It’s not easy even you’re not pathological -- and in the case of Howie Dean all bets are now off.
In honor of Howard Dean, perhaps John Edwards will slip another
line into his "two Americas" stump speech. It would go something
like this, "In so many ways, we still live in two Americas. There
is one America for politicians who can fail and fail again, and
continue to be celebrated in the media, while ordinary Americans
are forced to actually succeed before being showered with
praise."
After a third place finish in Wisconsin last night, Dean is a
17-time loser and a zero-time winner, but the press continues to be
almost as fixated on the former governor of Vermont as he is on
himself. Six weeks after his spectacular crash and burn, one of the
major questions posed to panels on all the cable networks last
night was, "What happened to Dean?" as if his irrelevancy as a
candidate was news. Despite his complete record of failure, Howie
continues to get credit from pundits for having run a "brilliant"
campaign, even if those same pundits are placing their money on
Kerry now
Of course, it's a different kind of "brilliant" than is used in
common parlance, and it must have been in play only until votes
were cast. His performance since people started voting -- not
winning a single state, blowing through $40 million, exploding like
an unattended pressure cooker on primary night in Iowa -- has not
been stellar.
Recently, the Dean campaign has gotten downright pathological.
Two weeks ago, Howie called Wisconsin a "must win" state, and said
he would bow out should he lose there. On primary day, far behind
in the polls, he seemed offended that anyone might expect him to
keep that promise.
"I think the campaign obituaries that some of you are writing
are a little bit misplaced," he scolded reporters at during one
campaign stop. Later in the day Dean became even bolder. "This
isn't done yet," he said. "I'm in this to win. We have more
delegates to the convention that anybody else except John Kerry,
and we think we can overhaul him in the Super Tuesday
primaries."
Someone should ask Dean exactly what he means by "we." All signs
from the campaign indicate an exodus of staffers Wednesday morning,
and Dean himself has no set schedule beyond Tuesday night.
LAST NIGHT ON Hardball, Chris Matthews brought out former
Dean campaign manager/guru Joe Trippi, gushing that he had "changed
everything" in political campaigning by utilizing the Internet for
fundraising and grassroots organizing. Trippi, forced out in the
wake of debacles in New Hampshire and Iowa, was unemployed less
than a week before being snatched up as a political analyst for
MSNBC. Instead of sifting precinct returns, Trippi spent the night
spinning who the "real" winners and losers were in Wisconsin and
handicapping the race for us poor saps at home.
Predictably, he never strayed very far from the tired line that
Dean had remade the Democrats and brought "millions" of new people
into the party. Strangely, no one on the Hardball panel
bothered asking Trippi why the Democrats fled from Dean for the
much more moderate Kerry. Or why the "millions" of new voters
haven't been much help to Dean.
Or -- to be more pointed -- what brilliant insight he, as the
campaign manager who presided over one of the most dramatic
campaign implosions in primary history, can be expected to deliver.
Trippi, like his former boss, remains as much a celebrity as he was
two months ago when the Dean Machine was thought to be
unstoppable.
It is simple to see why the media continue to be fascinated by
Dean. For reporters following him around, he provides controversy,
which makes for good copy. No reporter in his right mind would
prefer to follow Kerry around for the next eight months, and just
try to envision the boredom of a Kerry presidency would generate.
It's absolutely chilling.
ALSO, THE UPSETS in Iowa and New Hampshire made this race look like
it would be much more exciting than it's become. Few expected
Kerry's early wins would translate into such a commanding lead. But
it has, and even fewer people still speak of a deadlocked
convention. But imagine how much fun it would have been to watch
those fisticuffs and you'll get some idea why we ink-stained
wretches are still so drawn to the idea of a Dean candidacy.
But, alas, future presidential candidates will not study the
Dean campaign in order to try and re-create its magic. They will
bone up on it to avoid its failings. It will become a parable, a
joy-killing warning to every presidential hopeful riding high in
the polls, or swimming in cash, or endorsed by everybody and his
brother: This all could disappear at any moment.
Now if only Howard Dean could find the good sense to the same.
There are worse fates than accepting the voters' verdict and riding
off into that cool Vermont sunset.
About the Author
Shawn Macomber is a contributing editor to The American Spectator.