Sat - November 6, 2004

Watching Kerry's speech, I couldn't help thinking: Where was this guy during the election? It was if having suddenly shed the duty to seem human, at ease, strong, and likable, he was suddenly all four. I felt the same way about Al Gore's swan song in 2000. If the tenor of Gore's campaign had been embodied by the style of his concession speech, rather than by the essence of stale Milk Duds, I'd have flown to Florida to vote for him twice. Or maybe for Buchanan; I'm not so good with chads.

Let's face it, fellow Democrats. We don't just need better campaign strategies; we need campaign proctologists.

If we keep nominating men like Dukakis, Gore, and Kerry—secular, academics in love with ideas and particularly in love with the idea that they are men of significance—we'll lose the presidency every time. Those fellows aren't men of the people; they're men who think their destiny is to lead the people. They exude the stale mustiness of library bookshelves without the passion of the great literature those libraries contain.

"I don't understand," a radio caller complained on a local liberal talk show this week, "how with so many challenges in the world that require real solutions, Americans could vote to reelect Bush on the basis of moral values and his faith."

The simple answer: Faith matters. America was founded by the faithful, and Americans are still more comfortable being led by men who share their big ideals than by men who want to bring them big ideas. Americans favor politicians whose personal characteristics jibe with their view of the national character: mighty but generous, fallible but well-intentioned, independent but approachable, thoughtful but god-fearing. It's not that we want our presidents to be common men—we want them to be something greater than ourselves—it's that we never want them to act as if they know it.

We need to cultivate an entirely new breed of Democratic candidate.

One unafraid to show passion.

One willing to express deep and abiding faith.

One guided by a consistent set of moral principles.

One whose humility is as evident as its dipomacy.

One whose politics better represents centrist American ideals.

Because Americans don't see themselves as actuaries; they see themselves—for better or for worse—as a people of action and principle. And there is plenty of room for action and for principle in the Democratic platform.

"In an American election," John Kerry said as he conceded, "there are no losers, because whether or not our candidates are successful, the next morning we all wake up as Americans. And that -- that is the greatest privilege and the most remarkable good fortune that can come to us on earth."

Amen to that sentiment and idealism, John. Just a little too late.