Mere hours later, Jeb Bush endorsed Romney.

It appears Governor Romney has at last been anointed as the Republican nominee for president.

Let us, however, stop and pray for another outcome.

As I have mentioned in the past, I feel quite betrayed by the GOP of today, which has skewed so far from the Progressivism of my day that is nigh unrecognizable to me. Romney and Rick Santorum—and, I suppose, Newt Gingrich and Ron Paul!—are my rivals now that I am running as an independent candidate. I see each of them the same way I see President Obama: as obstacles to be overcome on my path to regaining the White House.

That having been said, America has a primary and caucus process for a reason: It allows candidates to be forged, honed, and tested before taking the stage in the general election.

Despite the necessity of this process—one that I have firsthand of experience of, albeit one hundred years ago!—the pundits, the public, and the press seem in a hurry to declare an uncontested frontrunner. The fear is that the contest will drag on all the to the Republican Convention in Tampa this August.

This is not August, however. It is only March, and Illinois has spoken. Romney may have won, but there is life left in his fellow contenders. And he is also still cracking gaffes, such as his latest, this Etch-A-Sketch kerfuffle (which, by the by, sent me to Wikipedia in order to learn what an Etch-A-Sketch is!).

My point being: With a candidate as mercurial as Romney, his rivals still have a prayer. Myself, I might add, included. Do not rush to write us off yet. Democracy must be allowed to take its course. And no one can predict what has yet to happen in this long campaign season.

My reappearance and entry into the race, after all, should be more than enough proof of that.

Also like Bartleby, I was forcibly removed from the place where I steadfastly held my position: Only in my case, that place was the White House.

The experience of being voted out of office after a single term was a crushing one. But it taught me a lesson I feel today’s Republican contenders would do well to learn—especially in the wake of yesterday’s Super Tuesday results.

That lesson: Keep your friends close, your enemies closer, and your party at arm’s length.

Allow me to clarify. Take, for the example, the presumed Republican nominee, Governor Romney. In his scramble to hew to the GOP’s increasingly intransigent stance on everything from health care to social issues, he has allowed himself to drift. He hems and haws and hedges. His opinions change with the tide. But worse than that, they seem to now be mired in a vague, nebulous fog of insipidness and indecision.

Romney won Ohio, my beloved home state, after yesterday’s Super Tuesday primary. It was the most essential state he needed to carry in the nationwide contest. But he won by the skin of his teet— whereas any potential nominee in his position of presumed, inevitable victory should have swept it. It isn’t because the GOP base disagrees with him. It’s not even that they don’t like him. It’s that they don’t know what he is, or whom there is to like. I believe Romney has solid views and character. Somewhere. It’s just that I have never seen them.

To employ a sports metaphor (my apologies, but I am, after all, the first president to have thrown out a pitch at a Major League game): Romney has aimed for the base but lost sight of the bleachers.

Now, I am not normally in the business of giving advice to my opponents. And I will admit to a lingering, bittersweet attachment to the GOP, the party I once led (even if I have a difficult time recognizing it in this day and age, hence my independent campaign in 2012). Honestly, I care not a whit about Romney’s political fortunes. But I do believe he would do best—for both the GOP and himself—if he began to solidify his platform. For as much as I hope to win in November, and as much as I disagree with so much of the GOP’s contemporary beliefs, I still wish to see President Obama defeated.

My wishes on the subject, of course, will be moot unless Romney steps up his game. And he can only do that by running as Mitt Romney first, an American second, and a Republican a distant third. I do not suggest he join me here in the independent dugout, excluded from most major media coverage (not to mention debates—they must fear my rhetorical acumen!). But unless he learns that he must find common ground with the electorate, rather than the GOP base only, his Super Tuesday victories in Ohio and elsewhere will be squandered come November. And the loser, more than anyone else, will be the American people, who will once again be led to believe that our glorious system of government is irreparably broken and partisan. Where in truth, our great democracy is as healthy at its core as it ever was, if only we choose to exercise our hearts and wills as freethinking, independent individuals.

I do not say all this from a position of superiority, rancor, or envy. Only from a position of—having a position.

Some have asked after my prediction for Super Tuesday. Will Governor Romney sweep all contests before him? Will Senator Santorum steal some of Romney’s thunder in key states such as my own fair Ohio, this giving him fuel to prolong his insurgency against the establishment? Will Speaker Gingrich or Congressman Paul snatch some small surprise victory from the gaping maw of defeat before them? I will not wager a guess. After all, a man from a century ago is the last person one should ask to prognosticate about the future!

In any case, my choice to run as an independent candidate in 2012—rather than as a member of my former party, the GOP—means I have less invested in Super Tuesday than my Republican opponents. Surely the outcome will help determine the course of the race for all of us, President Obama included. But my heart has been cleft in twain by this sad, bedraggled tatterdemalion that once was my beloved GOP. So instead of making predictions, I shall instead let America know what I only wish the Republican Party might evolve into in the future (bearing in mind the irony that during my day, it was a beacon of Progress!):

-A GOP that will not view pragmatism, moderation, or compromise as signs of weakness or a lack of expediency.

-A GOP that will not allow women—or any group within the American populace—to be bullied, defamed, or granted anything less than full respect and rights in the eyes of society and the law.

-A GOP that will not view the lawful Separation of Church and State to be a war on religion, even as it allows certain factions of the party to wage its own such wars.

-A GOP that will not fear the vital and essential enlightenment of Science.

-A GOP that will not sanctimoniously preach fiscal restraint while allowing corporations and the wealthy to evade their fair responsibilities.

-A GOP that will not fail to recognize that the bettering of the least fortunate Americans is a benefit to all—even those who need no bettering.

-A GOP that will not anoint itself the champion of that most hallowed of our nation’s blueprints, the Constitution, without honoring it fully and consistently.

-A GOP that will not seek to cripple the very apparatus it seeks to control: the checked, balanced, and gloriously democratic Government of the United States as outlined by our Founding Fathers.

To reiterate, this is mere wish-making on my part. I chose to abdicate my membership and any position of eminence I may have still possessed in the bankrupt, backward institution that is the GOP. On this grand day of primaries, caucuses, candidates, and delegates, he future of the party is not up to me. It is up to you, dear Super Tuesday voter. I pray you will elect to make that future bright.

This was a different country one hundred years ago. When I originally held the Highest Office in the Land, women had yet to establish suffrage. Granted, the Nineteenth Amendment to the Constitution—which at last guaranteed women the right to vote—was a mere handful of years away from being passed when I left office in 1913.

Of course, the vote is not the issue today. We take women’s suffrage as a given—as we no doubt should have all along. I am a Progressive, and I take pride in America’s progress. But that progress does not always come as swiftly as our conscience demands. Especially in regard to one of today’s most looming issues in regard to women’s rights: reproductive choice.

The attacks on reproductive choice—both contraception and abortion—have been fervent of late. Granted, I have been asleep for a century, so my knowledge of the current situation had to come from books, colleagues, and the Internet. But it seems to be that this issue was decided by the Supreme Court, definitively, forty years ago.

Allow me to make my position clear: Should the American people grant me the honor of a second term as President this November, I will uphold Roe v. Wade. Furthermore, I will defend it passionately against all those who would seek to curtail it. For I am not only a Progressive—I am a lifelong Unitarian, and my faith clearly lays out its historical support for a woman’s right to choose.

For me, however, this is more than an issue of legislation, ideology, or religion. It is about, as I mentioned above, conscience. I once belonged to the Republican Party, and I am aware that the GOP no longer champions the cause of progress, as it did in my day. Hence my independent candidacy. We must each, in our hearts, be independent. Granted, we must weigh our beliefs against the counterbalance of society as a whole, but ultimately, our own conscience must dictate the course of our moral current.

In that light, the issue becomes simple. A woman’s body is her own. I would not ask her to surrender to that sovereignty any more than I would ask her to dial back the clock a hundred years and relinquish her right to vote.

This stance may not make me popular among certain segments of my following. So be it. I have been chastised for my inclusive faith and progressive beliefs before. The cause of progress is larger than me, or any one of us. And it is certainly larger than those certain stunted souls who would forge fresh chains for the woman of America.

It has not been easy adapting to these innovations. In all honesty, I count characters about as well as I count calories.

In fact, these limitations placed on my natural verbosity leads me to write this very blog post—a response to a follower on Facebook named Emily who asked me (and I quote): “I gather we’re supposed to vote Democrat this year?”

This comment was left below a recent Facebook update of mine, one in which I had been critical of Rick Santorum. Many of my updates and tweets, in truth, have been critical of Rick Santorum. And Mitt Romney. And Ron Paul. And Newt Gingrich. And also those who have dropped out of the Republican race entirely in the preceding months.

I have, of course, also criticized President Barack Obama on occasion. Not as often, however, I admit. Apparently the fact that I have been leveling the brunt of my ire against the GOP hopefuls—members of the party to which I myself belonged, before deciding to run as an independent candidate in 2012—has been construed as some sort of endorsement of President Obama.

Perish the thought.

To clarify where I stand: I am an independent candidate. As such, I agree with a great many things the GOP stands for. I also agree with a great many things the Democrats stand for (President Obama included). It must be remembered that in my time, I was both a Republican and a Progressive. Back then, the two were not mutually exclusive. I believe they should not be mutually exclusive now. Indeed, it is only by rejecting demagoguery in favor of compassion and pragmatism that America will rise once again to its full resplendence.

It is also worth bearing in mind that, at this point in the election cycle, I have five opponents: all four GOP contenders and the President. I believe I find equal fault in all five. However, I will admit that I hold the likes of Romney and Santorum to a different standard than I do Obama (or any Democrat). After all, Romney and Santorum are Republicans. Or at least they call themselves such. I once led their party. And it pains me to the quick that they propagate such a regressive, distorted vision of that Grand Old Party I once helped usher into the future.

I must also confess that I have become increasingly angered by the uncouth, ignorant, and frankly childish behavior of the GOP throughout this contest. Regardless of one’s ideology, it must be admitted that President Obama—in the face of so much rancor and divisiveness—has maintained his empathy and dignity. For that I admire him, even as I aim to best him come November.

There is another thing. Seeing as how I am the only current presidential candidate (besides Mr. Obama, of course) who has held that high office, I feel a brotherhood with him. He and I are of the same fraternity. Much as you see all surviving U.S. Presidents interact warmly and with mutual respect, so do I respect the trials and tribulations Mr. Obama faces on a daily basis—trials and tribulations that, out of the current field of candidates, only he and I truly know.

So, to answer your very fair and insightful question, Emily: No, I am not asking anyone to vote Democrat. I am asking them to vote their conscience. And I pray that conscience will lead them to vote neither left nor right, neither Democrat nor Republican, but rather freely and independently.

In other words: to vote for Taft in 2012.

Am I jealous?

Absolutely.

I am jealous that Governor Romney has chosen to take unfair advantage of his inheritance. He was born the son of a presidential contender. He has been conditioned since boyhood to take this path. And along the way, he has never wanted for a thing in his life.

I am jealous of these things because I, like Mr. Romney, was born into a position of privilege. Yet I never took anything that I didn’t earn, nor did I ever lose touch with what the common American—with a singularly uncommon spirit—has yearned for and aspired to.

The common American is now under attack from both sides of the aisle. Democrats blunder and flounder, hobbling the onward march of commerce and industry as much as conscientiously curtailing it. And my own former party, the GOP, accuses all who demand that the rich pay their fair share of taxes to be, categorically, jealous.

The American people are not a jealous breed. We demand only justice. Fairness. Equality.

Governor Romney has never gone hungry. Or homeless. Or hopeless. He has never had to rub two bits together, trying to figure out how to stretch them to the last penny.

To be fair, neither have I. But unlike him, I don’t look down on those who demand justice, fairness, and equality—and see only jealousy. I see an engine of American hope and vitality, just idling, waiting to roar to life again.

But you have to pay into that engine, or else it will not run. As your president, I will pay. And I will ensure that all Americans do so—no more, and no less, than their fair share.

Unlike Two-Bit Mitt.

Even in my day, of course, travel beyond our atmosphere was being speculated upon. Everyone from Jules Verne to Percival Lowell to Edgar Rice Burroughs wrote of it. (In regard to the last: Yes, I will confess—I had a guilty fondness for the pulps.)

It did not surprise me, upon my awakening in the 21st century, that Americans had set foot upon the Moon during my absence. Even a century ago, it seemed among the enlightened to be an inevitability.

It does surprise me, however, that Gingrich now speaks of such outlandishness.

America does need hope. It does need purpose. It does need aspirations toward bigger things. But unless Gingrich plans on sending the homeless and foreclosed-upon to live on his Moon-base, I don’t see how it will provide any real solutions.

On one hand, Gingrich speaks of reducing the influence of government. On the other, he wants that influence to extend to the stars. At the cost of billions—and to the neglect of the dire situation here on terra firma.

While I was in office, my fellow Ohioans the Wright Brothers were still perfecting their flying machines. Our nation has come so far since then, and for that I am proud. But if my opponent thinks he can inflate his own sense of grandiosity by draining this nation’s wealth, he may want to think again. For the commonsense electorate—the solid, sensible citizens of Earth—will not stand for it.

From my recent studies regarding the science of the century I missed, I have come to understand this: In that airless void between the Earth and the Moon, gravity does not prevail—that is, objects float through empty space as if they have no mass.

I fear Gingrich’s thoughts are floating in exactly such a void.

Sadly, I have come to understand that, in this 21st century, New Mexico is considered by many on the coasts to be a “flyover state.” Obviously, the term had no currency during my term in office, with Kitty Hawk still a fresh memory. Now, I understand that the term isn’t always meant derogatorily. But recently, another state has been lumped into this category with the most dismissive of intentions.

I speak, of course, of Iowa.

I will admit, the Republican caucus in Iowa earlier this week was a frustrating experience for me. I was, after all, once the leader of the Republican Party. I know all too well what a messy affair the nomination process can be. And the winners of the caucus (if I may be so presumptuous to declare it a tie), Mitt Romney and Rick Santorum, are my opponents, ones I plan on defeating as the Taft Party candidate. One thing struck me, though, as the national media—based mostly on the East Coast, of course—descended on the Iowa to report on the caucus’ proceedings: the condescending tone with which Iowa itself was spoken of.

Do not take me the wrong way. I am not of the mind that there is such a thing as the “media elite.” I value and respect our free press, and I celebrate it as the essential component of democracy that it unarguably is. However, many pundits have slung much slander in regard to the state of Iowa—often while sitting there, a welcome guest in that very place! It has been called, at best, a poor indicator of the political mood of the country. At worse, the great people of Iowa have been accused, implicitly or explicitly, of being ignorant and of poor moral fiber—and unworthy of the responsibility of hosting the nation’s premier caucus.

If have news for all these scoffing libelers: Iowa is the United States. You may fly over it in the course of your travels, looking down your nose as you pass, landing there but once every four years to sample its indomitable hospitality. But the people who live and work there do not constitute some blob of generic, homogenous electorate. They are individuals who vote their conscience. Just like you. And just like anyone you deem more “qualified” to have a say in the course of this country.

Of course, every state considered today to be “flyover country” is noble and noteworthy in its own way. One such state that immediately springs to mind: my home of Ohio. It is a beautiful state, both industrious and enlightened, and one whose sensibilities helped shape my bedrock notions of justice, thrift, and moderation (that is to say, as long as the dinner table is not concerned!). And yet, as I have come to learn, its vital position as a bellwether in national elections—to the point where many in politics claim to win Ohio is to win the White House—has often drawn scrutiny and scorn from those on the Coasts.

Ohio is not perfect. The recent passage—and subsequent recall—of the state’s disastrous anti-union bill is a prime example. Although, I must proudly admit, that the recall itself exemplifies the self-corrective functions of democracy, an inalienable right I’m proud to say my fellow Ohioans are unafraid to exercise.

Which only reinforces my point: To determine the state of our great Union, look no further than the states of the Union. New Mexico, Iowa, Ohio, all of them. For it is within these states that the American people dwell—and it is each American’s vote, individually and equally, that truly determines the course of this great nation. From sea to shining sea—and everywhere in between.

Allow me to clear the air.

As the article maintains, my first term as President a century ago was overshadowed by that of my predecessor, Teddy Roosevelt. And Mr. Obama has been channeling Roosevelt of late, even likening himself to TR in a recent speech in Osawatomie, Kansas. The speech was designed to echo the one TR gave 101 years ago, and it was a neat bit of vaudeville on the part of the President.

But for Politico to attempt to besmirch Mr. Obama by comparing him to me rather than Roosevelt… Why, it goes too far.

The article’s author, one Mr. Eric Rauchway, argues thinly that I rolled back the progressive gains TR made before me. I will admit, Teddy and I had our differences. Once I took office in 1909, I found things were not as cut and dried as he had viewed them. I sought balance, and I looked for way to appease and find common ground between both sides of many issues. This includes labor and industry; conservation and development; conservative and progressive. These differences between TR and I, of course, led to his running against me as the candidate of the Bull Moose Party in 1912.

But what did that accomplish? We split the Republican vote, and he and I both lost.

I won’t deny, as Rauchway states in his article, that I “did no rhetorical smiting” while in the White House. That was not my way then. It is not my way now. For every raging, forceful bully of a President like Roosevelt—not to downplay his many achievements, nor the debt I owe him for thrusting me into national politics—we need a mediator. A moderator. A man of reason, even temperament, and plain sense.

In many ways and despite his many flaws, Mr. Obama is this kind of man. But he lacks the hindsight and hard-earned wisdom that I bring to the table—and that I will bring to the Oval Office, should the good people of this country continue to rally behind the Taft Party.

But I am not here to defend my legacy. I’ve made my fair share of mistakes, yes. Any President who claims otherwise is a liar. I am here to say: This is all old news. Why are Mr. Rauchway and Mr. Obama and the rest of us talking about what happened a century ago? Is it my reappearance and campaign that has stirred up this unwholesome fixation on the past? These are different times. What TR and I did back then—while making for provocative talk and tawdry headlines—does not pertain to the issues that we face today.

And neither am I the politician I was then. I have seen much and talked extensively since my return. I have been strengthened and renewed by what I have learned. I have more of a focus on America’s future, ironically enough, than those who were born in it.

I am not a relic of yesterday. I am a man of today. And I am a leader for tomorrow.

So let us all—and journalists and pundits in particular—take our eyes off the past and get down to the Taft at hand.

As so many of you know, I enjoy history. I am, after all, considered a part of it (although it’s a little disconcerting, I must admit, to read about oneself in the past tense). Lately I’ve been reading a great work of history, President John F. Kennedy’s Profiles in Courage.

There’s a lesson to be learned from it.

Of course, I was originally attracted to the book because it features my son, Senator Robert Taft, and his political accomplishments that I wasn’t around to see (due to my hundred-year, ahem, hiatus).

But as I read more deeply about the heroism of the senators Kennedy wrote about—many of whom were alive in my own time—it dawned on me how little of that heroism can be seen today in the political arena.

As many of you know, I enjoy food. But I am trying to eat more sensibly. One sensible food I cannot stomach, however, is cabbage. It is an insipid vegetable, shapeless when cooked, with a strong odor yet little taste.

Today, we have no profiles in courage. We have only profiles in cabbage.

For proof, look no further than the current crop of presidential contenders. We have hypocrites like Gingrich. Dilettantes like Cain. Imbeciles like Perry.

(Pardon the strength of my language. As I have mentioned in previous missives, this is my former party, the GOP, and it pains me to the quick to see it so degraded.)

And then we have the supposed Republican frontrunner, Mitt Romney. Profiles in Courage exalts the bravery and integrity of men like Daniel Webster and Sam Houston. I don’t always agree with the actions they took while in office. But they risked all for the sake of their convictions. Romney has no such bravery, no such integrity, no such conviction.

This man who would be nominee—who would be president!—has wavered on the issues with an alarming regularity. In fact, you could set your watch by his waffling.

Men like Kennedy, and those he wrote of in Profiles of Courage, regardless of affiliation, stood firm in the face of adversity. They had that titular courage. Romney’s convictions and character, on the other hand, seem to blow like leaves in the wind.

Leaves of cabbage, that is.