Rick Moran, a blogger I both enjoy, and enjoy irritating occasionally, asks in response to a comment I wrote, why I don't put some effort into convincing my fellow Obama supporters of what he sees as my more reasonable, less romantic appraisal of the man.

Okay.

Listen up, fellow Obama supporters. If you are under the impression that Mr. Obama is anything other than a politician, put down the bong. The papers, too. You don't get into the United States Senate without being a politician. In fact, if by some miracle you were not a politician on the morning you were sworn in as a United States Senator, you will sure as hell be one before your first full day at work comes to an end.

Further, Mr. Obama has just spent the better part of the last year bitch-slapping his party's pre-eminent political machine. From sea to shining sea, Mr. Obama and his people have outwitted, outplayed and outlasted not just Hillary Clinton, but the Big Dog. That's not evidence that Mr. Obama is Mister Rogers. It wasn't magic that made this triumphal procession possible. It wasn't supernatural. It didn't just happen. It wasn't because we all beamed happy thoughts at him. It happened because he put together one hell of a political machine which, again, argues that Mr. Obama may, just may, be a politician.

Will Mr. Obama lie to us? God yes. Will Mr. Obama manipulate us? Of course. Can we trust him? Absolutely. Absolutely. Trust is good. And by the way, my car is for sale, I . . . I only took it out on Sundays and then I never drove it over 45 miles an hour. Trust me.

I don't know that many Obama supporters personally because I don't know that many people personally. Because, as regular readers have noted, I don't actually like, um, humans. (Or dogs. Or cats. So don't take it personally.) So, I don't know for sure whether you folks are the credulous nitwits the Obamabashers seem to think you are, or if you're more like me: burned-out idealists throwing in one last time in the faint hope that we may elect a president who isn't a complete tool.

Are you like me? Are you just hoping for an incomplete tool? Or are you really so naive you think Barack Obama, of Chicago, of the Illinois State Senate, of the United States Senate, is the second coming of . . . of . . . okay, no presidential paragons come to mind. The second coming of, let's go with Fred Rogers. Again. (I'm sorry, a list of moral exemplars does not spring to mind.)

I support Obama for this reason: he promises to reach across the aisle, move away from idiot gotcha partisanship, and try to accomplish something useful. Emphasis on "promises." The fact that he promises this means he will at the very least have to go through the motions of non-partisanship. He will have been elected on that promise. Even if he doesn't mean it (always a distinct possibility) he'll have to at least make an attempt. That's more than we'll get from Hillary, who is ready from day one to start up the same tired old shit.

I am sick to death of the same tired old shit. I think the country is, too. We have three possible candidates at this point: John McCain who is, I'm sorry, the candidate of the past, representing a party in serious need of a long rest; Mrs. Clinton who embodies and defines the same tired old shit; and the new kid who promises it won't be the same old, same old.

Vote for Obama. Hope he's for real. (Hope won't kill you, though it will encourage you to drink.) But man, if you are somehow under the impression that Mr. Obama just came from a conversation with a burning bush and next week will begin curing lepers, (yeah, I know: I'm mixing testaments,) then you need to remind yourself that fulfillment does not come from politicians; it comes from fast cars, good booze, and women who can manage to tolerate you.

This entry was posted by Michael Reynolds, on Saturday, March 15, 2008. You can leave your response.