As I’d predicted, Bush’s big speech was competently written, passably delivered, and largely content-free. He offered few plans for the future. He brought up war, terror, and the war on terror repeatedly. He bashed Kerry “politely.” He made sure to lie about Kerry’s platform, among other topics, along the way. He presented himself as the no-choice-possible “brand” for a demographic target market of “NASCAR dads” and swing-state suburban whites. And, oh yeah, he hinted oh-so subtly that anybody who dared oppose or disagree with him on anything was unpatriotic, un-American, etc.
The only thing I didn’t expect was the humanity, the near-humility, one could see in Bush’s face and his body language (if not in his script). Like Jimmy Carter in 1980, Bush has clearly aged beyond his years in office. He seemed weary, struggling to get through the script without a flubbed line. I pitied him. I still want him removed from office, but now I have another reason why—I want him relieved of his heavy burdens.
Public speaking, of course, isn’t Bush’s strong point. Heck, being President isn’t his strong point. His strengths are as a backroom dealmaker, a fundraiser for the hard right, and a policy whore for certain industries. He called Kerry unqualified to take over the White House; but he’s proven himself unqualified to run anything but a campaign.
And even at that, he’s gotten scared and desperate, as seen in the ever-shriller attack ads and the insult-filled convention speeches he delegated to his underlings.
The Republicans’ bully aesthetic, which Bush has encouraged, just might fatally disgrace him. Bill Clinton announced he was going into a hospital for heart bypass surgery. Bush mentioned this in a campaign speech on Friday. Bush asked his audience to remember the ex-President in their prayers. Instead, the audience loudly booed. Bush did nothing to discourage them. In one moment, the party’s mean side was revealed in all its grossness.
New-age philosopher and “medical intuitive” Caroline Myss once wrote that the fall of Communism came in a sudden, unexpected flash. In a relative instant, seven decades of clunky, kludgy ideology blew away.
Could we be witnessing, at last, the start of neoconservatism’s own dissolving?
