The Frog and Mr. Cain

I chuckle when people go all rational and try to decipher Herman Cain. To paraphrase that "This Is Your Wake-Up Call" dude in those clever Sears commercials, folks are doing way too much overthinking "all up in here."

Anyway, Steve Benen is the latest to give it a go:

"[T]he question that I keep coming back to is why in the world Herman Cain even decided to run for president in the first place. He had to realize that the sexual misconduct allegations would surface eventually, which would prove humiliating to Cain and his family. He doesn't seem to understand government or public policy; he's never held public office at any level; he seems to have a Bush-like level of intellectual curiosity; and he appears to have a scandal-plagued personal life. Cain realized all of this and decided to launch a presidential campaign anyway? What was he thinking?"

What was he thinking? He wasn't ― thinking, that is. Like all megalomaniacs, Cain believed he was invulnerable. Indeed, until he tossed his hat into the presidential ring, he had gotten away with every sexual misdeed (assuming the sundry allegations from five women are true). Even then, he nearly pulled it off. But Cain is the classic illustration of the fable, "The Scorpion and the Frog." A scorpion asks a frog to carry him across a river. Fearful that the scorpion may sting him, the frog is reluctant to do so. "But why would I sting you?" says the scorpion. "You'd sink if I stung you and we'd both drown, right?" The frog agrees and they begin their watery journey. Midway across the river the scorpion stings the frog. "Oops," the scorpion says to the shocked frog, "it's just my nature." Both creatures then drown. Cain of course is the scorpion. He just can't help himself. "Thinking" has nothing to do with it. And his own political drowning is imminent.