Green Revolution &c

At Daniel Webster's alma mater, voting is underway in the Board of Trustees election, in which two write-in insurgents, former Reagan speechwriter Peter Robinson and the Volokh Conspiracy's Todd Zywicki, are challenging the entrenched leftist "monolith on the hill."

Observes a commenter at Dartmouth alum Roger L Simon's blog:

Is it cosmic convergence? Two Lebanons, one in the ME and one in NH, are in the news because of the unexpected movement towards the democratization of their governments. Each of these events will have long lasting repercussions among their sister institutions. The future looks inviting.

Dartlog is following the vote.

More on the bid to take back Dartmouth: Cliopatra * Robinson's platform * Power Line's Scott Johnson on Bucking the Deans at Dartmouth * On the insurgent candidates * A Green Dream

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The illustration above comes from a beautiful edition of The Devil and Daniel Webster that has been posted online.

You see, for a while, he was the biggest man
in the country. He never got to be President,
but he was the biggest man. There were thou-
sands that trusted in him right next to God
Almighty, and they told stories about him and
all the things that belonged to him that were
like the stories of patriarchs and such. They said,
when he stood up to speak, stars and stripes came
right out in the sky, and once he spoke against
a river and made it sink into the ground. They
said, when he walked the woods with his fishing
rod, Killall, the trout would jump out of the
streams right into his pockets, for they knew it
was no use putting up a fight against him; and,
when he argued a case, he could turn on the
harps of the blessed and the shaking of the earth
underground. That was the kind of man he was,
and his big farm up at Marshfield was suitable
to him. The chickens he raised were all white
meat down through the drumsticks, the cows
were tended like children, and the big ram he
called Goliath had horns with a curl like a
morning-glory vine and could butt through an
iron door. But Dan'l wasn't one of your gentle-
men farmers; he knew all the ways of the land,
and he'd be up by candlelight to see that the
chores got done. A man with a mouth like a
mastiff, a brow like a mountain and eyes like
burning anthracite-that was Dan'l Webster in
his prime. And the biggest case he argued never
got written down in the books, for he argued it
against the devil, nip and tuck and no holds
barred. And this is the way I used to hear it told.

It's wonderful.

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East of West Lebanon, NH: The front page of Robert Fisk's newspaper yesterday * Protests breaking out in unlikely places, via Publius Pundit