In the End, His Own Invective Betrays the Real Bob Dornan

It was well past midnight for Bob Dornan, and if you want to take that as a political metaphor, feel free. He was in a hallway at a Newport Beach hotel early Wednesday morning where local and state Republicans were trying to figure out why they had such a bad election night. Most were philosophical about it, but not the red-haired man in the hallway.

Talking to a TV reporter, his wife at his side, Dornan cared mostly why he had such a bad night. And, to him, the answer was obvious. Wherever he looked, people had betrayed him.

The complete list of scoundrels who in one way or another have sold out Bob Dornan--according to Bob Dornan--is too lengthy to mention here. Off the top of his head, though, names would include leaders of the national Republican Party, Orange County congressmen Chris Cox and Dana Rohrabacher, former Orange County political allies like John Lewis, local Republican politicos like the Lincoln Club, and Republican members of the U.S. Congress who investigated his voter fraud allegations.

If that many supposed friends betrayed me, I’d probably ask myself why.

Dornan won’t bother himself with such questions.

“Bob Dornan blames everyone but himself,” said Lisa Hughes, among those who lost to Dornan in the GOP primary in June. “He has a narcissistic point of view where the world revolves around Bob Dornan. If you don’t fit into Bob’s scheme of priorities, you’re evil. And he’s not concerned about whether his actions will reflect on his fellow Republicans, because it’s Bob, first, last and always.”

Hughes recalled that after he beat her in the primary, she telephoned him the next morning with congratulations. “He told me I was the first person who ran against him who had ever called to congratulate him.” That morning, she told a reporter she’d support Dornan in his race against Loretta Sanchez.

Twenty-four hours later, angered by her campaign mailers, “Dornan was attempting to have me censured by the Republican Party ethics committee,” Hughes said.

Dornan told supporters after his loss to Sanchez that he was going to be “a man unfettered by political restraint.” I doubt that anyone other than Dornan has ever considered him to be fettered by anything.

And, newly unfettered, he spoke long past his allotted time Tuesday night, inadvertently igniting a shoving match between his family members and disgruntled Matt Fong supporters, who wanted to hear from their man.

In the Dornan world view, there would be no point in listening to Matt Fong when you could listen to Bob Dornan.

Moments like that illustrate why Dornan may go down in history as nothing more than another loud, opinionated congressman, the worst kind of parody of a Sen. Bluster.

In a way, that’s a pity because in his best moments, he’s comical and impassioned. In his worst, however, he’s self-righteous and mean, perfectly willing to float a rumor rather than keep it to himself.

He’s a learned man who also fancies himself a Christian gentleman, not seeming to notice that a true Christian gentleman’s language doesn’t make others cringe.

“Evil is winning across the land tonight, but Christian is spoken here in this room,” he told supporters on election night. “Clinton is a degenerate. What kind of lawless party circles its wagons around a degenerate multiple adulterer serial liar?”

And then he wonders why people don’t respond to the Christian gentleman in him.

Jerry Patterson played a role in Dornan’s rise to local prominence. It was Patterson’s congressional seat that Dornan first won in 1984.

“Same old Bob,” Patterson said Wednesday, “He continues to blame others. He continues to be a whine baby. I saw him on TV when he said he’d never concede. He was buried last night by thousands of votes, so he can’t continue that tack of trying to say the election was stolen from him. I think Sanchez did him and Orange County a big favor by beating him twice, because I don’t think he’ll run again.”

As with many Dornan foes (and others who have betrayed him), Patterson said Dornan’s worst enemy is himself. “He’s still the same, he’s in love with himself. The fact is, he’s become just an embarrassment to everyone in Orange County, even conservative Republicans who have come to a point where they can do without him and say goodbye to Bob.”

Because Dornan was made for contemporary talk TV and radio, he’ll hang around.

He threw down the gauntlet to Rush Limbaugh (another betrayer?) Tuesday night, telling the audience he drew better ratings than Limbaugh when he subbed for him. He also hinted he might run against (the betrayer) Rohrabacher in the 2000 primary.

Plato, from whom Dornan probably has quoted at some point, once wrote that the unexamined life isn’t worth living. As he rails at all those around him, Dornan might well ask why so many allies have abandoned him and so few enemies respect him.

Likely, he won’t. He’s better at alerting us, as he did Tuesday night, to “the fog of evil that has rolled across our country . . . “

History shows there are always people eager to listen to stuff like that. To them, the country is in a perpetual state of falling apart.

Self-appointed protector Bob Dornan will never let that happen. Nor will he give in to the notion that his career has been anything but valiant.

Invoking the image of Mel Gibson in “Braveheart,” an unflinching Dornan said this on the night that no doubt marked the end of his political career:

“Every man dies--well, let me de-genderize that--every man and woman dies! We are all terminal. But not every man or woman lives! I have lived!”

Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons by calling (714) 966-7821 or by writing to him at the Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or by e-mail to dana.parsons@latimes.com