ON THE POLITICS OF WWW

Every week we'll have new content highlighting presidential toughness and weakness for your consideration. Then, every month we'll announce a new match-up and the winner of last month's fight. This month-by-month mayhem will eventually lead us to an overall winner who will be universally recognized to be, in fact, the single toughest president in American history.

Why?

Because let's face it, presidential elections have become a giant pissing contest. Post 9/11 especially, politicians seem fixated on proving how tough they are. Tough on crime. Tough on terrorism. Tough on immigration. The last thing any politician wants to be accused of is being soft, on anything. While most political ads are filled with toughness, nobody would ever think of emphasizing softness in a slogan. "Dennis Kucinich: Soft on Baby Pandas". Clearly, nobody wants a president who is tough on baby pandas, yet the slogan would never work, no matter how true.

The need for manliness in a president is not a new phenomenon either. FDR would not allow himself to be photographed in his wheelchair because it would seem weak. Martin Van Buren's political enemies tried to undermine him by spreading rumors he wore a corset. Grover Clevelend had a mouth tumor removed on a boat in the atlantic ocean to keep it a secret, because nothing is unmanlier than a mouth tumor, right? James Madison fought a rabid dog in front of a crowd of 2,000 to help his image after the war of 1812. The last one may not be true (prove that it didn't happen!), but the first three are, and they speak of our national expectations' of a president physical strength and toughness.

At the current rate, the 2040 presidential election will be decided with a ruler, while the slightly more sophisticated senatorial elections will use a bowl of water and the archimedes' water displacement principle. If we, or the media, or politicians, were honest about our obsession with toughness, we would ask a natural question: which president in history was the toughest? and more specifically, who would win in a fight?

It's the simplest and most basic way to compare two different things to assess relative greatness. Which if any of the following legendary and seemingly unsettleable arguments could not be settled once and for all by asking the simple question, "who would win in a fight to the death?"

The Rolling Stones vs. The Beatles
Earth vs. Mars
Lion vs. Tiger
Superman vs. Batman
Time vs. Space
Stevie Wonder vs. A feral cat
Lincoln vs. Douglas
Good vs. Evil
Katie Couric vs. Dan Rather
Jesus vs. Charles Barkley
New York vs. Chicago
Man vs. Nature
X vs. Y
Woodward vs. Bernstein
Hot Dogs vs. Hamburgers
Us vs. Them
Baseball vs. Football
America vs. Europe
1 vs. 0

Would the answer always be correct? No. Would it always be final? Yes, and that's what matters; settling the unsettleable.

In anticipation of the country's future realization of the centrality of this question, the Washington Pugilist seeks to examine this question in a historical context. It's the question that's asked indirectly over and over again, implied at every turn, and underlying many of our subconscious worries about presidential fitness: of all the U.S. President's throughout history, who would win in a fight? As historical theoreticians we have answered the unanswerable before (see our book on tape series "12 People You Won't Meet in Heaven: From Lizzy Borlen to Dick Van Dyke"). Now we're going to lay the facts out, and look at what we know about histories toughest president's to measure their odds in a fight. Occassionally, we will also take time to look down on America's weakest presidents, to remind us that toughness is important, but there are plenty of exceptions to the rule, weak, sickly, exceptions (I'm looking at you, John Quincy Adams).

In order to evaluate this question we'll use the tools available to us. By digging through history books, correspondance, speeches, and newspapers, we'll attempt to outline their strengths and weaknesses. Each president will be given a one to ten score on the following six qualities: size, strength, speed/agility, experience, ruthelessness, and cunning. With a ten in each catagory representing some freakish combination of Andre the Giant, a young Mike Tyson, and a grizzly bear and a one in each category representing a naked, soaking wet Stephen Hawking with a bad flu and no wheelchair. Let the games begin, and may God have mercy on our souls.

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