So, a friend of mine noted that I hadn't acknowledged Obama's win on ye blogge, and took that as a likely sign that I was dead; he's a shrewd judge of character, no mistake, but the
still more ugly truth was that thunderstorms hit as I was shaking off the procrastination, and the local power company decided that the proper response was twenty-three hours of darkness. I come to you now emotionally traumatized, but more deeply in love with electricity than ever before.
Anyway, nobody who's connected enough to read this actually needs to see me say it (as it were), but I'm much too narcissistic to care: Barack Obama did indeed crawl across the finish line, with Senator Clinton chewing strenuously on his ankle, and now the matter is settled. The lady's official concession . . .
[Well, actually, it's probably going to be more "endorsement" than "concession." She's highly resistant to conceding, as a practice, and I expect the optics and the language to be consistent with that.]
. . . is due on Saturday, whereupon there won't be any major figures out there pretending we aren't now in the general election phase. That counts as a triumph.
In fact, it's a huge one. The last several weeks have been politically bloody, but one happy consequence is that the popular narrative of Obama's campaign has shifted from the rather condescending themes of the early spring; nobody's accusing him of gliding by on a gentle wave of oratory anymore. Last year, we know now, he and his team pulled together a long-shot strategy for maximizing the delegate difference in states they could win and minimizing the difference in the major ones that would go to Clinton, and they turned out to be disciplined enough to stick with it through political cycles that almost demanded panic, and now we can say that it worked. It's something no other Democrat has managed on a national scale in the last decade, and in cold political terms it bodes
really well for the fall - particularly since McCain's crew is reputedly almost schizophrenically torn between proponents of an extremely risky decentralized campaign plan and advocates of a more conventional top-down system. Add to that the money differences, the troubles with lobbyists, the staff turnovers - after the monomaniacally aggressive focus of the Bush-era Republicans, this seems very strange to say, but I'm expecting the Democrats to have huge advantages in organizational structure and message discipline this time around.
Hoorah!
Still, I've missed Obama himself in the last couple of months.
Or, no, I've missed the speeches. Maybe he's been making them, and they're just not as newsworthy as they were, or maybe the post-"elitist" campaign tactics have involved fewer national-scale rhetorical set pieces and more pseudo-conversational campaigning. Either way, the part of the message that transcends his own campaign - that politics can be inspirational, and even exalting - was harder to hear in the weeks leading up to his Tuesday night speech. It's not that I want him to advertise himself as a messianic figure - in fact, his recent comments to AIPAC about an "undivided Jerusalem" (though since
disavowed) should probably be taken as a sad but healthy reminder that he's not politically pure as the driven snow - but rather that I think it's just insanely healthy to have someone out there reminding the American people that they themselves are direct participants in history, and can work to improve what's coming, and that that's
really damn exciting.
Tuesday's speech was a proud return to form, even if it was overshadowed in the press by astonishment at Clinton's advanced case of denial and stuttering bafflement at McCain's rather poorly considered effort to out-speak Obama on Obama's own night, and I hope we get more of it. Soon.
But, for now, for this moment, I think we can all afford to relax and to bask in the waves of contentment emanating from Andrew Sullivan.