I have to admit, when I read this diary and the accompanying *Rolling Stone* article begging Gore to run, and don't forget this diary, and this diary, and this diary too, I start feeling swoony about the prospect of a Gore candidacy, just as I do whenever I read the giddily delusional Gore diaries that daily grace Dailykos. He's a deeply committed, decent, moral person (as is Tipper), and he is the perfect President for these times--both idealistic and pragmatic, experienced but now free, wise and self-effacing. Damn-it, he SHOULD be President!
But I sometimes wonder if we want a Gore candidacy because he's not running. Because let's face facts in the middle of our collective swooniness. . .
- He's not a good campaigner, and he likely won't be a great campaigner in 2008. I can see him better on the stump, but not in debates, where he comes across as a sanctimonious wonkbot (viz. "what about the Dingle-Norwood bill"?). And now Gore's the kid in school who knew the answer while you were flunking your Iraq test. (See #2)
- Americans don't like people who are right, and who are right from reason, and who are consistently and, from most Americans' perspective, creepily prescient in their undeniable rightness. And if you happen to be right in America, you better be right due to reasons outside of your mind: you’re right because of a hunch, your gut, an instinct, an accident, God, your mama–anything but careful study, which is very prideful and in poor taste. For most Americans, rightness makes one French.
- His looks aren't consumer friendly any more (as are those of Edwards and Obama), and we're in a yet more consumer-driven marketplace now than in the consumer-frenzy of 2000, despite the seriousness of 9/11, Iraq, and global warming. We could be facing World War III, flotillas of angry Iraqis could be heading towards our shores, Nevada might be beach-front property, but damn-it-all we will not elect a man who doesn’t have a decent head of hair to be our President. How will Gore’s plastered back hair, glossy face, chubbiness, lack of eyebrows, and sing-song told-you-so speech play in the ruthless cosmetics politics of the last eight years? People will have to be very, very tired of politics as usual to elect him. Or he’ll have to run against McCain, who in the past two years has, in fact, become Gollum. And Gore can beat Gollum, no matter how much he wants that damned ring.
- He was so tarred by the media in 2000-2003 that I'm not sure how much of the electorate he can win back now. They look at Al and they see a caricature.
- Because in 2000 he couldn’t lie authentically, like Bill Clinton. Gore can only lie inauthentically, which is bad manners for a politician.
- If he loses again, he’ll trigger the first internet mass suicide in world history.
In sum: Cassandra gets killed; she doesn't get to be the next Agamemnon.
And yet. . . I want him to run. Badly. Despite the ridicule he still gets, despite his clumsiness as a candidate, despite the collective groan from the non-blog world that might accompany an announcement, despite his inability to be suitably reduced to a sound-byte.
I’d even abandon Edwards, his perfect hair, his wonderful wife, and his amazing language of justice for the left behind, though he’s needed for America too, because I’m convinced that Al Gore could save our democracy. It’s an illogical, instinctive, visceral response to a man who has become great because he lost and because he had nothing to lose. I want Gore to run because I’m convinced that Gore cares more about issues than himself, cares more about preserving democracy than preserving his legacy, cares more about ensuring the world has a future than ensuring that he’ll have a political future. I want him to run because when the nation was losing its mind, Gore found his soul.
And so I’m back where I started again, all agog with anticipation, and ready to throw down everything to work for Gore.
But wait, Al, wait. Wait until the last possible minute you can wait, so that the very lateness, the improbability of your announcement and the excitement and novelty it generates becomes the saleable consumer commodity, so that the media will feast upon that novelty, rather than retreading the same tired stories about stiffness, about your beard, about your weight. Take a tip from Apple "inc." You’re a board-member, so you know how it goes. Sit tight. Wait. Hold your cards close. And then unveil a new product that dazzles by its daring and its innovation. You need a new user-friendly politics: not just a canned and creepy internet announcement, but an internet phenomenon, not a living room "chat," but a living room revolution. When you announce, if you announce, don’t unveil the candidacy of Al Gore. Unveil a new way of running for President. Unveil a new politics.
So sit tight, Al. Wait. For as long as you can.
And then come back to save this country.
When you do, you’ll have an army ready.
(Oh damn. . . I’ve written your giddily delusional Gore diary for the hour, haven’t I?)
What the hell--swoon away.