I know I'm very late to the Trent Lott pile-on, but anyone who praises Strom Thurmond's 1948 segregationist campaign deserves what he gets.
Josh Marshall has broken much of the story, including laying out Lott's record of neo-Confederate activism in excrutiating detail. (Liberal blogger Atrios has also come up with some good nuggets.) Just as noteworthy, the clamor for Lott to go has ben led by conservative bloggers and media (see the last week's worth of posting on InstaPundit and Andrew Sullivan for most of the appropriate links.) Some of the best pieces have come from National Review Online - click here, here and here for examples.
Probably the most eloquent explanation of why Lott must go was provided by Charles Krauthammer:

This is not just the kind of eruption of moronic bias or racial insensitivity that cost baseball executive Al Campanis and sports commentator Jimmy the Greek Snyder their careers. This is something far more important. This is about getting wrong the most important political phenomenon in the past half-century of American history: the civil rights movement. Getting wrong its importance is not an issue of political correctness. It is evidence of a historical blindness that is utterly disqualifying for national office.

Josh Marshall and others have raised the troubling point about Lott's history:

The truth is that everyone who's sentient and even remotely keeps up on politics has known about this stuff for years -- at least since the last Trent Lott-segregation scandal broke back in late 1998. Sad to say, everyone just agreed not to pay attention, not to care.

Why, in fact, did this latest gaffe erupt and hopefully end Lott's career as a political leader, while his awful history did not? Why was this the last straw?
I can think of a couple of contributing factors:
1) Lott's case reminds me a lot of Pat Buchanan's gradual implosion in respectability over the last decade. For years, there was copious evidence of Buchanan's bigotry, but the DC political-media establishment couldn't emotionally comprehend that the nice man they dealt with regularly actually believed such hateful things. Eventually, the evidence became too great to ignore.
2) For better or (mostly) worse, the majority of the American body politic will put up with a certain amount of mud-wallowing to get elected. Such a candidate may earn a certain amount of amnesty if he: a) goes through some motion of repudiation and b) signals that on some level, he doesn't really believe in the merits of the objectionable beliefs. (This is the obverse of Paul Krugman's column today; the objectionable candidates also have to signal to the more tolerant majority that they don't really believe in the objectionable tactics they're using.) Lott repudiated the CCC group in the past, grudgingly though it was. When he then makes the statement at thurmond's party, in a non-campaigning context, it dispells any disavowals he has ever made and recasts all his prior objectionable acitivities - as evidence of his beliefs rather than mere tactics. That's why Trent Lott looks much different now than he did last week.
As Josh Marshall noted:

Much of the wobbly coverage of this story (and much of the deep unease over this among conservatives) stems from fact that this obviously wasn't some misstatement or hyperbole or slip of the tongue. It's what the guy believes. You can tell that from just listening to his words. And it's clear from the man's long history of hobnobbing with neo-confederate wing-nuts and general nostalgia for the pre-civil-rights era South. It's even painfully, and belatedly, clear from his weird unwillingness to utter even a pro forma condemnation of segregation. It's what the guy believes.

Hopefully Lott will resign this afternoon.

What a serendipitous day for those three misunderstood nations!
Iraq has given VX nerve gas to al-Qaeda.
North Korea announces it is reactivating its plant for nuclear weapons.
And now it is revelaed that Iran has two secret nuclear sites, ideal for making atomic weapons.
Undoubtedly, just another day at the office for those three countries.

1) Glenn Reynolds has recently reported an apparent increase in urgency among state public health officials charged with dealing with smallpox, among other horribles.
In the last day, the following two items are also being reported:
2) President Bush has decided to revive a nationwide smallpox vaccination program, beginning with soldiers and emergency personnel and eventually extending to the entire country.
3) Apparently Iraq has recently supplied VX nerve gas to al-Qaeda.
I suspect there may be a connection between items 1-2 and 3.

This was supposed to be an extended discussion of this year’s candidates for the Hall of Fame.
After working on it for several days and only gotten to half of the viable candidates after several pages, I’ve decided that less is more.
For a more comprehensive look at the candidates, check out Aaron Gleeman’s outstanding overview, with both basic biographical and statistical information on each candidate, as well as an assessment of each candidate’s case. I won’t try to repeat his efforts (i.e. I will free-ride on his)
As mentioned below, David Pinto recently noted an e-mail exchange between us. What prompted my original e-mail to Pinto was that this year’s ballot has an exceptional number of borderline candidates, as opposed to having one or two sure inductees and many clearly unqualified ones, which seems to have been a more common pattern in recent years.
Rob Neyer has made a similar observation:
What's amazing about the current Hall of Fame ballot is how many viable candidates there are, candidates about whom we can argue.
Personally, I would vote for only six players on the ballot (I'll name them later). But I believe I might be wrong about five or six others, and there are still more candidates who have their rabid supporters, and wouldn't be among the most undeserving Hall of Famers if they were elected. There are 33 players on the ballot this time around, and 19 are viable candidates according to at least somebody's standards.
Those 19 players are Bert Blyleven, Gary Carter, Dave Concepcion, Andre Dawson, Steve Garvey, Rich Gossage, Keith Hernandez, Tommy John, Jim Kaat, Don Mattingly, Jack Morris, Dale Murphy, Eddie Murray, Dave Parker, Jim Rice, Ryne Sandberg, Lee Smith, Bruce Sutter, and Alan Trammell. Every one of those 19 players has a decent argument on either analytical premises or based on historical precedents (or both).
I think the current playing environment is distorting the current voting on two levels:
1) Due to the offensive explosion since the mid-1990s, the batting statistics of the current candidates seem superficially less impressive when compared to active players. Specifically, Gary Carter’s numbers – properly regarded as historic in his context – pale besides Mike Piazza’s, and don’t impress as much as they should when compared to Ivan Rodriguez or even Javier Lopez. Dale Murphy’s MVP numbers of the mid-1980s look pedestrian now. Same for Jim Rice; people have focused on his difficult relationship with sportswriters in attempting to explain why he hasn’t been elected, but I think the changed offensive climate is as responsible. (Analysts such as Bill James have pointed out that Rice was very overrated, but I don’t think that the BBWAA voters are using that argument. It’s a case of doing the right thing for the wrong reasons.) Had Eddie Murray not cleared 3,000 hits or 500 HRs, he may have had to wait a while for induction as well.
2) To a lesser extent, the increased concentration of saves in one pitcher and increased specialization of closers over the last 15 years has hurt the prior generation of great closers in the voting – both because the career leaderboards are rapidly being re-written, and that 35 saves isn’t nearly as big of a deal as it was 20 years ago. Examples include Gossage, Sutter, Dan Quisenberry and even Tom Henke.
In short, I would definitely vote for Blyleven, Carter, Gossage, Murray, Sandberg, Trammell, Kaat and John. I would probably vote for Dale Murphy as well, and one surprise candidate who’ll be described below. But there is no candidate out of the 19 listed above whose selection would be a travesty.
I’ve retained one of my original extended discussions, regarding Gossage and Sutter:

Rich Gossage and Bruce Sutter make for a fascinating joint discussion. They were probably the two most feared “firemen” of their time (the term “closer” not commonly used at that time). Gossage’s career was much longer, in part because he bounced around as a back-of-the-bullpen type for a decade after he was no longer an All-Star. And he wasn’t too bad, even in those years. (Contrast that with Steve Carlton’s last couple of years, for example.) Sutter’s career was basically wiped out by arm injuries approximately five minutes after signing a “lifetime” contract with the Atlanta Braves. Oops.
Under Win Shares, Sutter’s 1977 season ranks as barely better than Gossage’s best season (also 1977) by a 27 to 26 margin. Sutter and Gossage each had 3 seasons of over 20 Win Shares. Their primes basically overlapped, and I think it was generally accepted that Sutter was slightly better at their peaks. In the original edition of his Historical Baseball Abstract (published in 1986), Bill James ranked Sutter #1 among relievers for peak value, with Gossage #2. Part of that reputation is probably due to the fact that Sutter closed out four consecutive All-Star games during the time that the NL won every year, and made the American Leaguers look like a bunch of Little Leaguers in the process.
The story is often told about how Sutter’s second-half fades in 1977 and 1978 due to overwork inspired Cubs manager Herman Franks to restrict Sutter’s use to save situations, thus creating the modern “closer” role. I’m not sure if there’s more to the story than that, but if it is true, it may indicate Gossage’s superiority. Gossage pitched over 130 innings in relief 1975, 1977 and 1978 (not to mention 225 innings, along with 15 complete games, in 1976 in an ill-advised experiment as a starter) and was none the worse for wear. After an injury sustained in a famous fight with Cliff Johnson cut short his 1979 season, Gossage’s workload was more reasonable for the rest of his career, but his effectiveness did not seem to be compromised by extensive use the way Sutter’s was.
Based on durability and length of career, I’d pick Gossage over Sutter, and I’d feel comfortable voting Gossage to the Hall of Fame. But the question is whether Sutter qualifies as well. I’ve probably gone back-and-forth on Sutter more than any other candidate on the ballot. At the moment, I probably wouldn’t vote for him based on brevity of career. But I could easily go the other way. Was Bruce Sutter the Sandy Koufax of relievers – i.e., were his peak accomplishments of sufficient magnitude to outweigh his short career? The answer may be “yes.” Yes, I know closers are overrated (though that was less true when they pitched 100-130 innings as Sutter did, as opposed to today’s 65) But Sutter has a reasonable claim to being the best reliever of all time, judged on his peak. If a player can reasonably be called the best ever at his position – including closer - for any length of time, I don’t think we can complain if that player makes the Hall of Fame.
In fact, I just convinced myself. I’d vote for Sutter as well.