The thing that I notice as I see more of John Edwards is that this is one tough motherfucker. Don't let the Jimmy Carter smile and the excellent hair and the honey-tinged drawl fool you for one minute. This guy has more stones than the rest of the Democratic candidates combined. This is a guy who could reduce Ahmadinejad to s pool of goo while the latter is still thinking he's been offered another piece of pie. Watching him lope through this campaign, never losing his cool, never being anything but the courteous, smiling southern boy, it's easy to see why those (*cough* Chris Matthews *cough*) who are impressed by swagger and bellicosity and guys who stuff socks into the crotch of their flightsuit might think Edwards is a wuss. But the more I see of him navigating the minefield of a mainstream media that sits bold upright in a cold sweat of terror at night at the mere thought that he could possibly win this thing, the more faith I have that this guy could take on just about anything.
I'm not saying there isn't a fair amount of political calculation in the way the Edwards Family Persona is presented. But is it calculation when you just use what you've got? Elizabeth is out there playing Bad Cop, with her rumpled hair and her nondescript soccer mom clothes that make her indistinguishable from anyone you'll see at your local Kohl's store today and her compelling personal story and her own ability to charm. This leaves her husband free to chart the course of uplift and change and put up with the likes of Candy Crowley.
Aucun commentaire:
Enregistrer un commentaire