The Last Word (I Hope) on Kerry (from Rigorous Intuition)

American politics isn’t just theatre; it’s dinner theatre, on par with a Medieval Times franchise. It can put on a decent show: the way the white and black knights joust you’d think they meant it, and that the guy who falls off his horse really gets hurt and the champion wins something of meaning. Voters are “treated like royalty” – every man a king! – but their crowns are made of tissue paper. And while the menu is all you can eat, all you can order is bullshit.

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For instance, John Kerry’s accustomed clutch performance. While uselessly stumping in California for designated sap Phil Angelides, Kerry horks a virtual gob in the eye of America’s volunteer army, as if to scream “Over here!” to the Republicans’ sputtering Noise Machine. It’s enough to make even the relentlessly conventional Wonkette suggest, if only for rhetoric’s sake, that “it’s like the White House is paying Kerry to be out in public screwing things up.”

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Like I wrote a couple of years ago, watching an earlier Kerry flame-out, “Skull and Bones remains to some a silly issue, but an issue it will remain so long as the question ‘Do you know General Russell?’ can send an old boy into a trance faster than ‘Why don’t you pass the time by playing a little solitaire?'”

We can’t say that Kerry took the call. We can only judge his actions, which appear to be those of a man who knows his part well.