The Heck with Substance

"Monday in Albuquerque, John McCain delivered an excellent speech that finally made the case that Barack Obama and the Democrats are primarily responsible for the current financial crisis," says Power Line's John Hinderaker. "McCain contrasted his own record, particularly as it related to Fannie and Freddy, with Obama's blank slate. He also accused Obama of a lack of leadership in the current crisis. The guts of McCain's speech related to the economy, but he made his economic points in the context of the broader question, 'who is the real Barack Obama?' Again and again, McCain argued, Obama's deeds don't match his words . . .

"But if you rely on the mainstream media for your news, you probably have no idea that McCain gave an important speech on the economy . . . The Associated Press headlined, "Character attacks emerge in McCain-Obama race." The AP's focus was on the negativity that was engaged in by both campaigns yesterday. In one sentence, the AP did at least acknowledge that McCain had referred to economic issues:

In Albuquerque, N.M., McCain delivered an unusually scathing broadside. He accused Obama of lying about McCain's efforts to regulate the home loan industry. And he suggested Obama is a mysterious figure who cannot be trusted.

But that's it: no discussion of the substance of McCain's speech."

But it's a fact of modern campaigning: If you want attention for a policy speech, you don't put out an ad that day calling your opponent a liar while your running mate tries to link him to a onetime terrorist.

On the what-if-McCain-loses front, Michael Schaffer muses about his future relationship with the media in this New Republic piece:

"John McCain recently took a shot at a reliable political target: The Georgetown cocktail party. In an interview with the Des Moines Register's editorial board, McCain dismissed the idea that some conservatives might be worried about his running mate's qualifications. 'If there's a Georgetown cocktail party person who, quote, calls himself a conservative who doesn't like her, good luck,' he snapped.

"McCain is surely not the first popular D.C. social figure to knock the hostesses and party-goers of 30th and N. But these days, the feeling is reciprocal: As the Republican's campaign has lurched from negative ads to faux controversies over the past month, he's found himself in the unusual position of being scolded by a group he has jokingly called his political base: The centrist establishmentarians of Washington journalism.

"With varying degrees of certainty and no shortage of chagrin, a host of onetime McCain media groupies have publicly abandoned their seats in the horseshoe-shaped couch aboard the Straight Talk Express. 'He has become the sort of politician he once despised,' declares The Washington Post's once-smitten Richard Cohen. 'John McCain is not a principled man. In fact, it's not clear who he is,' writes Elizabeth Drew, a woman who wrote a broadly positive 2002 book about who McCain is. 'I just can't wait for the moment when John McCain -- contrite and suddenly honorable again in victory or defeat -- talks about how things got a little out of control in the passion of the moment,' grumbles Joe Klein, who'd earlier predicted that McCain's nomination would assure an honorable fall campaign, but has spent much of the season denouncing the senator for various acts of dishonor . . .

"All this opprobrium! Will McCain never sip a martini in Georgetown again? Don't bet on it. As furious as a herd of admonishing columnists may sound when they're in high dudgeon, the scorn of the commentariat is highly impermanent. Win or lose, McCain should be safely back in the media's good graces by this time next year. And I suspect that apology Klein envisioned may not even be necessary."

Some liberal ladies are still conflicted over Palin, as we see in this Nation piece by Linda Hirshman:

"I have been feeling really guilty about not liking Sarah Palin. She's independent, her husband helps raise the kids, she's worked most of her life. I should luv her. But the minute she minced on stage in St. Louis Thursday, with her shoulder-length hair and stiletto heels, I realized why I don't: She's The Rules Girl.

"Remember The Rules: Time-Tested Secrets for Capturing the Heart of Mr. Right, Ellen Fein's and Sherry Schneider's explosively controversial 1995 book that upended thirty years of feminist teaching about dating? Forget all that equality and intelligence stuff, The Rules advised. Who wants to be Hillary Clinton? Men are simple, attracted to sexual symbols and bright, shiny objects. If you want them, they argued, you must sport long hair and wear sexy, attention-getting clothes. The suit Palin wore for the debate was some amazingly iridescent material, and she sported an eye-popping sparkly rhinestone flag pin. The Governor as the It Girl of the Nineties' singles scene.

"As the capital-letter Rules recommend, Palin seems Never to Leave the House Without Makeup. And, so far in this campaign, she has scrupulously followed The Rules for dealing with mainstream media suitors: Rarely Return Their Calls. Always End the Date First. Never Make a Date for Saturday Night after a Wednesday Date. Never Make a Date for Meet the Press at all."