I deliberately missed El-bama’s speech. And Hitlery’s, and Bubba’s, and Algore’s. I missed ‘em all. I live in a house in South Florida without air conditioning. It’s August, so I get all the hot air I want.
Was a time when delegates traveled to these conventions where they’d wheel and deal late into the night over rotgut and cigars to select their candidate. It wasn’t a pony show or a beauty contest, it was the people’s bidness. Now it’s a damn anointment, a coronation. The sole source of suspense is guessing the color of somebody’s pants suit.
Commentators this morning who complain that Obama’s speech is “short on specifics” miss the point. That’s not what these speeches are all about: if they were, America would grab the remote and switch to the cleavage channel. You want details, you want to know how he’s gonna do what he says needs to be done, you can find them on his website, in his wonkish position papers, on his campaign brochures, etc. Have you even looked? Of course not. They’re brain-deadingly dull, and frankly, you don’t really know what you’re reading anyway.
Now it’s all about “framing” your opponent; positioning him as something undesirable for any reason at all, based on emotion and gut prejudice, to scare voters off and redirect them your way. He’s a half-breed Marxist Muslim. He’s a war-mongering senile old fart. He lets his own brother eat dirt for dinner in Africa. He ran around on his injured wife and dumped her for a zillionaire.
Who gives a ferret’s fanny about reducing the deficit, ending the war, or ending our dependence on terrorists’ oil? Who really thinks these shallow grandstanding ego trippers are “role models” whose “character matters?” That’s not teevee speech material, fans. Let’s whip out the weenies and piddle on each others’ sandals.
And stay tuned for more of the same next week.