"They told me," Martin Sheen's Willard says to Marlon Brando's Kurtz in "Apocalypse Now," at the end of a long journey up the river, "that you had gone totally insane, and that your methods were unsound."
His baldness bathed in gold, his body pooled in shadow, Kurtz murmurs: "Are my methods unsound?"
And Willard — filthy, hollow-eyed, stunned by what he's seen — replies: "I don't see any method at all, sir."
This is basically how reasonable people should feel about the recent conduct of the House Republicans.
Politics is a hard business, and failure is normal enough. It's not unusual for political parties to embrace misguided ideas, pursue poorly thought-out strategies, persist in old errors and embrace new ones eagerly.
So we shouldn't overstate the gravity of what's been happening in Washington. There are many policies in American history, pursued in good faith by liberals or conservatives, that have been more damaging to the country than the Republican decision to shut down the government this month, and many gambits that have reaped bigger political disasters than most House Republicans are likely to face.
But there is still something well-nigh-unprecedented about how Republicans have conducted themselves of late. It's not the scale of their mistake or the kind of damage that it's caused, but the fact that their strategy was such self-evident folly, so transparently devoid of any method whatsoever.
Every sensible person, most Republican politicians included, could recognize that the shutdown fever would blow up in the party's face. Even the shutdown's ardent champions never advanced a remotely compelling story for how it would deliver its objectives. And everything that's transpired since, from the party's polling nose dive to the frantic efforts to save face, was entirely predictable.