In the mid-90s, Extreme Championship Wrestling out of Philadelphia became famous for its hardcore fans, who packed the ECW arena and were merciless in their critique. When two skilled wrestlers were going at it, they would chant “THIS MATCH RULES.” And when somebody blew their spot or missed a move, they were relentless: “YOU FUCKED UP, YOU FUCKED UP.”
Tonight, the entire political world watched the Big Dog eat one more time, and as one voice they chanted (or ruefully admitted) THIS SPEECH RULES.
Brother Bill’s One Man Traveling Salvation Show rolled into Charlotte tonight, and I say that on purpose. Many policy wonks and those who wished they were have tried to sell their ideas to the American public. Paul Ryan is merely the latest in a long line of smart guys who thought they would sell their plan and people would see how smart they were and go along with it. Ryan suffers partly because his plan is full of shit and falls apart when examined closely, but who on Earth can make people examine it closely? (“Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow” hits) OH MAH GOD THAT’S PRESIDENT CLINTON’S MUSIC!!
Because the only three people in the mass media era who could compete with the Arkansas Traveler are all dead in the ground, and I don’t know if Reagan, Churchill or FDR could spend 48 minutes going off script, playing the crowd like a harp, and simultaneously explaining with figures and math just how flawed the other team’s argument was while building a case for his own side. As it is, Clinton’s revival-preacher shtick kept plenty of people sufficiently rapt to hear, digest, and comprehend the case against the GOP and for Obama’s re-election.
And it didn’t necessarily have to go down like this. Much has been made of the gulf between 42 and 44 during the 2008 race and after, and the halting steps to try to come to some sort of reconciliation. But when Team Romney pushed all their chips in on a deceitful ad that tried to tie Romney to Clinton’s welfare reform and paint Obama as undermining it…they made it personal for Bill Clinton. And Bill Clinton is a man who takes everything very, very personally.
So what could have been a perfunctory (by Clintonian standards) routine ego bath and afterthought endorsement (think Chris Christie at Tampa) got turned into a better part of an hour with Bill Clinton, a shotgun, a barrel, and two very slow fish. And he just…kept…shooting.
Tomorrow is another day. Always is. But tonight, the political world looks at Team Romney and chants “YOU FUCKED UP.”
Aaaaaaaaa-men, brutha! Preach it!
That was, without a doubt, the best speech given by anyone, anywhere during my lifetime. I almost (key word: almost) feel sorry for the people who aren’t on his side. It sucks to be them! hahahaha, tough shit.