Hal O'Brien

Robert Heinlein once wrote the following definition of a gentleman: Someone who would rather be a dead lion than a live jackal. He had a character, Lazarus Long (who may have been modeled on Heinlein's friend, L. R0n Hubbard), say that he'd rather be a live lion, so he didn't qualify.

It's with that in mind that I read this piece in the New York Times, and this piece by E.J. Dionne, all about how there's a wing in the Republican party that's in a lather about the idea of Florida governor Charlie Crist running for Mel Martinez' soon-to-be-vacated seat.

Crist, who supported John McCain loudly and vigorously during the presidential campaign, is condemned by some for having the temerity to act in the best interests of his state and country by supporting Obama and the stimulus plan. You'd almost think there was a reason he'd support a candidate who spoke so often at a podium that read, "Country First." (Even if that candidate never did publicly acknowledge that every time he did so, he was supporting his opponent over himself. But it's the thought that counts.)

So they're supremely worried that someone who puts policy, morality, legality, and ethics ahead of the in-group out-group tribal dynamics of today's Republican party might... might... win an election, or something equally offensive to their delicate sensibilities.

So, now we finally have a label for these faux "conservatives," who wish to conserve nothing, and are far more radical than anything else:

The Dead Jackals.

Because that's clearly their stand: A candidate should value conformity to the tribal consensus above all else, even if that means losing elections, even if that means doing their worst for the country as a whole. Want to act to save business? Not if you're a Dead Jackal. Want to act with Christian charity and humility? Not if you're a Dead Jackal. Want to acknowledge that torture is overwhelmingly counter-productive, and serves no purpose other than to vent sadism? Not if you're a Dead Jackal.

Why? Because the tribe says so, that's why.

And so it goes...

Well, I'm probably going to regret this, because it'll prolly generate e-mail once it hits Google, but... I was reminded of this earlier this week, and thought I'd share.

Return with me now to those thrilling days of yesteryear... Circa mid 1980s. I was still getting around LA by bus. There was a big court case going on with the Church of Scient*logy (hereinafter S-Church, for Google reasons). The S-Church, being the media mavens that they are, decided one way to get their message out was to plaster RTD's buses with billboards. Not a bad plan, as RTD used downtown as a hub, so that would mean all these pro-S-Church billboards going right by the County Courthouse.

I already knew that the L. in L. R0n stands for "Lafayette". So I would have conversations in my head, in that familiar way I have, that would begin, "Lafe, let me tell you about these followers of yours. They just don't get the joke!"

But... But... Waitaminnit. "Lafe Hubbard". I'd heard that before.

Indeed, I had.

I refer the interested reader to pg. 11 of Heinlein's Time Enough for Love, wherein one finds, among the many other names of the Senior, that he sometimes went by the moniker Dr. Lafe Hubert.

I submit the distance from Hubbard to Hubert is not far at all. Especially with "Lafe" as an off-ramp.

But it gets better.

Let's go to page 20, where Justin Foote the 45th is writing his nominal introduction to Lazarus Long's memoirs. Heinlein is sometimes criticized for not describing his characters physically, but check this out:

"As may be -- If today I see a man with sandy red hair, a big nose, an easy disarming grin, and a slightly feral look in his gray-green eyes, I always wonder how recently the Senior has passed through that part of the Galaxy. If such a stranger comes close to me, I put my hand on my purse. If he speaks to me, I resolve not to make wagers or promises."

With that in mind, look at this picture:

Lazarus, arise!



This second picture was the one the S-Church used on the billboards:

Heinlein is sometimes critiqued for writing endless variations of himself. And I can see that, somewhat. You want to tell me that the characters Jubal Harshaw, or Prof. de la Paz are variations of Heinlein... Hey, I have no problem with that.

But Lazarus is different. Lazarus is crooked in a way that I just can't see Heinlein as viewing himself... even if he's crooked in a rapscallious, rogueish, semi-admirable way.

Also, look at the basic plot of the set-up of TEFL: Group of "descendents" kidnap the ol' scamp, for his "wisdom". They don't allow him to "abandon" them -- regardless of his own wishes. He eventually becomes reconciled to this, but...

And remember how L. R0n went into "seclusion" beginning in the 1970s, just as TEFL was written.

All circumstantial, to be sure... but Ph.D. theses have been written on less.

UPDATED TO ADD, 2007-02: Another "coincidence" recently occurred to me: "L. Long" vs "L. R0n." Hmm...

UPDATED TO ADD, 2009-05: In "The Tale of the Man Who Was Too Lazy to Fail" section of TEFL, the main character described is a member of the US Navy. The standard reading of this is as a nod to Heinlein's own time in the Navy. But L. R0n had a thing for the Navy as well, as anyone familiar with the existence of the Sea Org within the S-Church should realize.