I watched today's Senate hearings on the repeal of Don't Ask - Don't Tell just to bask in the heat of John McCain's white-hot rage. Even if I had turned the sound off, the heat rays shooting from his eyes would have been enough to defrost and cook completely a Healthy Choice frozen chicken in alfredo noodles with broccoli dinner.
With one exception, everyone in the room -- the generals and the senators on both sides of the issue -- were calm and business-like. John McCain's glare and undisguised contempt suggested to me the visage of a father sitting at the trial of the man who raped and murdered his child.
So, what's the deal with McCain?
An anonymous reader of James Fallow's column at The Atlantic has hit it out of the ballpark with this analysis:
>>Trying to decipher the riddle that is now John McCain is probably nothing more than pop-psychology, but I'll give it a shot. The obvious insight is that McCain is now bitter. For years, he conducted himself as an amiable and bi-partisan war hero. He was loved by the media, appearing on Meet the Press, Hardball, This Week with Geoege Stephanopolous. Rarely was there critical treatment of him, and it showed in national polls.
But in 2000, the South Carolina primary changed him forever. The reservoir of good will that he spent years nourishing was of no use to him anymore. In fact, it made things worse. Rove used McCain's cross-appeal against him, undermining any support he might have had with conservatives. And somewhere in his mind, McCain must have known that while he was suffering and sacrificing in a Hanoi hell pit, George W. Bush was essentially dodging his duties by enlisting in the National Guard. He then watched Bush win the nomination by aligning with "the agents of intolerance" than McCain had famously denounced.
When in 2003, Bush so disastrously mismanaged the Iraq War, McCain must have known (correctly, I believe) that he would have been the more effective Commander-In-Chief, precisely because of the Vietnam War that Bush had avoided. McCain clearly understood that more than 125,000 troops would be needed to defeat Saddam and occupy his country. McCain was the only respected member of the GOP to prognosticate that the coming insurgency would be brutal, but worth fighting for. He openly disagreed with Vice President Cheney, called for the resignation of Don Rumsfeld, and was one of the first to publicly back General Petreus and endorse the surge at the precise moment when the public wanted to abandon Iraq. As 2008 approached, he was still admired by both parties and enjoyed a darling status with the media.
So he must have believed that 2008 was his time. But then came a strange (and what I believe to be an irresponsible) NYT story that essentially stated that some of McCain's former aides believed in 2000 that he may have had an affair with a lobbyist. And the new media darling was Barack Obama. Chris Matthews, who for years had such a crush on McCain, now rejoiced at how Obama's speech gave him a thrill up and down his leg. McCain, of course, lost the 2008 election because his campaign failed, not because of a conspiracy. To McCain, he must have viewed matters like this: He was a war hero, who built up a reputation for integrity, tolerance, and true post-partisanship, and he lost to a man who had never served his nation, spent only four years in the Senate, and whose crowning achievement was a keynote address and some bridge-building he did at the Harvard Law Review. Two years later, he was in danger of losing his own Senate seat in Arizona because he wasn't conservative enough!
For all of his service, sacrifice, relationships with the media, and political risk-takings, what does John McCain have to show for it as 2011 approaches? He'll never be POTUS. His greatest legislative legacy, the McCain-Feingold bill, which was so microcosmic of his dedication to transcending political corruption and partisanship, was struck down by the SCOTUS in a 5-4 decision. His own party almost kicked him out. And now his military is abandoning what he believes is a core value.
John McCain lost an election, which ended his political career. He then lost his status in his party. With the repeal of DADT, he must feel like he now lost his country.<<</p>
I recommend that you read the entire Fallows article to get the full flavor of the dissection of McCain's sad pathology.
The only thing left out of the pop-psych-analysis is the father-son issue. McCain is the son of an admiral and grandson of an admiral. Was he forced into a naval career? Please. Oliver Stone's next screenplay is writing itself as we watch.