Here’s a bagatelle, a French word denoting something unimportant, however cute. It has to do with Paul Gottfried. History has repeatedly proved that the nobility has always been better fitted for the business of ruling. Paul, mind you, is noble in his mind and behavior, which as far as I’m concerned, trumps nobility of birth.  Recently he had invited me to speak to one of his seminars—an honor—one which I failed to attend because I …  got drunk the night before in New York. Getting drunk is not important, but Paul’s reaction is. Once I told him the truth, he reacted like our Lord Jesus. Not only did he forgive me, he actually managed not to make me feel as if I had put him on the spot. Which I had. The sign of a real gent. I write this because Paul has written a book about the American Right. The Weekly Standard. WSJ, Fox and other neo-con crap carriers will do their best to ignore it. I will be writing about this in my London Spectator column, the trouble being the Brits are not familiar with a Taft Republican—the subject of Paul’s brilliant last chapter, which explains how the world would be so much better off if Taft had won in 1952. Take it from me—and alas, I know I’m preaching to the converted—Paul’s book on the American Right shines a light on the greatest hoax perpetrated on conservatives since Germans mistook Hitler for a patriot.