Previously on TheAngryPen:

09-12-2000 2 Parties

08-18-2000 Al’s Acceptance

08-10-2000 Gore’s Choice

08-03-2000 The American Dream

07-20-2000 History and Hollywood

07-13-2000 40 Acres and a Mule

07-06-2000 The God We Trust

06-29-2000 Lyrical Assault

06-15-2000 Bank Fees

06-07-2000 A Mixture Often of Incongruous Elements

05-24-2000 Social Security

05-17-2000 Governmental Good Intentions

05-10-2000 Johnny Reb and Disgusting Fatbodies

05-03-2000 Low Fidelity

04-26-2000 Jackboots and Black Helicopters

04-19-2000 Movie Trailers

04-12-2000 All Things Cuban

04-05-2000 Censorship

03-29-2000 Juries and Tobacco

03-22-2000 Several Things

03-15-2000 Gore the Reformer

03-08-2000 Mission to Mars

03-08-2000 Super Tuesday

03-03-2000 Little Johnny Murderer

03-01-2000 Bob Jones

02-23-2000 The Christian Coalition

02-16-2000 Valentine's Day

02-09-2000 Short-Sighted Political Parties

02-02-2000 Mosh Pits

01-12-2000 Al Gore's Personality

11-17-1999 Playboy

09-02-1999 The Demise of Heavy Metal

	TheAngryPen vs. Al Gore's Personality

In his book The Best and the Brightest, David Halberstam recounts a joke the Dean Acheson wing of the Democratic party used to tell amongst themselves as they pushed for Jack Kennedy to choose an acceptable Secretary of State in the midst of the heated 1960 Presidential campaign. The joke, designed to torpedo a candidate considered indecisive by Acheson and Co., the venerable Adlai Stevenson, paints this scene: "Stevenson about to give a speech and being told that he would go on in five minutes, asking an aide 'Do I have time to go to the bathroom?' Being assured that he did, then asking "Do I want to go to the bathroom?'"

Al Gore proves that history is not an original act.

Gore wants to be President so badly that, it seems, there is nothing he won't do, up-to-and-including being disingenuous about who he really is, in order to get your vote. He has become the wind vane of the modern political process. He changes his clothes, he changes his views, he moves closer to the right, then back to the left. Like a shoe salesman, with each successive public appearance he seems to be saying to us, the electorate "Oh, you don't like me in a sandal, well what do you think of me in a pump?"

Americans as a rule, are mistrustful of social chameleons, as well we should be. If you'll do anything, you stand for nothing. Lawyers, agents, used car salesmen and others who pander to people's whims in order to get their business, are the butt of many of our jokes. "Brown noser" and "teacher's pet" are not terms of endearment in the American lexicon. It seems disingenuous somehow, to behave that way. Like that kid in high school who believed that he could win your respect and admiration simply by volunteering to be the hall monitor. Life just doesn't work that way.

Just ask Dan Rather. There is an interesting story set in the years following the retirement of Walter Kronkite when a young Dan Rather struggled to prove to his inherited audience that he was worthy of the same respect they'd given his predecessor. Legend has it that one early attempt to shore up his sagging ratings had him shedding his stodgy suit for a cardigan sweater. What Dan (or at least his PR advisors) apparently didn't consider was that a cardigan was not likely to change the fact that audiences just didn't trust him in the same way that they trusted Kronkite. This was a function of several intangible things. Maybe it was his youth, his relative inexperience, or his on-air "smarmy little know-it-all" attitude. But none of these things are as easily quantifiable as "Well Dan, the suit just makes ya look stuffy", and PR folks are famous for their inability to deal with image issues that go deeper than the surface. So, the bright yellow cardigan, predictably, did little to change people's opinion of young Dan. Rather (sorry for the pun), the young anchor was forced to go out and prove he wanted the job and, more importantly, that he could do the job; something I often wish Gore would spend a lot more time doing.

Instead, Gore trades suits for open-collared shirts. He shouts and slams his fist on podiums to convince us that there is fire in his belly (one that never seemed to be there before I might add); to show that he wants to be President more than anyone else in the field. But the question on my mind, as the almost-daily image changes continue to assault me helter-skelter, is not "Do you want to be President?" but "Why do you want to be President?" That's what we want to know Al. What drives you to seek the office, other than a feeling that it's your turn? I wonder sometimes, if you even know anymore.

Personally, I would have much more respect for a man who reveled in the fact that he's maybe not as flashy as the competition. I'd still poke fun at him, but I'd respect it dammit. But, like an anorexic teenage girl who can't see past her own distorted self-image to understand what is really going on in her life, Al seems fixated on convincing people that he can be flashy and exciting too, often at the expense of the more important issues that face his campaign. Issues like how he would be a different President from, say, George Dubya, his presumed opponent in November. Perhaps Al and his handlers are using these image issues to distract themselves from the fact that they don't know the answer to that question either.

There's a classic joke in an episode of the Simpsons where Bart shows off a talking Al Gore doll he just purchased. He pulls the string on the doll's back and we hear Al, at his stiffest, robotic, monotonal best, say "you…are hearing me talk." Face it Al, when your personality, or lack thereof, becomes the basis for a Simpsons joke, it's time to accept the reality that this personality has officially become a part of the historical record. The point is this: You can shout all you want Al, but we've been watching you work for seven years now and we know you pretty well.

You're not fooling anyone.

Angry Pen out  

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