The last time I linked to Little Green Footballs was almost certainly in 2004, during the Rathergate controversy. That extraordinary piece of journalism put Charles Johnson on the map as far as the blogosphere was concerned, along with Powerline and a couple of other blogs. Interestingly, while Michelle Malkin and other bloggers have gone on to multi-media success, Johnson became the blogosphere's Cindy Sheehan.

I stopped reading LGF rather quickly and abruptly when it became clear to me that Johnson was....er-r-r-r...a bit of a nut. His paranoid rants on Islam were divorced from reality--and that's putting it mildly.

A few months ago, I read something about Johnson that I managed to dig up again.

When I met Charles, back in 2004, he was fiftyish and driving a somewhat battered Hyundai. According to Raj, he'd been cleaned out in recent divorce and didn't have much more than that Hyundai, his computer and his bike. That's got to be a tough thing to take at fifty. It is probably fair to say that Little Green Footballs and the blogosphere were about the only things Charles had going for him. Which is, quite frankly, somewhat sad.

Sad, and dangerous.

Dangerous because it gave Charles Johnson, middle-aged mediocrity, the out he needed when it came to dealing with the fact that he was just another average guy. It's something that the vast majority of us have to deal with at some point in our lives. We spend our first forty or so years believing that we are indeed special, that we can indeed do anything we want to (if only we work hard for it). It's what's been drilled into us since birth. And then, one day, we wake up and realize that we aren't special. We cannot do whatever we put minds to. We discover we are mediocre. We are average.

What's important to note about this, at least as it applies to Charles Johnson, is that the notoriety gained from the Rather Affair, combined with popularity of Little Green Footballs has allowed Charles the opportunity to avoid, up until about a year ago, the day he had to reckon with his own mediocrity. He could look past his personal and professional setbacks and gaze upon the glory that was blogospheric prominence. If nothing else, he could now claim to being an influencer... Someone of importance... A leader.

And herein lies the seeds of Charles Johnson's self-destruction: He is not a leader. He's an average guy.

I'm not writing to disparage Johnson, who I don't know from Adam, but this turn of events brought to mind the oft-repeated lesson that while technology evolves, human nature does not--at least not nearly as quickly. The early hope for a democratic media soon gave way to the reality of kicking and scratching for attention and a shot at the big time--cable news guest commentator spots (woo-wee!). Whereas some moved rather naturally into expanded roles (Glenn Harland Reynolds), others were aggressively careerist (Michelle Malkin), Charles Johnson saw his success as an anointing; divine approval of his opinions.

He's more like a religious leader now, leading his minions in whatever philosophical direction the spirit leads him. Johnson was never a movement conservative, rather his opinions just happen to coincide, for a little while, with the conservative viewpoint. I suspect his new allegiance to the left will be just as tenuous.