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McCain’s concession symbolizes the passing of many torches,
not the least of which is the completion of the most historic screwing over in
modern American politics. Consider the evidence:
- In the
2000 South Carolina
primary, George W. Bush’s campaign conducted push polling
suggesting that McCain had fathered an illegitimate black child. Bush won
the state, halting McCain’s momentum from a win in New Hampshire and effectively ending
his bid.
- One they
reached the White House, the Bush Administration orchestrated a systematic
effort to overload the executive branch with authority, doing its best to
marginalize Congress—McCain’s milieu—and requiring absolute fealty from
Republican lawmakers.
- In
March 2003, Bush launched a war that most Republicans—and many Democrats—were
politically compelled to support. That war became deeply unpopular.
- Bush’s
plummeting popularity was instrumental to the Democrats’ takeover of both
houses of Congress in 2006, further marginalizing McCain in the Senate.
- Bush
left the nation deeply dissatisfied with Republicans and hungry for an
alternative. It was that country in which McCain had to run for
president.
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John McCain and his staff spent the last night of the campaign at the Biltmore Hotel in Phoenix. But early Tuesday afternoon, the biggest McCain booster in the place appears to a 13-year-old boy.
“The reason I disapprove of Obama is his liberal economics,” says Conor O’Connell, decked out in an oversize McCain T-shirt covered in buttons. “He taxes the rich. But in his definition, that’s everyone with a job.”
O’Connell is holding court in the hotel lobby, where members of Sarah Palin’s family are fawning over him. He goes to school in Phoenix—he’s a seventh-grader at Desert Arroyo Middle School—but he’s taking the day off after begging his dad to let him attend the McCain rally. “He’ll never have another chance like this,” says his father, Sean.
O’Connell says he supports John McCain for all sorts of reasons, chief among them oil. “Of course I totally support alternative energy,” he says. “But if we have oil, why don’t we use it before we go spend a billion dollars on research for other things?” O’Connell says his two biggest influences are his dad, a consultant and small-business owner who makes no secret of his distaste for regulation, and Ms. Kratzke, his social studies teacher.
The rest of his information comes from Fox News. “I do agree that it’s very Republican, but they give you both sides of the story,” he says. The rest of the media? Not so much. “When McCain and Palin make a mistake, the liberal media is on them like that,” he says. “But when Obama and Biden do it, no one cares. It’s so corrupt.”
Eventually, O’Connell sees himself going into politics, “probably as a congressman or senator or governor.” I ask him what drives him. “I just want to be for the people,” he says. “I just want to go out there and change things.” He says he wishes he could run now—unfortunately, few states allow 13-year-olds to hold public office. So “McCain is doing it for me,” he says, laughing. But he points out that the youngest mayor in America is 19 years old.
He already has a head start. In elementary school, O’Connell was vice president and treasurer of his class. He wanted to be president, but he lost—a tough early dose of reality. (His little sister, now in fifth grade, occupies his old seat.) But he has since recovered. This fall, his school held a mock presidential election. He won on a platform of fast food for everyone. “I wasn’t talking about McDonald’s,” he reassures me. “I said we want Panda Express and Rubio. … The fast food I’m talking about was healthy.” It wasn’t an easy victory. He ran against one of his best friends, Justin. “Of course this didn’t separate our friendship at all.” From that experience, O’Connell says he learned the value of knowing your constituents. “I listened to what the kids wanted,” he said. “I related to them.”
O’Connell tells me he didn’t run for student government this year because they don’t have any actual power. “I don’t want to take shots at them, but they don’t really get to change anything,” he says. Instead, he’s currently spearheading the creation of a school senate. If successful, he thinks it’s only fair that he would be “supreme senator.” “ ‘Students First’ is my motto,” he says, playing off McCain’s slogan. Not everyone is happy with the senate plan, particularly members of the pre-existing student government. “They call it ‘high treason’ or whatever,” he says. “I just want to get students involved.”
For now, O’Connell is following the No. 1 rule of campaigning: Reach out to your friends and neighbors. “I do influence my peers as far as supporting John McCain.” As we’re talking, several adults passing by comment on how articulate he is. “You’re the smartest kid I’ve ever met,” says one guy in a McCain hat. Connor agrees that most kids his age could learn a few things. “I don’t want to be like I’m all that,” says Connor. “I’d just like to educate them more.”
Later, O’Connell came outside to meet members of the McCain communications team. There, he shared his views on immigration and drilling and assured them that most of his classmates were McCain supporters. Michael Goldfarb, who writes the official McCain blog, seemed cheered. “I think we’re gonna win the youth vote in 2012,” he said. “I can feel it.”
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John McCain capped off his seven-day marathon Monday night with a midnight rally in Prescott, Ariz., the town where Barry Goldwater launched his Senate and presidential campaigns.
After 26 straight hours of campaigning, McCain kept it brief. “We’re gonna win tomorrow,” he said. “And we’re gonna be this …” he paused, catching himself. “We’re gonna bring this home.” He stood at the base of the Yavapai County Court House steps with the biggest American flag I’ve ever seen hanging behind him.
They have a joke in Arizona, he said: that it’s the only state where mothers don’t tell their kids they can grow up to be president, after Barry Goldwater and so many others failed. “Tomorrow, we’re gonna reverse that tradition, and I’m gonna be president of the United States.”
He told a few anecdotes, including one favorite about a woman in Wolfeboro, N.H., who begged him not to let her son’s death be in vain. He promised, as usual, to put country first. During the quiet moments, you could hear a crowd of Obama supporters chanting their candidate’s name.
At the end of an epic campaign like this, it’s hard not to get emotional. When Cindy introduced him, her voice cracked on “my husband, John McCain.” Even McCain seemed to be getting misty. Instead of closing his speech with his trademark entreaty to “fight” and “stand up,” he simply thanked everyone who came out. “It’s great to be home,” he said.
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Candidates love to tell crowds that they know they’ll win a state by the energy in the room. Of course there’s energy in the room, genius—these are the die-hard fans. It’s the people who didn’t show up that matter.
But at McCain’s midnight rally in Miami last night, he could be forgiven for being optimistic. Before McCain entered, a band and dance group had been performing the only salsa song I’ve ever heard about John McCain. “Dónde esta McCain?” the singer asked over and over. “En nuestra corazón.” (This was 10 times better than that “Drill Here, Drill Now” song.) When McCain finally came onstage, the response was Obama-esque. I had to remind myself this was the same guy who had attracted maybe a thousand to a Wallingford, Pa., rally earlier that day.
McCain gave his usual speech, but with a local twist. Instead of Joe the Plumber, he joked about “Pépé el Plomero.” (“That’s the last time I try that one,” he said right after.) At one point he asked how many Venezuelan-Americans were in the room. Some cheering. Puerto Rican-Americans? More cheering. Cuban-Americans? The room vibrated for a full minute.
There’s evidence that Republicans’ grasp on Hispanics in Florida—particularly Cuban-Americans—is slipping. But among those still in McCain’s camp, the enthusiasm is overwhelming. Compared to the bursting energy in that room, polls seem momentarily irrelevant. You can see why the candidate remains hopeful.
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Hundreds of marathoners filled the lobby of the Manhattan Hilton Sunday morning. John McCain was there, too, post-SNL, lacing up his proverbial shoes, stepping into his figurative short shorts, and rubbing metaphorical Vaseline on his hypothetical inner thighs. Whereas the runners’ race was a marathon, McCain was prepping for his final sprint to Election Day.
McCain’s closing schedule is brutal: He’s visiting Pennsylvania, New Hampshire, Florida, Tennessee, Indiana, New Mexico, Nevada, and New Mexico before his final rally in Phoenix, Ariz. On Monday, he’s hitting seven different states. If there were any lingering questions about his physical fitness, let this settle them.
It’s tempting to see McCain’s tour as one last desperate heave. But so far, the final sprint is devoid of resignation, nostalgia, or any other attitudes you’d associate with a losing campaign—outwardly, at least. McCain is fierce on the stump, pounding the podium and urging crowds to “fight”—a word he uses upward of a dozen times per speech. He’s usually talking about fighting for freedom and America and our children and our future, but sometimes it sounds like he’s talking about himself.
The reason: The McCain people actually think they can win this thing. Top adviser Rick Davis blasted out a memo over the weekend arguing that the national polls are narrowing so quickly that, “if the trajectory continues, we will surpass the 270 Electoral votes needed on Election Night.” He also argued, fairly implausibly, that Iowa is a “very close race” (almost every poll since October has Obama up by double digits), that Colorado is “back on the map” (the state now has a wider gap than ever), and that McCain is making progress with Hispanic voters (Obama has been holding, if not increasing, his lead among Latinos). During a flight to Pennsylvania, Charlie Black and Sen. Sam Brownback boarded the press charter to share their optimism. “At this time four years ago, Bush was down five points” in Iowa, Black said. Now McCain is currently down by one point, according to their internal polls. (And by “internal,” one reporter quipped, they mean pulled from their ass.)
The problem is, well, the evidence. The last days of a campaign always produce an overwhelming number of polls, and each campaign gets to cherry-pick its favorite outliers. I’d put a lot of stock in Mason-Dixon, too, if it was the only poll that showed me within three points in Virginia. I would also be sure to cite the national polls that show the race tightening, even though national polls are nearly meaningless now. I might also put extra trust in my internal pollster Bill McInturff, who has a reputation for being cautious. But cherry picking is still cherry picking. And meta pollsters like Pollster.com (which urges restraint at this panic-prone moment) and FiveThirtyEight make it more and more difficult to highlight your own numbers in any convincing way.
But there’s one thing you can’t spin, and that’s geography. All the states McCain is visiting in his last 24 hours are states Bush won in 2004, with the exception of Pennsylvania. Having to stop a normally safe Republican state like Indiana the day before the election is an indignity on par with riding commercial. You do it only when you have to.
Still, McCain is keeping it upbeat. He made one last stop Sunday evening in Peterborough, N.H., where he chucked his stump speech in favor of the old town-hall format. (He hasn’t taken audience questions since the string of embarrassing incidents a few weeks back.) It was like a time warp. Instead of hammering Obama and Biden for their recent slip-ups, he talked about taxes and immigration and earmarks. He addressed local issues like the Seabrook power plant and New Hampshire’s first in the nation voting status. He looked relaxed. When it came time for closing remarks, he rounded back to his customary “fight” riff. But this time, instead of shouting, he said it quietly. “We will succeed,” he said. “We will win.”
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Political comedy is hard. On-message political comedy is damn near impossible.
But John McCain managed to pull it off on last night’s Saturday Night Live, where, with the help of Tina Fey’s Sarah Palin, he poked fun of Barack Obama’s much-viewed half-hour special. McCain would have bought time on all major networks for his own infomercial. “We, however, can only afford QVC.”
So McCain and “Palin” proceeded to unveil various on-message infomercial products, including a collection of plates to commemorate McCain and Obama’s 10 town-hall meetings, all of which are blank (“He wouldn’t agree to those debates,” McCain helpfully explained. “Too bad!”); a series of “Joe” action figures, including Joe the Plumber and Joe Biden (“Pull his string, and he speaks for 45 minutes.”); and a set of knives especially designed for cutting out pork.
It wasn’t all on-message. At one point, Palin pulls the viewer aside to tout her “Palin 2012” T-shirts. McCain asks what she’s doing. “Just talkin’ about taxes,” she says. She later quips, “Either I’m runnin’ in four years or I’m gonna be a white Oprah.” There’s always back-and-forth between campaigns and the show as to which jokes get in and which ones don’t. (Watch Seth Meyers explain here.) So props to McCain for letting some of the touchier jokes fly.
Why pick the last weekend before Election Day to make fun of yourself? Free publicity never hurts. (Not that McCain needs it—he’s outspending Obama on advertising in the final week.) But it also opens the door for McCain to go out on a high note. One of the toughest narratives for a losing campaign to fight is the bleak Final Days storyline. But there’s no better way to do it than a little self-deprecation.
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See all Swift Boat Watch entries here.
Who They Are: Public Campaign Action Fund
Purpose: To promote publicly financed elections and hold politicians accountable for their sources of campaign money.
Director: David Donnelly, co-author of Are Elections for Sale?
Funding: MoveOn.org contributed $400,000 for this ad.
Cost of the Ad: According to IRS reports, the group paid a little more than $1 million to a political consulting firm in October for media production and placement. The group's press release says that the media buy was six figures.
Where It Ran: Tallahassee, Fla., Roanoke and Lynchburg, Va., and national cable through Nov. 3.
Claims: John McCain loves gambling and has gambled with lobbyists in their own casinos. Gambling interest groups have contributed $1 million to McCain.
Accuracy: The Las Vegas Review Journal wrote an in-depth analysis about McCain's ties to gambling, personal and campaign-related. An investigative piece by the New York Times reported that McCain gambled with a lobbyist of a casino he oversaw while he was on the Senate Indian affairs committee. The Center for Responsive Politics reports that the casino/gambling industry gave $276,276 to McCain and $178,094 to Obama. According to the Review Journal article, a liberal watchdog group estimates McCain has received $951,000 in donations. Wynn Resorts, one company mentioned in the article, contributed $158,500 to the RNC in 2008, according to the Center For Responsive Politics.
Swift Boat Rating:
The claims made in the ad are accurate. It's hard to pinpoint an exact amount of contributions or fundraising from the gambling industry, but $1 million seems like a fair estimate.
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From a McCain press logistics summary:
Thursday, October 23, 2008
ORMOND BEACH, FLORIDA
Event: John McCain Participates in "Joe the Plummer" Tour Rally
Location: All Star Building Materials, Inc.
1361 North Highway U.S. 1
Ormond Beach, FL 32174
Date: Thursday, October 23, 2008
I had no idea John McCain was a Modest Mouse fan.
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Playing the terrorism card is risky: You could look desperate, and your opponent could accuse you of fear-mongering. But if your opponent brings up the subject, then you may have an opportunity.
Which is why the McCain campaign is probably sending Joe Biden a thank-you card (it doesn’t do text messages) right about now. Over the weekend, Biden suggested that Obama would face an international crisis soon after taking office: “Mark my words,” Biden said at a Seattle fundraiser. “It will not be six months before the world tests Barack Obama like they did John Kennedy. The world is looking. … Watch, we’re gonna have an international crisis, a generated crisis, to test the mettle of this guy.”
McCain pounced on the statement, claiming that even Joe Biden agrees that Obama presidency would be dangerous. The key words, according to the McCain camp, are “generated crisis,” as if Obama’s mere presence in the Oval Office would provoke the crisis. “We don’t want a president who invites testing from the world at a time when our economy is in crisis and Americans are already fighting in two wars,” McCain said.
Today marked Phase Two of Operation Terrorism Card. The McCain campaign held a conference call in response to a Washington Post piece about commenters on al-Qaida-related message boards celebrating the U.S. financial meltdown. The gist of the piece: These al-Qaida commenters generally think the crisis is caused by the U.S. spending its resources on foreign wars, and they suggest that McCain would be more likely to continue this trend.
McCain surrogates took the opportunity to refute the article and to spin it around on Obama. McCain spokesman and blogger Michael Goldfarb said that the article, in a “rather irresponsible and rather outrageous fashion, claims that al Qaeda supports John McCain for president.” McCain Foreign Policy Adviser Randy Scheunemann then read a series of quotes—“If we’re going to talk about who has support from terrorist groups”—from Hamas leader Ahmed Yousef, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, and Muammar Gaddafi saying positive things about Obama. (Gaddafi has also attacked Obama.) Scheunemann said he was reading the quotes “without commentary.” Finally, former CIA director Jim Woolsey argued that one commenter’s motives are suspect: “This individual knows that the endorsement would be kiss of death, figuratively and literally. So it seems to me pretty clear that by making this statement, he is clearly trying to damage John McCain.”
As for Goldfarb’s complaint, the piece stops short of saying that al-Qaida endorses McCain or that the commenters are anything more than al-Qaida sympathizers. Adam Raisman of Site Intelligence Group, who was also quoted in the Post piece, emphasized to me that the commenter in question was “not affiliated with al-Qaeda. He doesn’t represent the group, he’s not spokesman.” Rather, he’s an al-Qaida sympathizer whose comment represents the prevailing views of other users—that McCain would keep America on its current trajectory. Raisman also dismissed Woolsey’s suggestion that the commenter was using reverse psychology to hurt McCain. “I don’t think the author wrote the message with any intention other than having like-minded individuals read it,” he told me. “I don’t think he thought he was … harming the campaign in any way.”
For weeks, the McCain camp has insinuated that Obama isn’t ready to handle crises. (Obama has said the same about McCain.) But until now it hasn’t made the explicit case that Obama would provoke and/or be unable to handle a terrorist attack. And just in time, too: With less than two weeks to go before Election Day, the McCain camp is running out of ammo. The “celebrity” angle flubbed, Ayers went nowhere, and the campaign is now mulling whether to invoke Jeremiah Wright, despite McCain’s assurances that he would not. The best part? Campaign apparatchiks can now claim it was Biden and the Washington Post who brought up terrorism—not them.
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In the beginning, there was “The One.” Now, thanks to an off-hand comment in tonight’s debate, there’s “that one.” The result: One "one" cancels the other "One" out.
McCain was discussing a 2005 energy bill “loaded down with goodies, billions for the oil companies, and it was sponsored by Bush and Cheney. You know who voted for it? You might never know. That one,” he said, indicating Obama. “You know who voted against it? Me.”
The Obama camp immediately blasted out a one-liner to reporters: “Did John McCain just refer to Obama as ‘that one’?” In an otherwise forgettable debate, that’s already become the moment, with Obama campaign manager David Plouffe suggesting it reflects McCain’s “anger” and lumping it in with his refusal to look Obama in the eye last debate.
Which is, of course, utterly silly. “That one” is good-natured towel-snapping—another way of saying, Get a load of this guy. Anyone who knows how McCain talks knows this. He was joshing around. It wasn’t particularly funny—but it wasn’t mean-spirited either.
It could still matter, though. McCain’s campaign has had a good chuckle dubbing Obama “The One,” a tweak at the worshipful way some fans treat him. (And, some believe, a hint that he’s the Antichrist.) They’re still laughing, too. Just today, the McCain camp issued novelty cufflinks with a mock presidential seal on one side—a jab at Obama’s campaign seal—and “The One” engraved on the other.
But “that one” could mean the end of “The One.” Now, every time Team McCain resurrects their favorite moniker, Team Obama need only reply, Sorry, which one? Oh, you mean “THAT one.”
It’s a dumb response, but then again, it’s a dumb attack. After all, it takes one to know one.
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See all Swift Boat Watch entries here.
Who They Are: Winning Message Action Fund
Purpose: A 501(c)4 nonprofit affiliated with NARAL Pro-Choice New York. The group advocates for reproductive rights. In this election, it opposes John McCain.
President: Kelli Conlin
Funding: Individual donors. Although they share staff with NARAL Pro-Choice New York, their finances are separate.
Cost of the Ad: Less than $10,000.
Where It Ran: Ran 92 times through SaysMeTV on various networks and markets. Airtime was never purchased for this ad. Instead, Winning Message Action Fund uses a company called SaysMeTV that allows individuals to pay to air the ad on networks ranging from BET to Animal Planet. For example, one ad in the Indianapolis suburbs on CNN between 7 p.m. and 12 a.m. costs $45. Airtime for this ad was mostly purchased in Pennsylvania.
Related Groups: NARAL Pro-Choice New York and National Institute for Reproductive Health.
Claims: McCain opposes Roe v. Wade and thinks it should be overturned. If it were overturned, 21 states would immediately start to ban abortions, making them illegal. The ad asks the question, “How much time should she serve?”
Accuracy: McCain explicitly states on his Web site that Roe v. Wade was a “flawed decision that must be overturned.” The Center for Reproductive Rights released the “What if Roe Fell” report (PDF) in 2007. On Page 10 of this report, it states that 21 states are at high risk for banning abortion. But only four states—Louisiana, Mississippi, North Dakota, and South Dakota—have enacted bans-in-waiting that would outlaw abortion as soon as Roe v. Wade is overturned. Bans-in-waiting don’t violate federal law because they don’t go into effect unless Roe v. Wade is overturned and therefore wouldn’t require legal action to be enacted. The report lists jail time as the punishment for many of the states’ statutes. But in all four ban-in-waiting statutes, the punishments are for the person who performs the abortion, not the woman who receives it.
Background: The ad started as an Internet campaign in August, funded for TV by individuals. But the organization will start purchasing its own airtime this month. The organization is still unsure if it will use the “How Much Time" ad or create a second one.
Swift Boat Rating: 
John McCain opposes Roe v. Wade, but the group’s 21-state estimate is a bit exaggerated. There is evidence that these 21 states could move to ban abortion, but nothing implies that action would be immediate. No statutes currently in existence would send a woman to prison for having an abortion—it’s an idea that’s commonly used as a scare tactic.
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House Republicans and the McCain campaign are currently blaming Speaker Nancy Pelosi’s speech today introducing the bailout package for its failure. According to this narrative, she managed to alienate a dozen Republicans who otherwise would have voted for the bill.
But read Pelosi’s speech. (Transcript here.)* She wasn’t bashing Republicans; she was bashing Bush. She said the $700 billion price tag “tells us only the costs of the Bush administration’s failed economic policies—policies built on budgetary recklessness, on an anything-goes mentality, with no regulation, no supervision, and no discipline in the system.” Later, she thanked Democratic leaders Barney Frank and Rahm Emanuel while conspicuously omitting minority leader John Boehner. But she did thank Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson. Doesn’t he count?
Granted, it may have sounded unpleasant to sensitive Republican ears. But GOP members can hardly object to Bush-bashing—in fact, many of them have done it themselves. Vulnerable GOP congressmen have scrambled to distance themselves from the president on Iraq, immigration, Katrina, and now economic policy. Sure, Pelosi could have been more gracious to Boehner and other Republicans who voted for the package, especially after such delicate negotiations. But her speech also showed Democrats that you can be for the bailout and still run on a Bush-bashing economic message. It’s a message you’d think would resonate with Republicans, too.
So what’s the advantage of the “hurt my feelings” excuse? Not only does it defy belief—does anyone really think 12 members of the House of Representatives actually changed their minds on this bill because of a speech?—but it allows Obama to take the high road and look presidential. His campaign decried McCain’s “angry and hyperpartisan statement”—McCain had blamed the failure on Obama and fellow Democrats—but refused to point fingers back. “Now is the time for Democrats and Republicans to join together and act in a way that prevents an economic catastrophe.”
In the short term, at least, the advantage is Obama’s. First, it means the financial crisis is likely to stay in the news for a while longer—and he enjoys a huge margin over McCain when the issue is the economy. Second, McCain explicitly injected himself into the bailout negotiations, thereby lashing himself to the results. He was taking credit for this bill before it passed. Does that mean he should get blamed for its failure?
*UPDATE: Turns out Pelosi ad-libbed quite a bit of the speech, including this potentially divisive line: "... Democrats believe in a free market ... but in this case, in its
unbridled form as encouraged, supported by the Republicans — some in
the Republican Party, not all — it has created not jobs, not capital,
it has created chaos." See the video here.
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Whoever wins the election, one thing is for sure: The next president of the United States will be extremely boring.
At least, that’s the impression voters just tuning in will get based on tonight’s debate.
The evening was heavy on substance, from the Wall Street bailout to Iraq to Russia and Georgia. Which is good, in theory. But there wasn’t a single memorable line. McCain did a better job of boiling his message down to short sentences—“That isn’t just naive, it’s dangerous,” he said of Obama’s desire to hold talks with unfriendly nations. At another point, McCain held up a pen and promised to veto every spending bill that crossed his desk. But none of his lines zinged like his now-famous “tied up at the time” moment during the primaries. Obama, meanwhile, sounded discursive and academic even about visceral issues like war with Iran: “What Senator McCain refers to is a measure in the Senate that would try to broaden the mandate inside Iraq” to justify action against Iran, he said. Obama did have a strong moment where he repeated the phrase, “You were wrong,” referring to McCain’s opinions on WMD and being welcomed as liberators in Iraq. But for the most part, it was like a race to the bottom of my memory.
Jim Lehrer tried valiantly to get the candidates to address each other. Eventually, Obama managed to turn to McCain and address him in the second person, but only after some prodding. “Say it directly to him,” Lehrer instructed Obama at one point. McCain never mustered the will.
The last few weeks are partly to blame. People have become so used to potshots and posturing—“100 years,” “lipstick,” sex education for kindergartners—that sober discussion of earmarks comes off as, well, dull. It was also the subject matter. Lehrer deliberately avoided pulling a Gibson/Stephanopoulos and instead stuck to policy. Sure, it occasionally got personal. McCain said Obama doesn’t know the difference between tactics and strategy; Obama accused McCain of trying to "pretend like the war started in 2007." But compared with recent weeks, it was all pretty tame.
That said, boredom is probably a good thing. The media fixate on debate details that reflect poorly on the candidates. (George W. Bush garbling a sentence, George H.W. Bush checking his watch, Al Gore sighing a lot.) So, the lack of “moments” means the candidates were able to stick to their message, not screw up any lines, and generally stay relaxed. Plus, there are greater sins than wonkiness in a debate. Tonight’s topics demanded some drilling down. McCain’s discussion of Georgian sovereignty, Obama’s distinction between “preconditions” and “preparation,” the sacrifices the economic bailout will force both candidates to make—all of this matters. I’m just glad they provide a transcript.
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I don’t know what it says about this election that it has spawned so many debate drinking games, but it seems worth a roundup. Here are some of the best rules and instructions you’ll find for tonight’s Mississippi fisticuffs:
“One drink:
- If both candidates show up”
--Rhog
“TAKE A SIP WHENEVER:
John McCain refers to himself as a 'maverick.'
Barack Obama rolls his eyes when John McCain refers to himself as a 'maverick.' "
--Radar
“When McCain makes his first reference to being a prisoner of war:
Everybody get in a box and take a Vicodin.
At McCain’s second reference to being a POW:
Two shots, punch the person next to you in the biceps, demand a confession.
Third POW reference:
Five and a half shots.
--Wonkette
“The entire time McCain speaks, players will be able to ‘invade’ other players by putting their finger in another person’s cup without them noticing. If they are able to do so, the invaded person must drink from their cup as well as their conqueror’s cup until McCain is done speaking.”
--In Our Ear … Out the Other
“Every time Obama pauses before the predicate of a sentence, go watch Star Trek: The Original Series to see how a pro does it.”
--Indecision 2008
“DO NOT take a drink every time McCain attempts to appropriate parts of Obama’s campaign message.
DO NOT take a drink every time McCain chuckles and smiles.
And ABSOLUTELY DO NOT take a drink every time McCain mentions 9/11."
--Daily Kos
“McCain claims the 'fundamentals of our economy are strong'–finish your drink and write a bad check to your landlord.
The cameras pan out to Cindy McCain–swallow all the pills you can find and finish your drink.
Either candidate refers to previous drug use–spark a joint and pass.
McCain uses self-deprecating humor to comment on his age–mix whiskey with Metamucil and sip while asking the person next to you when you’re going to have grandchildren.
McCain says 'my friends' more than three times–open the front door and scream, 'I am not your goddamn friend, McCain,' pound your beer and throw the empty in the street.”
--Fat Kid Special
“- Do a Jägerbomb every time 'the surge' is mentioned
- Shot of vodka every time Russia or Georgia are mentioned
- Shot of bourbon every time ethanol is mentioned
- Shot of tequila every time immigration or Mexico are mentioned
- Shot of rum every time hurricanes are mentioned
- Shot of scotch if the disembodied ghost of Ulysses S. Grant makes an appearance
- Shot of your own wretched tears when the debate ends and you realize that one of these two clowns is going to be the next president."
--Rhog
“Regardless of what either candidate says, at the end of the debate, drink something that must be lit on fire first, then hit yourself in the face with a shovel.”
--Josh Nelson, Huffington Post
And, of course, drink every time Jim Lehrer's pupils dilate to the size of quarters.
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The first question of tonight’s debate should be for John McCain, and it should be this: What were you thinking?
Let’s review: It was precisely 2 p.m. on Wednesday when McCain issued a statement saying he was suspending his campaign, and asking to delay tonight’s debate, so he could “return to Washington” to work with both parties on the Wall Street bailout plan. He was clear about the goal: “We must meet until this crisis is resolved,” he said. Then, at 11:30 a.m. today, he declared the suspension lifted. Crisis resolved? Not exactly. But McCain said he was “optimistic that there has been significant progress toward a bipartisan agreement.” He will be in Mississippi tonight to debate Barack Obama.
From crisis to optimism in less than 48 hours: That’s leadership! Or maybe not. There’s a better word to describe McCain’s behavior between his two announcements.
First, it should be noted that he didn’t really suspend his campaign. His campaign asked TV networks to stop running ads, but some still aired. Sarah Palin still attended public events. Surrogates and campaign aides continued to boost McCain and ding Obama. And McCain himself still held an interview with Katie Couric (though he canceled on David Letterman, much to Dave’s chagrin). Then there’s the length of time it took him to get to the White House after his announcement—more than 24 hours. Then there’s what he did when he got there—upset a bipartisan agreement that appeared to be moving along well, remain mostly silent during the key meeting with Obama and President Bush, blame Democrats for the mess-up, and accuse Obama of “posturing.” His final act was to skip off to Mississippi for the debate.
Editorial boards and most other observers declared the decision a mess, especially after the Thursday meeting in which bipartisan negotiations collapsed. Even Mike Huckabee, a McCain booster, called McCain’s gambit a “huge mistake.” (That said, Newt Gingrich approved, calling McCain’s decision “the greatest single act of responsibility ever taken by a presidential candidate.”)
But despite all the talk about his campaign suspension, McCain’s bigger mistake may have been lifting it and agreeing to debate Obama. Initially, McCain promised to boycott the debate barring “consensus on legislation” to address the bailout. Needless to say, that hasn’t happened. What has happened is that a general agreement on the broad strokes of the bailout package has fallen apart; House Republicans who had earlier seemed amenable to the bailout have revolted, possibly to make it look as if McCain swooped in and saved the day; and talks have “imploded” thanks largely to the arrival of both presidential candidates on Capitol Hill.
McCain’s assessment of all this in a statement this morning? “Significant progress.”
Take it away, Jim Lehrer.
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Bill Clinton praised a presidential candidate yesterday. “The American people, for good and sufficient reasons, admire him,” Clinton said on The View. “He’s given something in life the rest of us can’t match.” The problem: He was talking about John McCain.
[UPDATE, Sept. 25: Clinton can't help himself: He praised McCain again today, telling Good Morning America that he understands why McCain wants to delay Friday's debate. ""We know he didn't do it because he's afraid, because Sen. McCain wanted more debates," Clinton said. "I presume he did
that in good faith since I know he wanted -- I remember he asked for
more debates to go all around the country and so I don't think we ought
to overly parse that."]
At the Democratic National Convention in August, Clinton promised that he and Hillary would do everything possible to get Barack Obama elected. Since then, he’s been a nonentity on the campaign trail. He just announced plans to visit swing states with Obama next week, but only “after the Jewish holidays.” (Presumably he’ll wait for Yom Kippur, which is Oct. 9, not Sukkot, which ends Oct. 22.) But his presence won’t necessarily be a boon; even when he’s praising Obama, it sounds tepid.
Bill Clinton is one of the best orators and political talents of his generation. So why is he such a lousy surrogate? Some theories:
It’s always about him. Granted, Clinton’s recent TV appearances were geared to promote the Clinton Global Initiative. So he’s excused for talking about himself there. But even questions that aren’t about him become about him. When a View hostess asked him who he thinks is going to win, he answered the question—“I believe Obama will win”—and then segued into praise for McCain. “If it hadn’t been for John McCain, I’m not sure I could have normalized relations with Vietnam,” he said. When David Letterman asked him what he thinks about Obama picking Biden over Hillary, he described how “Joe Biden was a great supporter of mine when I was president in stopping the genocide in Bosnia, Kosovo, restoring democracy in Haiti, and a lot of things we did together.”
He likes everyone. On Tuesday, Clinton had kind words for the Palin family. “I come from Arkansas. I get why she’s hot out there, why she's doing well,” he told reporters. (He added that voters would think, “I'm glad she loves her daughter and she's not ashamed of her. … I like that little Down syndrome kid.”) On Larry King Live, he called Palin “gutsy, spirited, and real.” As for Obama vs. McCain, “I genuinely like both of them. … We make a terrible mistake believing we have to find something wrong with the people we won’t vote for.” And calling Obama a “good candidate” and a “smart man” sounds pretty weak.
He’s too analytical. Clinton likes to play pundit, explaining why he thinks Obama will win instead of why people should vote for him. On the Late Show, he predicted the election would “break Obama’s way.” Not because of Obama’s message of hope and change and the American dream, but because of election fundamentals. As he said on The View: “Obama will win for the following reasons: Two-thirds of American people are having trouble paying their bills. … America is growing more diverse,” racially and demographically. And “registration is up for Democrats, flat for Republicans in 20 of the most important states.” Inspiring!
He thinks Hillary deserved to win. Clinton doesn’t have to keep arguing that Hillary won the popular vote, as he did on The View. (She did come close.) He also stopped short of telling Hillary supporters who dislike Obama that they’re wrong. “You can’t tell someone else that ground on which they make their voting decision is irrational,” he said. “We can’t tell anybody they don’t know what they’re doing because they vote for candidate X instead of Y.” That’s actually a good description of what campaigning is.
He’s determined to be bipartisan. Since 2000, Clinton has tried to live down his reputation as a polarizing force. The Clinton Foundation combats HIV/AIDS and makes a point of reaching out to Republicans. Laura Bush was the keynote speaker at the foundation’s 2006 conference. After a massive tsunami hit Indonesia in 2005, Clinton teamed up with President George H.W. Bush to ask for donations. Sure, he didn’t seem to mind the rough-and-tumble when campaigning for his wife in the primaries, but campaigning for Obama, with all the mud-lobbing going on right now, could complicate his efforts to reburnish his reputation as an elder statesman.
This doesn’t mean that Clinton won’t campaign for Obama or that he won’t be effective. All he needs, to paraphrase a popular political slogan, is a candidate he can believe in.
UPDATE: Clinton can't help himself: He praised McCain again Thursday, telling
Good Morning America that he understands why McCain's wants to delay
Friday's debate. ""We know he didn't do it because he's afraid, because Sen.
McCain wanted more debates," Clinton
said. "I presume he did that in good faith since I know he wanted -- I
remember he asked for more debates to go all around the country and so I don't
think we ought to overly parse that."
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Prominent Hillary Clinton supporter Lynn Forester de Rothschild has decided to endorse John McCain. Why? Because Barack Obama is a snob.
“This is a hard decision for me personally because frankly I don’t like him,” she told CNN this summer. “I feel like he is an elitist.”
This, coming from the CEO of EL Rothschild LLC and wife of British financier and thoroughbred-horse-racing enthusiast Sir Evelyn Robert Adrian de Rothschild—son of financier and luxury automobile enthusiast Anthony Gustav de Rothschild, son of financier and thoroughbred-race-horse breeder Leopold de Rothschild, son of British politician Lionel Nathan de Rothschild, son of London financier Nathan Mayer Rothschild, son of Mayer Amschel Rothschild, son of money changer and goldsmith Moses Amschel Bauer.
Of course, being elite is not elitism. As de Rothschild herself wrote in that working man's rag, the Wall Street Journal, "Elitism is a state of mind, a view of the world that cannot be measured simply by one's net worth, position or number of houses." But as my colleague Mickey Kaus put it, "You lost me at 'de.' "
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It’s almost as if the McCain campaign circulated a memo on how not to respond to the Wall Street collapse, but everyone misinterpreted it as what they should do.
First, McCain asserted that the “fundamentals of our economy are strong” before describing them as “at great risk.” Then his top economic adviser suggested—the campaign says jokingly—that McCain helped invent the BlackBerry. Now Carly Fiorina, another top adviser, said in separate instances that neither Sarah Palin nor John McCain could run a major corporation.
Now, before you pounce on Fiorina, consider the full context:
MITCHELL: You were asked whether Sarah Palin has the experience to run a major company ... and you said, "No, I don't, but you know what? That's not what she's running for."
FIORINA: “Well, I don't think John McCain could run a major corporation. I don't think Barack Obama could run a major corporation. I don't think Joe Biden could run a major corporation. But on the other hand, running a major corporation is not the same as being President or Vice President of the United States. It is a fallacy to suggest that the country is like a company. So, of course, to run a business you have to have a lifetime of experience in business. But that's not what John McCain, Barack Obama, Sarah Palin or Joe Biden are doing.”
Her answer is completely natural and nondamning if you look at the entire paragraph. (Although you could take issue with the "fallacy" line, since George W. Bush did suggest that business experience matters.) The “gaffe”—that McCain couldn’t run a major corporation—is manufactured by the setup.
It’s not unlike Wesley Clark's comment in June about how John McCain's getting shot down doesn't prepare him for the presidency. He, too, was responding in the context of the question. Bob Schieffer pointed out that Barack Obama had not “ridden in a fighter plane and gotten shot down,” to which Clark replied: “Well, I don't think riding in a fighter plane and getting shot down is a qualification to be president.”
Of course, the “context” defense is useless now. If John McCain can excerpt Katie Couric’s observation that the primary campaign was sexist and make it sound like she was talking about Obama … if Obama can rip McCain’s “100 years” quote to make it sound like he’s for a century-long occupation of Iraq … if McCain can juxtapose Sarah Palin’s “lipstick” line from the RNC with Obama’s “lipstick” quote to make it sound like he’s talking about her … then Carly Fiorina, whatever her intention, is out of luck.
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One of the many reasons I am mourning David Foster Wallace’s death (along with those cited here and here and here) is that we never found out what he thought of John McCain’s 2008 campaign. His 2000 piece on John McCain is my favorite discussion of authenticity in politics. The driving question: When McCain tells you he seeks only to inspire Americans to serve a cause greater than their own self-interest—or, to update for 2008, when he says he’d rather “lose an election than lose a war”—is he speaking the truth or mere hooey? In other words, is John McCain “for real”?
Wallace comes down on all sides all at once. On the one hand, McCain’s pledges of honesty and reform "indicate that some very shrewd, clever marketers are trying to market this candidate's rejection of shrewd, clever marketing." His brand of anti-politics came along at a convenient time, Wallace notes, just as cynicism in American politics was reaching its (apparent) zenith.
But McCain has a trump card: his personal story, which Wallace calls “riveting and unspinnable and true.” That story gives even a cynic like Wallace pause when he listens to McCain’s rhetoric about integrity. We’ve all heard the story of McCain’s capture in Vietnam told and retold. But Wallace tells it as if for the first time. He describes McCain’s refusal of release "with all his basic primal human self-interest howling at him," and then asks:
“Would you have refused the offer? Could you have? You can’t know for sure. None of us can. … But, see we do know how this man reacted. That he chose to spend four more year there, mostly in a dark box, alone, tapping messages on the walls to the others, rather than violate a Code. Maybe he was nuts. But the point is that with McCain it feels like we know, for a proven fact, that he is capable of devotion to something other, more, than his own self-interest.”
Wallace never really decides whether McCain is categorically, irrefutably “for real.” (He settles on the weak conclusion that the answer “depends less on what is in his heart than on what might be in yours.”) But you can tell he really, really hopes he is.
Which is why I wondered what Wallace would make of McCain 2008. McCain 2000 railed against negativity on the campaign trail. (And rightly so—he was the victim of a scurrilous whisper campaign in South Carolina.) At one point, Wallace writes, McCain announces that he “ordered his staff to cease all Negativity and to pull all the McCain2000 response ads in South Carolina regardless of whether the Shrub [Bush] pulls his own Negative ads or not.”
The Obama and McCain campaigns would surely dispute who first went negative this year. McCain’s people would probably point to Barack Obama repeatedly claiming that McCain wants to stay in Iraq for 100 years. (That’s not what McCain meant.) Obama’s people would cite McCain’s entire campaign apparatus since the “Celebrity” ad, from “Country First” (itself a tacit accusation) to tire gauges to dissing “community organizers to “lipstick” to Obama’s mythical plan to teach sex ed to kindergartners. Whoever “started it,” McCain has embraced negativity and made it central to his pitch.
Wallace would probably pick apart the difference between the candidate and his campaign. A candidate will often delegate attacks to surrogates or staffers. This gives the candidate deniability; when confronted, they can gin up some boilerplate about how campaigns get ugly. In the “lipstick” episode, for example, some pundits thought McCain was doing just this. Chris Matthews said he doubted McCain would himself say, Barack Obama compared Sarah Palin to a pig. That would just be too absurd. But a day later, McCain did just that, first to Telemundo and then on The View.
Authenticity is hard enough to maintain when you’re asserting your own commitment to truth and fairness and integrity. When you’re actively undermining it on a daily basis—as McCain has been in recent weeks, with not just distortions but reckless repetitions thereof—upkeep of authenticity becomes all but impossible.
“[T]he likeliest reason why so many of us care so little about politics,” Wallace writes, “is that modern politicians make us sad, hurt us deep down in ways that are hard even to name, much less talk about. It’s way easier to roll your eyes and not give a shit.”
McCain offered an alternative to the cravenness. But for whatever reason, he changed. (Or, who knows: Maybe the “real McCain” is actually closer to the old, seemingly honest McCain than the new, seemingly dishonest one, but we just assume that the latter is more real because it’s more recent.) The trend toward dishonesty calls to mind another Wallace passage, this one from his famous essay about a cruise. He’s talking about the way people smile when they’re trying to sell you something:
“This is dishonest, but what’s sinister is the cumulative effect that such dishonesty has on us: since it offers a perfect facsimile or simulacrum of goodwill without goodwill’s real spirit, it messes with our heads and eventually starts upping our defenses even in cases of genuine smiles and real art and true goodwill. It makes us feel confused and lonely and impotent and angry and scared. It causes despair.”
The effect of politicians lying—not just lying, but repeating their lies and then lying about lying—is similar. When you feel like a candidate and his surrogates inhabit an alternate reality, it’s not just disappointing—it’s deeply saddening. It’s why so many people watching this campaign are inspired by the candidate’s declared commitment to “change,” however nebulous, but horrified by the means of attaining it.
Update 1:49 p.m.: Wallace did, in fact, weigh in on the presidential campaign in a Wall Street Journal interview back in May. His assessment of McCain: "McCain himself has obviously changed; his flipperoos and weaselings on Roe v. Wade, campaign finance, the toxicity of lobbyists, Iraq timetables, etc. are just some of what make him a less interesting, more depressing political figure now—for me, at least. It's all understandable, of course—he's the GOP nominee now, not an insurgent maverick. Understandable, but depressing."
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Both campaigns promised a truce yesterday for the
anniversary of 9/11. But they went a step further, backpedaling from previous attacks—on
community organizers, in John McCain’s case, and on small-town mayors, in Barack Obama’s.
At last night’s forum on service at Columbia University,
McCain praised community organizers after Sarah Palin and Rudy Giuliani mocked them in their
convention speeches last week. “Of course I respect community organizers,”
McCain said.
“Of course I respect people who serve their communities. Senator Obama’s
service in that area is outstanding.”
Meanwhile, Obama went out of his way to praise small-town
mayors, after dinging the town of Wasilla
for having “I think, 50 employees.” “We had an awful lot of small-town mayors
at the Democratic convention, I assure you,” Obama said
on Thursday. “The mayors have some of the toughest jobs in the country because
that's where the rubber hits the road. We yak-yak-yak in the Senate. They
actually have to fill potholes and trim trees and make sure the garbage is
taken away.”
To some, that might sound like damning with faint praise. Tough job, there, taking out the trash. But
presumably Obama meant well. At least this time he didn’t call her home town “Wasilly.”