"The Kiss Of Death" in GQ - The Real Story Behind the Primary Campaign
(Read the full GQ article here and then forward it to your friends below.)
You watched it on the news and read it in the papers, reported on every outlet from your local hometown paper to CNN and MSNBC.
But the cable news anchors and reporters didn't tell you the half of what really went on.
In a revealing piece for the October issue of GQ Magazine, reporter Kenneth Cain tells the real story of the primary race after following both sides around:
Sen. Lieberman's completely energy-less and made-for-TV bus tour. His campaign's (hired?) thugs trying to start physical altercations with Lamont staff and supporters. His inability to complete a coherent thought on Iraq. And more:
Scroll below to read excerpts of the article and then forward it to your friends. Read the full GQ article here.
From the article:
The most fascinating thing in politics is the intersection between a grave policy question and an individual leader’s personality. In my opinion, there’s a major psychodrama playing out in Joe’s head about Iraq. He aborts every sentence that implies a concession that he made a mistake. It’s like his conscience starts to get just a bit ahead of his pride, and then the hubris races to catch up and tackles the concession midsentence. After a month of interviews, I’m convinced many voters generally like Joe and that he could have taken the wind out of Ned’s sails by simply saying he miscalculated in his optimism on the outcome of the war and asked for voters’ forbearance. That he refuses to pay them that respect infuriates people. He may just lose his career over the simple human inability to concede a possible mistake. Interesting.
It also focuses on Ned Lamont's rise from an inexperienced campaigner into the unlikely vessel for the aspirations of a record turnout of Connecticut voters thirsting for a change from politics as usual:
Jesse Jackson is here to do what Maxine and Al have done before—explain to Bethel AME why it should trust the “Greenwich millionaire,” as Lieberman’s ads repeatedly dub Ned. “People say Mr. Lamont got some money,” Jesse says. “Can he relate to poor people? Well, lotta poor people can’t relate to poor people!” The line gets a laugh, and then Jesse starts to rev it up. “Judge a tree by the fruit it bears,” he tells the crowd. “When he teaches in public schools, I like that kinda fruit! When he’s for universal health care, I like that kinda fruit! End the war in Iraq? I say: We like that kinda fruit!” Done. They’re screaming and pounding their feet. Jesse just delivered this congregation to Ned Lamont. “We’ll be measured on Wednesday morning by who worked on Tuesday,” he goes on. “It’s work time! Walk your block. It’s work time! Knock on doors. It’s work time! School or jails? It’s work time! End a war of choice? It’s work time! Tuesday is End the War Day! C’mon, church people, stand up! End the war! Stand up!”
It’s easy to get caught up in the emotion and exaggerate what was just a fleeting moment, but I’m here to report that I saw Ned Lamont transformed in that church. You could see it on his flushed face, in his posture. His role as quixotic underdog is officially over. When he rises to speak, a fuller voice comes from him. The rhythm and cadence have changed. He skillfully builds to his applause lines. He includes a call-and-answer riff that comes out as natural as it is new: “We’ve gotta make up our minds,” he hollers. “What are we gonna tell the country? Do we stay the course in Iraq, or do we change course?” The crowd yells Change! “Do we leave our troops there, or do we bring ’em home?” Home!
It's really one of the most colorful descriptions yet of the campaign that captured the nation's attention on a hot day in August.
Read the full GQ article here.