Nice summary of college costs by VDH:
The vast spike in college costs — which have risen far faster than the annual rate of inflation — is due to the growth of administrative bloat (much of it in diversity bureaucracies), the expansion of universities into lifestyle landscapes, from upscale rec centers to advocacy programs and outreach (including the sort of guest lecturing in which Ms. Clinton is paid $300,000 for a 30-minute talk), and universities’ lack of fiscal restraint due to federally guaranteed student loans.
It’s a fun piece in which he quotes Johnny Cash/NIN’s “Hurt.”
The problem with all of Ms. Clinton’s advocacies is not that the liberal positions she supports are unusual; indeed, her proposed solutions to these problems are standard progressive orthodoxy.
The rub instead is that almost every issue that Ms. Clinton has raised and every position of advocacy that she now embraces are direct refutations of either her present or her past behavior — and sometimes both. Surely she is aware of that? …
We all understand the principles of medieval liberal exemption. Progressives often voice abstract anguish to win psychological absolution and political cover for their own moral lapses and hypocrisies: The louder the condemnation, often the greater the guilt and the need for absolution…
Hillary Clinton has developed a strange but habitual tic of railing and remonstrating about hot-button issues and egregious behaviors that offer windows into her own plagued soul, past and present. It is as if Hillary has become an ailing Johnny Cash singing “Hurt” — draped in black at the end, a faint simulacrum of his once combative self, seeking new resonance through a rocker’s lyrics for the confession of his own sins: “I wear this crown of s— / Upon my liar’s chair.”
In her Freudian calls for solutions to the sort of ethical and moral transgressions that have defined her own long career, near the end of it, Hillary Clinton seems to be asking in vain of her dissipating cadres of true believers, “What have I become?”
As she limps along, wounded, on the campaign trail, her flat, half-hearted sermons are best translated as, “You could have it all, / My empire of dirt. / I will let you down. / I will make you hurt.”