Now that the focus of the budget battle is turning to the personality of Sen. Ted Crux (R-TX) and we’re finding out all the dish about him as a student at Princeton and Harvard — he wandered the dorm halls at Princeton in a paisley bathrobe and wouldn’t associate with people from “lesser ivies” at Harvard — I’m reminded of a basic law of political physics: no one gets this far this fast as a freshman senator without being extraordinarily gifted in attracting attention to yourself by one of two methods.

You are either so charismatic, charming, and ingratiating that people naturally gravitate to you and give you Q ratings off the chart with the Beltway Villagers and thereby the media (see Kennedy, John F. or Obama, Barack), or you’re so obnoxious, arrogant, and pushy that the insiders hate you and the base loves you (see Cruz, Ted, and Bachmann, Michele).

The first method has been proven to be more successful in the long run.  The second one resembles more the course of a Roman candle: a big splashy and fiery start, but ending up as a burnt-out stump.