Special Feuding Edition

All politics is personal.

And it's getting really personal out there.

Amid the swirling headlines -- banking stress tests, spending cuts, judicial nominees, health-care reform, battling the Taliban -- are people who have become symbols, people whom we can praise or pulverize, depending on our predilections.

The media, of course, thrive on personal conflict. Think of last year's campaign: Jeremiah Wright, Bill Ayers, Sarah Palin, Joe the Plumber. Or look at the uproar over Octomom. Some folks willingly step into the searing spotlight, others are unexpectedly dragged there.

Names have always made news, but in today's often mean-spirited culture, the debate can quickly turn to extramarital affairs, teenage pregnancy and nude photos, not to mention charges of personal betrayal. Sometimes we lose sight that these are real people, not piñatas.

At the same time, it's hard to feel sorry for someone who is making every effort to capitalize on the controversy.

Take Elizabeth Edwards, who was on Oprah yesterday. She's pushing a book, as you know, about her resilience in the face of a) cancer, and b) her husband's affair with an ex-campaign aide. There is a national consensus that John Edwards, former presidential candidate, is a creep. But now his wife is drawing flak as well, not just for appearing to merchandize the situation, but for her admission that she knew about the affair throughout his run.

At the Daily Beast, Kathleen Parker explains what is bugging people about the belated confession:

"As for Elizabeth, well, a book tour is designed to sell books, isn't it? And nothing sells like the sordid mess of a fallen man, another woman, and a love-baby born in the midst of a presidential campaign. . . . Let's shed our guilt and keep in mind that Elizabeth Edwards is the one who reopened this door. . . .

"Elizabeth was an integral part of her husband's campaign and knew of the affair, about which both later dissembled. She may have an overburdened heart, but part of that load surely is her own ambition. Although Elizabeth claims to have asked her husband not to run after he told her of the affair, is it really credible that he did it anyway, without her consent? Or that he talked her into it against her will? . . .

"It must be recognized that Elizabeth's first priority was helping her husband get to the White House. Her formidable, brave presence on the campaign trail was John's armor. As long as she was there, his innocence was assumed. Family unity? Or conspiracy to commit public fraud?"

And that's the thing. Edwards conveyed the image of a happy marriage that was a considerable asset to her husband's campaign, when that was anything but the truth.