Candidate psychology will out. Last week I wrote about how John McCain seemed to be re-enacting his torture-and-survival experience in Vietnam by repeatedly flip-flopping from Hound of Baskervilles to Scooby Doo on the campaign trail. And Wednesday afternoon, in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, he actually called the crowd at a McCain-Palin rally "my fellow prisoners." Hanging from this Freudian slip--that neither he, nor Sarah Palin, nor his daughter Meghan seemed to notice--is a long foxtail of meanings. McCain has written that his experience in Vietnam taught him to dedicate his life to a higher cause than himself alone, giving him a sense of purpose that carried him into politics (and ultimately spawned his campaign slogan, "Country First"). Having been a POW is not just a check mark on his resume or a ticket to a reliable national constituency of veterans. It's his chief qualification for the presidency, not to mention his best retort whenever he's cornered. But the sad truth is that the Vietnam war has not given its generation a straight bounce in 40 years, and McCain calling supporters his "fellow prisoners" really brings that weirdness home. It suggests that the Arizona senator sees the next three weeks of the campaign as more time in the Hanoi Hilton for him and the Republican party: They will be buffeted and beaten, but if they hold their heads high and refuse an early release, they will be able to come home and marry a beer heiress. If only. It's not as if the crowd can't see that savage repression. All those folks screaming "Kill him!" and "Treason!" and "Terrorist!"--they want McCain to let loose his demons. They want the warrior to slash and burn, they want him to take no prisoners. They have no idea that John McCain is his own worst prisoner. And jailer too. Leslie Savan, author of Slam Dunks and No-Brainers: Pop Language in Your Life, the Media, and Like...Whatever and The Sponsored Life: Ads, TV, and American Culture, is a Pulitzer Prize finalist in criticism for her Village Voice columns about advertising and commercial culture. When he left the post-debate meet-and-greet early, McCain seemed to know in his heart of hearts that he'd lost, not just the debate, but the election. Why else abandon the stage and the cameras to Barack and Michelle? Still, at least through Nov. 3, he has to go back out on the stump. And out there he's a prisoner of his party's ideology (and of Steve Schmidt, Karl Rove, and that awful moose-skinner who's angling for his place on the ticket), forced to mouth slurs and phony policy proposals that demean the straight-talking character that once made him so popular with independents. That ought to make anyone angry, and McCain seems barely able to contain his rage. Petraeus' comments were reported on yesterday by Spencer Ackerman and were noted elsewhere today, and we think they deserve more attention. We went to the video on Heritage's site to get a longer transcript, and sure enough, the context shows that Petraeus was more or less backing up Obama's point of view. What Petraeus said isn't a perfect endorsement of Obama's views -- he didn't specifically discuss Iran, and the question of "no preconditions" didn't come up -- but it's pretty darn close. That's because it's as clear as day that the context specifically was the debate between Obama and McCain on this topic on Tuesday night. During that exchange, the candidates clashed on whether to meet with the leaders of Iran, and the questioner at Heritage posed the subject about talking to enemies specifically in that light. And while Petraeus did say he didn't see Tuesday's debate, the general no doubt knows precisely what the disagreement between the two men is on this topic. So the question Petraeus was asked was basically the same as him being asked whose views he endorsed when it comes to the two men's very public disagreement. Petraeus' own joke about not wanting to wade into "a minefield" and his allusion to not getting "involved in domestic politics" would suggest that that's how he saw the question, too. And Petraeus more or less picked the Obama argument. Maybe Petraeus and McCain can discuss this at dinner someday. |
| Leslie Savan wrote a column about advertising and commercial culture for The Village Voice for 13 years, and was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize in criticism in 1997, 1992, and 1991. Many of those columns appear in her collection, THE SPONSORED LIFE: Ads, TV, and American Culture (Temple University Press). In her latest book, SLAM DUNKS AND NO-BRAINERS: Language in Your Life, the Media, Business, Politics, and, Like, Whatever (Knopf), Savan looks at the power of pop talk, at how everyday language is commercialized and, as in the case of George ("It's a slam dunk!") Tenet, weaponized. |
FAIR USE NOTICE |