The Good, the Bad, and Joe Lieberman
The Obama tide lifted some clear winners, including polling savant Nate Silver of FiveThirtyEight.com, gun-shop owners, Black Eyed Peas front man will.i.am, MSNBC anchor Rachel Maddow, and, of course, Oprah. As for the losers, Joe Lieberman tops the list.
by James Wolcott February 2009
Vanity Fair
Here on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, the liberal capital of frizzy hair and encyclopedic grudges trailing back to the Spanish Civil War, many of my fellow comrades are still walking around with Obama buttons stuck to their fulsome bosoms. The election is over, victory was achieved, and yet they can’t bring themselves to take off their buttons. They may never take them off. Obama buttons and yes we can actionwear may become classic staples of Manhattan street fashion, like Ramones and CBGB T-shirts. That so many steel-wool cynics have developed a sentimental attachment to Obama buttons is testimony that everybody loves to identify with a winner, especially when they’ve been stigmatized as losers for so long, pelted with peanuts by Rush Limbaugh and every other caroler on the right. Noble failure is fine, until you make a habit of it, then you become a pathetic figure of fun. George McGovern, Jimmy Carter, Al Gore’s loss in 2000, John Kerry’s loss in 2004, the eviction of Dan Rather from CBS, the financial hemorrhaging at The New York Times—each has been draped like an albatross around liberalism’s neck, the musty aroma becoming the signature scent of Nation subscribers, PBS viewers, and Wally Shawn fans. But then Obama won—won big and wide—and the cling of failure dissolved like the vines in The Sleeping Beauty, liberating the sun. Even the Clinton victories didn’t carry such exultation. It was almost scary, seeing so many New Yorkers smiling in the post-election afterglow, using facial muscles long buried under habitual scowling. That’s what winning does—it promotes cellular rejuvenation. Losing, however, results in a leakage of life force, shrinkage under the spotlight. That’s why the Republicans keep trying to tap into the legend of Ronald Reagan, hoping to extract one last vital drop of sap.
(More here.)
by James Wolcott February 2009
Vanity Fair
Here on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, the liberal capital of frizzy hair and encyclopedic grudges trailing back to the Spanish Civil War, many of my fellow comrades are still walking around with Obama buttons stuck to their fulsome bosoms. The election is over, victory was achieved, and yet they can’t bring themselves to take off their buttons. They may never take them off. Obama buttons and yes we can actionwear may become classic staples of Manhattan street fashion, like Ramones and CBGB T-shirts. That so many steel-wool cynics have developed a sentimental attachment to Obama buttons is testimony that everybody loves to identify with a winner, especially when they’ve been stigmatized as losers for so long, pelted with peanuts by Rush Limbaugh and every other caroler on the right. Noble failure is fine, until you make a habit of it, then you become a pathetic figure of fun. George McGovern, Jimmy Carter, Al Gore’s loss in 2000, John Kerry’s loss in 2004, the eviction of Dan Rather from CBS, the financial hemorrhaging at The New York Times—each has been draped like an albatross around liberalism’s neck, the musty aroma becoming the signature scent of Nation subscribers, PBS viewers, and Wally Shawn fans. But then Obama won—won big and wide—and the cling of failure dissolved like the vines in The Sleeping Beauty, liberating the sun. Even the Clinton victories didn’t carry such exultation. It was almost scary, seeing so many New Yorkers smiling in the post-election afterglow, using facial muscles long buried under habitual scowling. That’s what winning does—it promotes cellular rejuvenation. Losing, however, results in a leakage of life force, shrinkage under the spotlight. That’s why the Republicans keep trying to tap into the legend of Ronald Reagan, hoping to extract one last vital drop of sap.
(More here.)
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