Countering political nepotism in America: a modest twine ball solution

Over at Salon, Glenn Greenwald rightfully frets about how Nepotistic succession in the political class is not so good for our democracy. We agree.

Since Greenwald cites a historical example of nepotism in Minnesota politics:

Illustrating that radical change, here's a revealing 1929 article from Time Magazine expressing some mild disapproval for what was, back then, the rare occurrence of a son who was elected to succeed his father in a Minnesota Congressional seat after the father was killed in a tragic fire (the new son-Congressman, the article noted, was "an engaging young man, thoroughly Nordic in appearance").  About this single familial succession, Time sternly intoned:  "Primogeniture and hereditary public office have no place in U. S. tradition."

we bring forth a modest proposal drawn from the experience of players during the same era of prairie politics. We're calling it The Twine Ball Solution.  Not far from where we sit, the Largest Ball of Twine Ever Rolled by Hand by a Single Guy is chilling in its pagoda. The stuff of legends and a Weird Al Yankovic song, the Darwin Twine Ball was twenty-five years in the making, rolled by the obsessive hands of Francis A. Johnson.

Given the nature of his life's work, few Americans--heck, few citizens in pastoral Meeker County--remember that Francis's dad was the colorful Magnus Johnson. The elder Johnson served as United States Senator and Representative, as well as serving in the Minnesota House and Senate.

A 1923 Time article, Magnus the Great, sums up his political agenda:

Magnus—everybody in Minnesota including himself calls him Magnus—won on a platform of Government control (in favor of the farmers) of railroads, coal mines, Federal Reserve Bank. He is for a cash soldier bonus, heavier income surtaxes, excess profits taxes, restriction of the power of the courts in granting injunctions against labor, better prices for farm products, no lowering of wages, no entangling alliances.

The only Swedish-born person to ever serve in Congress, the Farmer-Laborite was known for the theatrics in his farm-yard stump speech, wherein he'd hop on the nearest manure spreader and announce it was the first time he'd ever stood on a Republican platform (we've met a couple of old-timers who heard the line as teenagers).

We, too, pine for the golden age of civility in Minnesota politics.

 None of Magnus Johnson's many children followed him into politics that we know of, and Francis's enduring fame as a roller of twine suggests that the siblings and offspring of the powerful might quench their egos through other pursuits that will earn them a place in the Guiness Book of World Records.

Indeed, the Twine Ball Museum in Darwin, Minnesota, sells a twine ball starter kit for a mere $25. Those committed to stomping out nepotism should organize to distribute these kits to political families deemed vulnerable to aristocratic tendencies. Francis was also an obsessive whittler and collector, activities which might also busy the idle hands of America's growing political class.

We have no children of our own and are nearly past the ability to calve ourselves--nor are we on the staff of the Twine Ball Museum or Weird Al--and so offer this solution to the menace of dynasties merely as a patriotic American.

Photos: Magnus Johnson and his family in 1923, the year he was elected to the Senate (above); the Twine Ball Starter kit, an affordable solution to the problem of America's growing hereditary class (below).

And now for the Weird Al song, because this here is what America's all about: