Happy Harry Photo: New Yorker Edition

Reader Ann sends us this New Yorker profile of Harry, which is mostly flattering in the way it conveys Harry’s particular talent for smiling as he very gently fucks his enemies with a chainsaw:

In the end, the filibuster was preserved. The result was widely seen as a victory for Reid and a setback for his counterpart, Majority Leader Bill Frist, of Tennessee.

After that, Reid said, Bush “just didn’t need another fight.” He added, “He’s had plenty.” He pointed to a drop in Bush’s approval rating, and cited a recent Wall Street Journal / NBC News poll in which only forty-one per cent of the respondents said they believed that Bush was honest and straightforward. Reid attributed the President’s declining popularity to bad news from Iraq, the investigation into whether his key political adviser, Karl Rove, leaked the name of an undercover C.I.A. agent, and his proposal, now faltering, to privatize part of Social Security. “He’s always been king of the hill,” Reid said. “His numbers have been good, but they’re not good now.” Reid also thought that Bush had come to have a different view of him. “I just don’t think he estimated me at all—under or over.” Now, Reid said, “I think he understands me a little bit more than he used to.”

Go read the whole thing. Among the things I learned from it, this: Harry’s a really good writer of the sort I think First Drafters would appreciate.

Seven years ago, Reid wrote a history of his home town, “Searchlight: The Camp That Didn’t Fail,” published by the University of Nevada, in which he observed, “There are no permanent towns that survive on mining alone. When the tide goes out, when the boom is over, the debris is all that is left. . . . When the town fades, those with money, talent, and initiative generally depart quickly, leaving behind the diehards, the outcasts, the mavericks, or those too old or too sick to move on.”