Sickness

Think of it as a kind of cultural elite part two. In the coming weeks we'll discover who we really elected last week--the dozens of hangers-on and big-wig fund raisers working behind the scenes for months who will be rewarded with a comfy spot somewhere in the Beltway in the new cabinet. While it's only natural that we'd like to know their names, we're also aware that this endless, boundless curiousity is a national sickness. For months we've welcomed the poorly written reams of over-analyzed crap about the election. Just think of all the breath wasted over smelly cigars and cups of coffee all over the country. Now the second it's over, we hop on something else and flap our mouths trying to predict the names of Clinton's cabinet members. The best thing to do--what we've done in this issue--may be to follow the old saying and stick to our roots: Harvard. Unfortunately, coming from Harvard and seeing as how a bunch of these guys probably will have passed through here at some point, we're in the uncomfortable position of seeming either egotistical, presumptuous or both when we try to predict cabinet members. Look around you--that guy on his way to a final punch dinner...the library hound bending over her notes in the caverns of Widener...one of them will soon be your Secretary of State.