Forbes:

Be it known: Chris Matthews does not use a ghostwriter. The “Hardball” host does all his own writing, and he resents the idea that anyone would ever think otherwise. Strongly.

I find that out the hard way. We’re talking about his new book, “Jack Kennedy: Elusive Hero” — it’s currently No. 4 on Amazon, by the way — when the subject turn to “Profiles in Courage.” Kennedy won a Pulitzer for the book even though he farmed out most of the actual writing to an uncredited co-author, his aide Ted Sorensen. Did Matthews have a Sorensen of his own, I wonder?

Matthews’ genial, boyish face darkens. “Forget you,” he says.

(Only he doesn’t say “forget you.” Both Matthews and my editor asked me not to print what he actually said, so I rely here on my readers’ familiarity with both the original and radio versions of a certain Cee-Lo Green song.)

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There’s an old saying that describes the fortunes of families, corporations and criminal enterprises: “From shirtsleeves to shirtsleeves in three generations.” You know: John D. Rockefeller, John D. Rockefeller, Jr., Nelson Rockefeller… the other Rockefellers.  Time Inc. editor-in-chief Henry Luce, Hedley Donovan, Henry Grunwald… Your Name Here. Five Families Boss Carlo Gambino, Paul Castellano, John Gotti… Gotti, Jr.

But what better example of declining fortunes can there be than the Kennedy clan of County Wexford, Boston, Hyannisport, Palm Beach and Chappaquiddick.  From Patrick Joseph Kennedy to Joseph P. Kennedy (the Patriarch), to John Fitzgerald Kennedy to…

Yes, Patrick Kennedy, the soon-to-be-former Congressman from Rhode Island, substance abuser, drunk, late-night car crasher and all-around whackjob, was in the news again today, lashing out at, well, pretty much everybody in one of his farewell addresses to the nation.

Amazingly, he went after the media.  From ABC News’ The Note: (more…)

Two years ago today, William F. Buckley moved on to the great Firing Line in the Sky where he is, no doubt, still debating the wisdom of turning over the Panama Canal with the Gipper. Buckley’s legacy lives on, not only in the remarkable generation of writers that he spawned after he first dared to stand athwart history and yell stop but, in an odd sort of way, in the manner in which some of the liberals he defied over the course of five decades seem to pine for the great man’s genteel ways.

On a personal note, Buckley was one of the two great influences in the creative life of this particular – not particularly humble – correspondent. The other was that irascible Chicago newspaperman/Everyman: Mike Royko. It’s difficult to imagine an odder couple, but Buckley and Royko shared at least a couple of common characteristics. One took them on at one’s peril (and very few ever successfully did so) and neither could be neatly constrained within an ideological box. Royko was classically liberal, but he openly scorned the liberal elite. Buckley became the symbol of the conservative movement, but he refused to let the movement define him, cutting his own path through the ideological jungle when necessary, most famously when he argued for the legalization of many illegal drugs. Agree or disagree, both Royko and Buckley were thinkers, and honest thinkers to boot, who had a knack for expressing their thoughts with the kind of panache that left their readers breathless in awe. (more…)