War II, the proportion of those Americans eligible to register and vote who actually bothered to do so has been declining steadily since 1960 despite ever more massive get-out-the-vote campaigns. This time, voter apathy is palpable, and, except for the usual cackle of the professional political shills, there is an ominous silence. Wouldn’t it be wonderful—to borrow a phrase—if they held an election and nobody came? Nixon avoided campaigning for any local candidates, hoping to snatch off some normally Democrat votes by playing it _pianissimo_ in regard to his party, while the local hopefuls, especially Democrats, pushed for the national ticket with all the vigor of the Ancient Mariner plugging albatross. Wallace remained aloof, and held McGovern in the contempt that a rebel reserves for a traitor, while on the sidelines, sitting on his hands, was a very blue Meany. These manifestations of underwhelming enthusiasm only mirrored the attitude of the general public. In short, an ever-decreasing number of Americans give a damn who heads up the conspiracy against them. The only discernible difference between the politicians of either party and the functionaries of organized crime lies in the fact that when you deal with the Mafia’s extortionists, you usually do get the protection you pay for. Yet how could things be otherwise? It is not the surface distinctions between McGovern and Nixon that strike me as insignificant, but their basic similarity, their similarity as men rather than as politicians. Neither man, apart from his public office, has any quality of competence or integrity that would make him stand out from the mass. To praise them for their skill in politics is to elevate an art for which decent men have no use. Theirs is the competence of the successful swindler. McGovern is a failed pedagogue out of a hick college, while Nixon is a former two-bit pettifogger who couldn’t make a go of a small town law practice. Of course they gravitated to politics. Do maggots infest carrion? In a free society, it is doubtful that either of these leaders of men would be able to make an honest living above the level of janitor, and both might very well wind up as objects of charity. Why has no environmentalist suggested recycling politicians back into the garbage from whence they come? ## Medical News One interesting item has washed up in the wake of the recent presidential visit to Peking: Several states have now authorized physicians to practice acupuncture, an ancient oriental method of fighting disease by inserting long needles into the body. No doubt this sort of thing will be followed up by A.M.A.-endorsed copper bracelets and uranium sitzbaths. It’s a result of our masters’ new friendliness towards the Communists, I expect, and a more ludicrous combination of medical and political.quackery is hard to imagine. The Chinese give us the needle, while Nixon gives us the shaft. ## Number, Please I suppose it had to come eventually: American Telephone \& Telegraph, the biggest of the state-maintained monopolies, has worked out an employment quota policy with the connivance of the federal government’s General Services Administration. A.T. \& T. has set aside specific numbers of jobs which will be given to women and members of ethnic minorities without regard to ability. The definition of minority, of course, is a bit restricted: only Orientals, Negroes, American Indians and those with Hispanic surnames qualify. Wladimir Pilsudski is going to find the going a bit rough if he wants to become a telephone Pole. So too, it’s going to hurt Joe Brownguy, who, having perhaps struggled up out of some slum and having become an expert on wiring, finds that the quota for his genetic group is filled. Sorry, Joe, you should have learned how to pull the right wires. And if Suzy Girl does manage to get a job as an electronics engineer, the male chauvinists will have support for their insinuations that tits are a substitute for talent. She would have been hired to fill the female quota regardless of her technical skills. There is no question that the A.T.\&T. policy violates the Civil Rights Act of 1964, but your masters in Washington are above the law. What’s next—cutting down on Jews in the professions, a _la_ Nuremberg, 1935?