Even we, your W Team, zealous as we are in our advocacy of Right American Thinking (RAT), may on occasion founder on the reef of ultra-conservative thought. Such a metaphorical shipwreck occurred recently when Republican Senator Rick Santorum of Pennsylvania again inserted himself like a stiletto into the national conscious.
 
For those who have abandoned mainstream media in favor of the more pertinent social commentary to be found on The Powerpuff Girls, or the Anna Nicole Show, a review of the Senator's remarks will be apposite.
 
The state of Texas, a principality directly adjacent to the southwestern border of the United States, has enacted a suite of laws regarding sodomy, which, as it turns out, they are against. Recently a case arose in which two male partners were arrested and charged with a violation of the state's "homosexual conduct" law. The statute prohibits "deviate sexual intercourse", which it defines as oral and anal acts with another person of the same sex. The gender distinction seems a bit superfluous since no heterosexual couple would even dream of doing such things.
 
The Texas Court of Appeals upheld their convictions on the grounds that the law advanced "a legitimate state interest, namely preserving the public morals." Skipping desperately past the implicit irony of the Texas Court of Appeals as a champion of morality, we note that the case has moved on to the U.S. Supreme Court.
 
In the course of an Associated Press interview, Senator Rick expressed his fear of the dire consequences that would ensue if the Court in effect permitted gay sex in the home. Then, he reasoned, "you have the right to bigamy, you have the right to polygamy, you have the right to incest, you have the right to adultery. You have the right to anything."
 
Everything, it seems, except the right to remain silent.
 
Apparently failing to notice that the reporter's jaw was now resting comfortably on her shoes, Mr. Santorum went on to say that such acts undermined the fabric of society, and were defended by those who espoused a "right to privacy that doesn't exist in [his] opinion in the United States Constitution."
 
Apparently we are permitted to purfue happineff, but not privaffy.
 
Then in a sudden turnabout of the sort that makes mental health workers nervous, the Senator generously offered a defense of homosexuality, saying that it was not "you know, man on child, man on dog, or whatever the case may be..."
 
It will be noted that the Senator's catalog of amatory excess did not include man-on-sheep. No reason was given for the omission.
 
Immediately upon airing these sentiments the Senator found himself on an arctic ice floe without even a walrus to keep him company. The administration went into huddled distraction, emerging now and then only to swear they knew him not.
 
It would be unfair to conclude from his remarks that the Senator is a man in thrall to homophobia's siren song. We're certain that some of his best friends are gay--although he doesn't know it yet.
 
No, the truth is that Mr. Santorum is a godly man--though perhaps more in a sense of identity than piety; that is to say, it is not so much that he loves God, as that he assumes he will one day be God.
 
And, as befits an aspirant deity, the Senator observes a bright line separating the sinner from the sin. He is, he says, opposed not to homosexuals, but to homosexual acts. This is a distinction that may seem loopy until one considers things from the Senator's unique sexual perspective, recalling that, unlike the rest of us, ultra-conservatives propagate only after an arduous swim upstream.
 
Something in the cold water stirs their little passions.
 
Understand also that this is not a case of mere cynical grandstanding. Mr. Santorum believes deeply in the sanctity of marriage and is prepared to defend it against any and all threats except infidelity and divorce. In this he is the voice of his devotedly conservative constituency, many of whom staunchly pro-family men who are both uncle and father to their children.
 
With a nod to the purity of his motives, numerous conservative voices rose in defense of the Senator and brought pressure on the White House to do the same. There followed an especially revealing press conference in which White House Press Secretary Ari Fleischer was asked about the President's opinions on the matter, and replied "the President typically never does comment on anything involving a Supreme Court case, a Supreme Court ruling, or a Supreme Court finding-typically."
 
When reminded that Mr. Bush had recently made voluminous commentary on the Courts' consideration of the University of Michigan affirmative action case, Mr. Fleischer responded "that's why I said 'typically'".
 
In fact, what he said was "typically never" which constitutes an exciting moment for amateur philologists because it hints at a lexicon in which use of the word "typical" means the speaker is actually saying something "atypical," or, to be more precise, is lying.
 
This is a virtual Rosetta stone in service of our long quest to deconstruct administration pronouncements. For example, it now seems clear that Weapons of Mass Destruction are typically to be found in Iraq, that big tax cuts will typically result in more jobs; and that Ari Fleischer is a typical Press Secretary.
 
For these insights we are indebted to Senator Santorum. Without his courage--if that is the word we seek--we might have had no inkling of the thinking--if that is the word we seek--underlying White House statements.
 
And we heartily second Mr. Bush's assertion of confidence in Mr. Santorum, and thank him for his characterization of the Senator as "an inclusive man"--a presidential endorsement that was at once generous and typical.