Maybe I'm a little angry because I just woke up. Maybe it's working 10 or 11 hour shifts at night delivering pizza until the wee hours of the morning that has made me bitter, but I don't think so. No, it's the national media.
When I read Maureen Dowd's fluffy and lackluster column just now, it made me viscerally angry.
Essentially, Dowd pieced together a catalog of mistruths, misrepresentations, and outright lies in an effort to smear Obama as "elitist." Is that all it takes to make the NYT op-ed page these days? Apparently it is, with the likes of Kristol polluting the newsprint.
So, I'm going to tear her "article" apart line by line.
Frankly, this elitism line is the biggest bunch of b.s. I've seen in this election. I was mostly willing to let it slide off my back when misrepresentation after misrepresentation was allowed to float through the airwaves and newspapers. I'm through attacking Senator Clinton and have no desire to do so, and I'm through trying to bring the light to Clinton supporters, but I can't let this travesty of journalistic opinion get by unscathed.
When Maureen Dowd, quite possibly the most elitist woman in America, drops the hammer on Obama from quite possibly the most elitist newspaper in America, I cannot remain silent. Let's begin.
First, Dowd begins by attempting to establish her own "working class, salt of the earth" bonafides. She states:
I grew up in a house with a gun, a strong Catholic faith, an immigrant father, brothers with anti-illegal immigrant sentiments and a passion for bowling. (My bowling trophy was one of my most cherished possessions.)
Well, Jesus Christ. I had no idea that Dowd was such a regular gal. I mean, maybe it's the 25 years that she's been churning articles for the NYT that had me thinking she was more than just another regular Joe. A bowling trophy? Does she have that on the mantle next to her Pulitzer? I feel certain that she does.
Behind closed doors in San Francisco, elitism’s epicenter, Barack Obama showed his elitism, attributing the emotional, spiritual and cultural values of working-class, "lunch pail" Pennsylvanians to economic woes.
San Francisco is not elitism's epicenter, and I'm so damn tired of reading that line. Guess what, Dowd? Washington, D.C., your hometown and the only place you've ever lived for an appreciable amount of time - D.C. is elitism's epicenter. It's where rich, out of touch white people make decisions about the rest of the country while ignoring the disparate inequality in their very own backyard. I've been to D.C. many times. I've been to San Francisco once. Which is more elite - taking a cab to Fisherman's Wharf or riding in a bulletproof, blacked-out SUV to the legislative session? Which is more elite - eating a piece of Ghirardeli chocolate at the factory or living in a mansion rowhome on Massaschusetts Avenue across the street from a foreign embassy?
I've had quite enough of these insular D.C. types trying to tell me what's elitist and what is not. I know elitism when I see it. I've stayed in the Society of the Cincinnati's Anderson House in D.C. for a couple of nights. I know elitism when I see it, thank you very much.
Obama comes across less like a candidate in Pennsylvania than an anthropologist in Borneo.
His mother got her Ph.D. in anthropology, studying the culture of Indonesia.
Oh, I see. He had a smart mother. Well, shit. That should raise a massive red flag right there. A mother with a Ph.D.? Elitist, no doubt. Obama comes across as thoughtful? Now, why in the Hell would we want a thoughtful President? Why in God's name would we want any person with an ounce of brain matter making decisions about this country? Would it be better for Obama's candidacy if his mother had made a living turning tricks on Harry Hines Boulevard in Dallas, Texas?
He hasn’t pulled a John Kerry and asked for a Philly cheese steak with Swiss yet, but he has maintained a regal "What do the simple folk do to help them escape when they’re blue?" bearing, unable to even feign Main Street cred. But Hillary did when she belted down a shot of Crown Royal whiskey with gusto at Bronko’s in Crown Point, Ind.
Look, I know these beltway types have no idea what us "common folk" like to drink, so I've refrained from saying a single thing about Senator Clinton's "shot." But I'm going to comment now. I can't help it. First off, it wasn't a shot. When you sip liquor out of a shot glass, that does not mean you are doing a shot. It means you are sipping liquor out of a shotglass. Since Dowd doesn't know what a shot is, it's when one throws back a shotglass full of liquor in one swoop. If one does not drain said shotglass, one should be fully embarassed for not doing so. Senator Clinton, for all her gusto, did no such thing. Sipping Crown Royal? Oh yes, very common, very salt of the earth.
No.
Crown Royal? Oh, you mean the Canadian whisky that people that can't handle bourbon drink? Don't get me wrong, I like a little Crown every now and then. But how about some Jack Daniel's or Jim Beam? How about an American liquor that people like me drink. It's the dumbest damn thing I've ever seen. I don't care what booze my president drinks. In fact, being a bit of a boozehound myself, I'd actually prefer he or she not drink at all. I like my president to be stone cold sober when he or she is making decisions that affect the lives of every single person on the planet. Crown Royal? It comes in a purple velvet bag. Very not elitist, I assure you. A purple velvet bag, folks. I simply point to this as proof that Clinton's advisors are clueless. If she wanted to show how common yet uncommon she was, she should have ordered a Maker's and scraped the red wax off a fresh bottle with her fingernails. But again, how about not drinking at all?
Just as he couldn’t knock down the bowling pins
I've said notihng about the bowling thing. I thought the criticism was stupid. However, since I'm an avid bowler, I can no longer hold back. Obama bowled seven frames. In the seventh, he bowled an unscored spare. Here's his scorecard:
- - - | 0
- - 4 | 4
- 7s 2 | 13
- 9 - | 22
- 7s - | 29
- 8 - | 37
- 9 / |
Assuming Obama would have knocked down at least eight pins in the eighth, his score would actually be 55 through seven frames, not 37. At the very least, he bowled a 47 through seven frames, not 37. But these assholes in the media, most of them don't even know how to score a game of bowling. They only know that 37 is a terrible score for 10 frames, so they tut tut and tsk tsk and talk down on Senator Obama like he couldn't knock down a pin. Enough already. Obama's bowling was adequate - Hell, it's a lot better than most non-bowlers would do. Enough with the bowling shit.
Even when Hillary’s campaign collapsed around her and her husband managed to revive the bullets over Bosnia, Obama has still not been able to marshal a knockout blow — or even come up with a knockout economic speech that could expand his base of support.
You know, this idea that Obama "can't score a knockout punch" is getting ridiculous, as well. Not that I would expect Dowd to get it, but the whole point of Obama's campaign is that it isn't about throwing knockout punches. It isn't about throwing punches at all. It's about coming together to solve problems. Fighting doesn't solve a damn thing. Trying to knock your opponent's teeth out might feel good in the short run, but it accomplishes nothing. Yeah, your opponent is bloodied and lying on the ground with an impending dental bill, but no problem is solved, and no person is better off than before. Dowd just doesn't get it. She doesn't understand that we want a president that will use his brains instead of his metaphorical fist. Why does Senator Clinton rub so many the wrong way? It's because she is from the "bludgeon opponents into submission" school of politics. People feel resentment when they are bludgeoned into submission. People want to be a part of the process, even if they lose. Nobody wants to get shouted down and told they are wrong. Dowd, a D.C. elitist that knows nothing of the world outside the beltway, has no idea how real people solve real problems - by talking about them, agreeing on some things while disagreeing on others - and still remaining cordial.
I can disagree with my opponent but still go to the bar with him or her to knock back a few shots of Jack - that's what real people do, Ms. Dowd.
What turns off voters is the detached egghead quality that they tend to equate with a wimpiness, wordiness and a lack of action
No, Ms. Dowd, what turns off voters is when politicians spend all of their time trying to bruise and bloody their opponent instead of working to solve the real, pressing issues that our nation faces today. It's why a huge amount of voters don't even vote. For a Beltway Pundit to presume to speak for the voters of this nation and their desires is so insulting to me that it just makes my blood boil. Could you tell? I'm trying very hard not to drop fucks and shits everywhere, even though that's what real people do when they get really, really angry.
But his exclusive Hawaiian prep school and years in the Ivy League made him a charter member of the elite, along with the academic experts he loves to have in the room.
Yeah, he's smart. Smarter than even you, Ms. Dowd. That's the real problem here. What will Dowd write to sell papers when she can't mock George W. Bush with every column? Like the "cornered raccoon" as she describes Senator Clinton, Maureen Dowd realizes that the death knell of her profession is coming. We have no time for your elitist spouting, Ms. Dowd. We have urgent issues and problems to solve in this country, and none of them have to do with what you think is or isn't important in this campaign.
People need health care. Our children need better education. Our economy is in shambles, sold off to China wholesale. Our military is breaking, if not already broken. Our infrastructure is crumbling. We're facing an energy crisis. There's just no time to pay attention to you, Ms. Dowd. Like how I used to enjoy watching the commercials during the Super Bowl, I enjoyed reading your fluff every now and again. But there's no time anymore. I'm going to spend this day off making calls into Pennsylvania, where I lived and worked for seven years. I'm going to tell people why I believe in Barack Obama and why I don't believe in you.
What will you do, Ms. Dowd? Will you put on some striking red evening gown and go drink martinis at some dinner party? Elitist? What a fairy tale. I'll take my hope, my bowling ball, and my bottle of Jack all the way to the White House with Barack Obama, thank you very much.