Head of a Damned Soul by William Blake, after Fuseli H aving in November found in the blue waters of the Caribbean the most blood-rich of feeding grounds for such among their red-state sharks as Ralph Reed , the Deep Thinkers who pant after pockets deeper still over at the National Review "Institute" have decided this month to book the next meeting of their group-griping donors' support group in post-electoral grief a mere glass-housed stone's throw from the bloodier waters still of the Potomac. Among the " Confirmed Speakers " scaling this latest among the magazine's Six-Inch Summits for the Two-Inch Man: John Allison, the new president of a venerea-, er, venerable DC policy shop calling itself The Cato Institute, the tracing of whose reasons, utterly predictable in their decadence, for finding himself in the clammy embrace of such elite company within the ranks of the damned, is left as an exercise for the reader. C ommentary asks its 53 symp
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