John McCain and his Imaginary Friend
Some people love her enough to overlook any possible faults. Some people hate her enough to make up lies. All of them are right. Because none of us are talking about the actual Governor of Alaska. All of us--with the exception of, oh, Alaskans--are talking about the imaginary figure we've created, as a kind of place holder, until we really get to know her.
If and when we can ever truly reconcile our vision of the governor with her reality, I mean.
There was a time that first impressions didn't hold a lot of worth. But when McCain introduced a virtually unknown governor in her 18th month in office as his running mate, he forced Americans into a whiplash-worthy first impression.
It's one we may not recover from in time. Because it takes more than two weeks to get to know a real person. It takes more than two months.
But that's all he gave us. He introduced her with only sixty days to go in one of the most important presidential races in history.
Normally I dislike using sports metaphors in politics. They encourage us to cheer for "our" team and boo the "other" team, instead of reminding us that we are all supposed to be on the same team, Team America, no matter which party is in the White House or Congress. But this time, I will use one.
The McCain campaign, by introducing a relative newcomer with only two months to go in the election, is running down the clock.
People who ask in-depth questions of his VP choice are called "condescending." People who defend themselves by calling her lies lies are called "discourteous." The press is told that she will not give interviews until they are prepared to treat her with "respect and deference"--a demand, by the way, unprecedented in American politics. In the meantime, the airwaves are full of trivia (she likes mooseburgers!) and lies (she wanted to ban books!) and attempts at truths (she really was for the Bridge to Nowhere before she was against it, and she sold the jet at a loss). And every day of that is a day we didn't discuss the economy, the wars, the housing crisis, or the Constitution.
In the meantime, there really does exist a governor of both the largest state of the union (in landmass) and the smallest state in the union (in population, depending on the season). She's fairly popular there. But we're too busy being distracted by the Anna Nicole Smith / Michael Jackson / Britney Spears feeding frenzy (by the way, you don't know them either) to focus on reality.
Instead of me presuming to tell you the reality, let me ask you about it:
Think about someone, or everyone, you've met and instantly fell in love with. Were they the same prson two months, much less two years later?
Would you recommend marrying someone you'd never heard of two months before? Why or Why not?
Finally--and this is very important. What's the name of that guy running to be President of the United States on the Republican ticket? No, not Barack Obama. We've had almost two years to get to know him, sure, but I'm talking about the Republican ticket. The guy we've known even longer. Yes, that's it. John McCain!
The one hiding behind his imaginary friend.
If and when we can ever truly reconcile our vision of the governor with her reality, I mean.
There was a time that first impressions didn't hold a lot of worth. But when McCain introduced a virtually unknown governor in her 18th month in office as his running mate, he forced Americans into a whiplash-worthy first impression.
It's one we may not recover from in time. Because it takes more than two weeks to get to know a real person. It takes more than two months.
But that's all he gave us. He introduced her with only sixty days to go in one of the most important presidential races in history.
Normally I dislike using sports metaphors in politics. They encourage us to cheer for "our" team and boo the "other" team, instead of reminding us that we are all supposed to be on the same team, Team America, no matter which party is in the White House or Congress. But this time, I will use one.
The McCain campaign, by introducing a relative newcomer with only two months to go in the election, is running down the clock.
People who ask in-depth questions of his VP choice are called "condescending." People who defend themselves by calling her lies lies are called "discourteous." The press is told that she will not give interviews until they are prepared to treat her with "respect and deference"--a demand, by the way, unprecedented in American politics. In the meantime, the airwaves are full of trivia (she likes mooseburgers!) and lies (she wanted to ban books!) and attempts at truths (she really was for the Bridge to Nowhere before she was against it, and she sold the jet at a loss). And every day of that is a day we didn't discuss the economy, the wars, the housing crisis, or the Constitution.
In the meantime, there really does exist a governor of both the largest state of the union (in landmass) and the smallest state in the union (in population, depending on the season). She's fairly popular there. But we're too busy being distracted by the Anna Nicole Smith / Michael Jackson / Britney Spears feeding frenzy (by the way, you don't know them either) to focus on reality.
Instead of me presuming to tell you the reality, let me ask you about it:
Think about someone, or everyone, you've met and instantly fell in love with. Were they the same prson two months, much less two years later?
Would you recommend marrying someone you'd never heard of two months before? Why or Why not?
Finally--and this is very important. What's the name of that guy running to be President of the United States on the Republican ticket? No, not Barack Obama. We've had almost two years to get to know him, sure, but I'm talking about the Republican ticket. The guy we've known even longer. Yes, that's it. John McCain!
The one hiding behind his imaginary friend.
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