Why He Won
As one would expect, James Wolcott’s thoughts on the debate are great and he brings up something that I think may be the most important aspect of Edwards’s performance.
Like Bush last week, Cheney only fed the beast of the Republican “base.” He did nothing, less than nothing, to reach out to undecideds or swing voters or anyone who wasn’t already committed to the ticket. Edwards did. That’s why, despite some moments of shakiness and repetition and phony tough-guyism, Edwards won.
I listened to a few minutes of the debate on the radio live and then saw the whole thing later. One of the things that struck me in both instances was that Edwards consciously spoke to individual American’s everyday, real life concerns. Those things may not be particularly important at this point to the base of either party, but I think it may be very important to undecided voters.
You have to ask yourself why a voter is undecided at this point. If it were a matter of abstract political philosophy or “gut” feelings about character, there would be nothing to decide. The contrast between these two tickets is stark. What I think may be driving these undecideds is that they are looking for someone to speak to their personal concerns, show that they understand the way life is lived in America — to translate policy into real life solutions that they can wrap their arms around.
John Edwards is the only guy in the race with an easy, natural gift for speaking to that and I think he may have succeeded in bringing some of those people into the fold.
Wolcott also had the misfortune of seeing Dennis Miller embarrass himself on Jay Leno last night.
Afterwards, I watched Jay Leno, whose first guest was Dennis Miller, whose soul has sprouted tumors. He belted out the name of Bush’s campaign website, and said he was voting for the guy because Bush, man, he begins each day with one thing on his mind. He hops outta bed, “his two feet hit the floor, he scratches his balls, and says, ‘Let’s kill some fuckin’ terrorists.'” Dennis Miller not only sounds like Michael Savage, he’s beginning to look like him too, an oily stain possessing the power of speech.
And a vivid biker fantasy life, apparently. The “it’s hard work” boy wakes up every morning with his arms around his favorite pilly and screams for a cup ‘o cocoa.
You have to feel a little bit sorry for the cretin. He made a bad career move, casting his lot with the wingnuts because he got big laughs by making fun of Clinton and misinterpreted it as a shift in the cultural zeitgest. Big mistake. He’s stuck with bully insult humor and that has a very short shelf life. The former hipster is going to be forced to socialize for the rest of his life with nothing but boring, flaccid reactionaries who’s idea of fun is calling him “girlie-man” and saying he needs a haircut. That’s just sad.