Flame Out

Perhaps the end of this blog inspires me to speak, but I can’t resist a little political candor.

Up to now, I’ve avoided politics, and when I couldn’t resist weighing in, I’ve weighed both sides, criticized both sides, and generally remained what has become my favorite word, circumspect. I’ve tried to say something hopeful.  Today, however, I can’t resist giving in to my political despair.  Another election determined by imagery and performance?  Please, no.

McCain’s lead in the polls horrifies me.  I’m not sure I can survive one more triumph of style over substance.

I keep slipping into the thought that maybe we deserve him. Maybe a nation that can’t understand complex issues or ignores policy in favor of whims deserves the terrible leaders it gets.  Maybe a nation that prefers a clear narrative—any narrative—to deliberation and discernment gets its just reward.  Maybe we, and not our leaders, deserve credit for the latest failure of this great American experiment in democracy.  What would our founders think?  Thomas Jefferson could not have expected such sheep.

In its appraisal of Sarah Palin talking to Charles Gibson, Slate wrote:

It was painfully obvious—from the rote nature of her responses, the repetition of hammered-home phrases, and the non sequiturs that leapt up when she found herself led around an unfamiliar bend—that there is not a millimeter of depth undergirding those recitations, that she had never given a moment’s thought to these matters before two weeks ago.

More favorable accounts of her performance make her out to be a high school student defending a master’s thesis.  We are supposed to like her for making the effort, for being vehement and well-briefed on what Gibson might ask and how to answer.  But should this pop star—I don’t know how else to describe her—get credit simply for  performing well? If one half-step off the path leads her into empty talking points, if her performance evidences flair but little or no understanding, is that a reason to praise her?

But that’s only what I ask.  Others see a straight-shooting tough cookie where I see someone stringing clichés like informercials.  Others praise McCain for his maverick choice, calling it political genius.  I suppose it might be.  Thus far, he certainly seems to found something for us to buzz over now that Batman and the audacity of hope is stale.  Never mind we’ve reached crises that require real genius, not pandering.

We’ve had our head turned.  Even worse, somehow we think that’s a good thing.

When John McCain condemns Obama for voting the same way he did in the senate, he relies on our ignorance.  When the oldest presidential nominee in history chooses a diversionary, patently unqualified running mate, he relies on our superficiality.  When Karl Rove uses the same attributes to slam others and praise Palin, he hopes for amnesia.

Are we really going to justify those hopes?

I keep hearing people say they have a good feeling about John McCain and Sarah Palin, that they seem people they’d like.  In person, maybe I’d like them too, but I have many close friends I like more who I’d never think of electing. I know better than to rely on feelings.

Okay, maybe Obama bears guilt for some image-mongering too, but he at least seems to have a higher opinion of us.  At least he acknowledges the complexity of the challenges we face and resists the appeal of a ready, drum-thumping answer.  He hangs onto the hope we can still use our brains and tell wax from flesh, flash from light.