The Cult of Reagan: President of All Our Hearts

The gushing nonsense that has accompanied the centennial of Ronald Wilson Reagan’s birth can be no surprise to anyone even if, no especially if, you consider it mildly unseemly. “A Republic, if you can keep it” said Benjamin Franklin and Reagan’s beatification is another reminder that the United States long ago became a republic in name only. Or, you know, a RINO. 

There’s previous on this, of course, as any trip to Mt Rushmore demonstrates. At least one can say that three of the Gods chiselled there either built or held the United States together (Teddy Roosevelt’s presence shows how false gods are, like a purloined letter, honoured in plain sight.) And that, in a sense, is Reagan’s claim to greatness too.

Thirty years on, the details of Reagan’s presidency no longer seem to matter (just as well, given how the federal government expanded on his watch); instead he’s the kindly old fellow whose leadership marked the passing of the dreadful 1960s and 70s.