THE FAST TRACK TO POLITICAL OBSCURITY

''In a month, who will remember the name Harriet Miers?'' -- Sen. Trent Lott, R-Miss.

Well, Mr. Lott, I don't think many of us will ever forget Harriet Miers.

Who can ever forget her unabashed loyalty to the smartest guy she ever knew? And that smile that bore into America's soul like the Howdy Doody hour? And the time she assured George and Laura Bush that they were "cool."

We'll never forget the time Bush described Miers by saying "she looks so petite and, well, harmless. But put her on your case and she becomes a pit bull in size 6 shoes."

But, alas, the diminutive pit bull announced Thursday she is withdrawing her name from consideration as a Supreme Court nominee, hounded out of the hunt by cynical politicians unwilling to trust the judgment of our commander in chief.

Like a shooting star streaking across the autumn sky, Miers lit up our lives for a brief and shining moment.

No, Mr. Lott, we will never forget Harriet Miers, even as cynical people like you relegate her to the scrap heap of obscure political figures who never got the chance to show America their true talents.

The path of American history is littered with the broken egos of bright, eager people who never got their proper due.

People like Trent Lott may have forgotten Joycelyn Elders, who for a short period was the surgeon general. But the rest of us can't help but remember the provocative Elders as she declared in her surgeonly way that self-gratification is probably better than no gratification at all.

Elders was an appointee of Bill Clinton, who created an entire nest of obscure political figures. Clinton had a particular talent for picking would-be attorneys general who hired undocumented workers to do their housework.

Ms. Miers, please allow us introduce you to Kimba Woods and Zoe Baird.

Miers joins a long and distinguished list of failed Supreme Court nominees, starting with a gentleman named William Patterson, who in 1793 withdrew his name from consideration after eliciting Congressional horse laughs when he was heard describing George Washington as "da bomb."

And then there's what's-his-name, the honorable Democrat from Colorado who everyone figured would be the next president until he was photographed emerging from a yacht named Monkey Business in the arms of a mistress named Donna Rice.

Gary Hart, meet Harriet Miers.

Also consider Geraldine Ferraro, who might have become a great pioneering American -- the first female vice president -- had she not hitched her wagon to someone who turned out to be the most obscure American political figure since William Henry Harrison.

Walter Mondale, meet Harriet Miers.

Bonus trivia question: What was the name of the law clerk who nearly derailed mighty Clarence Thomas' nomination to the Supreme Court?

Harriet Miers, meet Anita Hill.

And while we're on the subject of political footnotes, let's take a moment to remember the rogue cast who haunted the Nixon regime: Bebe Rebozo, Martha Mitchell, G. Gordon Liddy, Spiro T. Agnew and E. Howard Hunt.

Harriet Miers, meet Robert Bork.

TELL THEM MENSO SENT YOU!

I guess I'm not such a genius after all.

This sad truth came clear recently after I suffered the indignity of taking a Mensa brainiac test.

The folks at American Mensa are making a special effort this year to "reach out" to journalists, allowing them to take the test that would determine if they are certified geniuses. To qualify for Mensa, applicants must score in the top two percent on any standard IQ test.

From the outset, I wondered how smart these Mensa people really are. Why, for instance would the allegedly smartest people on earth believe they might find genius from among the ranks of journalists? Don't they read the papers? Haven't they been watching television news? Have they never stepped foot in a newsroom?

In the world of modern journalism, the definition of "mental acuity" is keeping up with George W. Bush during a press conference.

Question: What did the reporter get on his IQ test?

Answer: Coffee.

Expecting a journalist to qualify for Mensa is like expecting the president of the taxpayers' association to leave a decent tip at a restaurant.

If Mensans are so smart, why are they inviting journalists to join them?

And there are other clues. For example, I may not be a genius, but why would a group composed of brainiacs would name their club Mensa, which is Spanish for "dumb girl?"

Confused, I took Mensa up on its invitation. I was told to show up at the community room at a bank building on a Sunday afternoon for the test.

Because I am a journalist, I've always known I'm not a genius, despite recurring comments from readers who continually want to know "who the bleepin' genius is who writes those bleepin' columns on Fridays."

Also, my brain cells have suffered a steady deterioration over the years due to the fact that I am a sports fan who plays golf.

Oh yeah, and I'm from Prunedale. What self-respecting menso from Prunedale would admit to being a genius even if he was one?

Anyhow, my Mensa brainiac test was administered by a proctor trainee named Jacquelyn Powers under the watchful eye of a trained proctor named Bruce Dick. They both seemed like very normal people, despite their genius.

Powers informed me I will not be told the results of my tests, only that I would be notified whether I am qualified to join Mensa. In other words, I won't be told exactly how menso I really am.

"Why not?" I asked. If someone goes through all the trouble of taking the test, the least they can find out is how they scored.

Dick explained that Mensa officials are not doctors who are qualified to give people a true assessment of their intellectual prowess. Powers said liability issues are involved. Apparently, people take their genius — or their lack thereof — very seriously.

So I took the test, which is composed of a series of confounding questions that can only be answered with No. 2 pencils.

After my test is scored, I'll be formally notified by mail that testing me was a pointless exercise and a waste of a beautiful afternoon.

The good news, however, is that someone who might be reading this column might be a genius, despite the fact that they are reading this column. Mensa is holding its annual "admissions testing day" on Saturday.

Bring $30 and a photo ID to take the Mensa test to the Community Bank Community Room on 599 Lighthouse Blvd. at 12:45 p.m. The pencils are provided.

LETS STOP ALL THEM THERE ILLEGAL ALIENS!

In news from The Confederacy, an alien will become a United States citizen.

According to sources, a wookiee named Chewbacca will become a naturalized citizen of the U.S. during a ceremony Monday. Born in Kashyyyk, Chewbacca first emerged as a noted intergalactic figure as Han Solo's hairy, growling sidekick aboard the Millennium Falcon starship in several episodes of "Star Wars."

"I've always been interested in the cowboys and the history of the West and the history of America, so it wasn't so bad," said Peter Mayhew, who portrayed Chewbacca in the movies and who will become a citizen next week.

Upon hearing the news, a legislator from Colorado immediately introduced legislation to halt the immigration of illegal space aliens into the United States.

The legislator called his legislation "a step that will protect red-blooded Americans against the threat of hairy, growling sidekicks. If we allow wookiees to come willy-nilly into our country, there will be no stopping the dark lords of Sith from pouring in."

Unfortunately, the wookiee backlash is not contained to Colorado.

In New York City, for instance, transit officials stepped up subway security after receiving intelligence from space that evil wookiees have hatched a nefarious plan.

"The city is gripped with fear and paranoia," declared the mayor.

Homeland Security agents raised the alert level to whatever color means "severe danger."

Representatives from the Vigilante Wingnut Coalition of Arizona armed themselves with telescopes and fluttering flags to initiate a citizen space watch program designed to protect Americans against an invasion of illegal immigrant wookiees. Coalition officials said they hope to stem the tide of madmen wookiee terrorists who trek across the Sonoran Desert with bedrolls and bombing devices intent on wreaking havoc on the American way.

At CNN, Lou Dobbs broadcast a two-hour special devoted to the growing trend of job displacement in America's industrial sector titled "Widgets & Wookiees."

In California, where an increasing number of wookiees have been employed as strawberry pickers and hospitality workers, voters enacted laws that would eliminate educational opportunities to wookiee offspring and to ban public services to "brown furry immigrants who speak with a growl."

Efforts to enforce existing federal laws that would impose huge fines against employers who hire wookiees have mysteriously been suspended.

"Sure, they might be a threat to our way of life," said an industry analyst, "but wookiees are willing to work real hard for virtually no pay. And as long as the threat of deportation hangs over them, they don't complain. They're good for the economy."

In Texas, representatives from a wookiee settlement near Waco reported they have been harassed and attacked by what he called a "toothless band of drawlers."

A spokesman for the toothless band of drawlers said Texans are upset that wookiees are "taking all them good-paying jobs from us."

Overwhelmed immigration officials, sensing a trend, have asked Congress for an additional $300 billion to hire and train more "space patrol agents."

Angry Congressional leaders rejected the immigration officials' request, and instead authorized a $500 billion loan package that will improve economic conditions in Kashyyyk.

FAIR AND BALANCED -- NOT TO MENTION
MORE, BETTER, FASTER AND CHEAPER

We have been flummoxed, of late, by our inability to clearly define our mission.

We've gone the retreat route. We've gone round table. We've thrown money at consultants and market surveys.

But we have failed to come up with an appropriately catchy slogan that captures the essence of why were are the column you must depend upon to meet your weekly column needs.

If the Joe Livernois Column is to be taken seriously as serious journalism, it will need a serious slogan that will indicate to the consuming public that we are dedicated to slogans.

Especially if we expect to pawn ourselves off as serious journalists.

In addition to a slogan, we recognize that the column will need a lot of pleasing graphic elements, dramatic music, sound effects, dazzling promos and a perky weather guy.

But all that will come later.

First things first. We need a slogan, preferably one that does not include the words "moron" or "vapid."

Let's face it. We could be the best darn column on the face of the earth, but if we are unable to catch our consumers' attention with a memorable catch-phrase, our consumers will quickly divert their attention to a column that can.

That's because, our market surveys indicate, consumers are easily distracted. Also, they are not very bright and are interested in serious issues only if they feel they can also be entertained.

We have learned, with the assistance of marketing surveys and consultants, that consumers need to be slapped up the side of the head with high-minded bloviation, which is why Fox News has adopted the deviously ironic "Fair and Balanced" slogan.

With a slogan like "Fair and Balanced," you'd think Fox News would present gray and mild-mannered Cronkites, wearing bow ties and a grim countenance, instead of the collection of temple-throbbing Keepers of the Faith they have assembled to serve as moderators.

Unfortunately for Fox News, its Weather Guy Department remains shockingly apolitical.

But the main thing is that Fox News came up with a slogan that works.

So the staff and management at the Joe Livernois Column are desperately trying to craft an appropriate slogan.

Our original plans were ambitious — having James Earl Jones do a quick "This is the Joe Livernois Column" voiceover — but it turns out that James Earl Jones is suffering from some wierd vocal problem that keeps him from sounding like Darth Vader. And our consultants tell us that Ashton Kutcher does not possess the "voice of authority" the column so desperately needs.

The guys in production came up with a great slogan — More, Better, Faster, Cheaper — but our consultants informed us that the motto was first used by a famous communist, some guy named "Mao." What's more, the consultants said that using the slogan might flummox modern consumers who would certainly confuse us for Wal-Mart.

We then thought we had devised a catchy slogan — America's Most Trusted Column — but our legal department informed us that the motto could place us in a tenuous liability position "unless we stopped making stuff up all the time."

So we did the only rational thing we could think of. We fired our consultants.