By DAVID BEILSTEIN
PARSING the internet sites after the RNC keynote address tonight’s been fun. Pure entertainment.
Seems like one thing to take away from comments by folks knowing more than I do—which is a lot of people!—is that New Jersey Governor Chris Christie is getting too big for his sizeable britches. Look, I too was once a large fat ass, so it’s not like I’m being insensitive. I’ve been fat and thin and fat and thin again… thin is more comfy, thanks.
The worry, however, is whether Christie is becoming a repetitive blowhard. I smell the hint of the overblown ego, the odor of government sanctioned bully wafting from his collars and it’s beginning to grow rather thin.
Sure, the keynote speaker is supposed to stoke the fires, scream and yell and pin the jackass who the nominee is running against. In this case, Barry Obama. But from all hints from National Review, Dick Morris, and a host of commenters and writers, Christie missed the back of the mule and talked mainly of himself.
It’s becoming clear why Romney snatched Ryan up. Some negatively said it was because Romney didn’t want to be upstaged. Their mood seemed to tilt toward, “Yeah, but Romney should’ve picked Christie anyway and got over his boring self.”
I don’t think so. I’ve got a dog in the hunt, sure. I’ve never been enamoured with Christie—or politicians generally. They seem to talk a lot of horse manure and shovel very little of it out of the public square. Christie is marching into a war in New Jersey and is to be commended for his courage. But he is loud and obnoxious in many given ways. Sure, he’s thrown some hard punches against unions and overblown pensions, but he also hid in the corner like the fat school yard bully when ObamaCare stormed over the country.
I expect some ego and banter from fighters and sports stars—it’s part of the job. It’s the reason I was elated to MMA fighter Silva elbowed whats-his-name at the weigh-in to the chagrin of some of my more pietistic friends. But that’s the sport, folks. Fighting is violent and the fights happening all the time until the end of the fight. That includes the weigh-in.
But politics is different. We need serious ideas for our epochal times. We can have fun but we always want to undergird our philosophy in the sturdiness of its intellectual pedigree, not cults-of-personality pompously blistering on-and-on about themselves.
I’m conservative by nature, socially conservative by conviction, personally. Still, the RNC has never held much allure for me the more I’ve read deeply of the Founding Fathers and the U.S. Constitution. Like conservative Heavyweight Champion, William F Buckley, I describe myself as libertarian and classically liberal in one breath. There is little of such depth expressed by the Republican Party or what I have termed the mainline conservative movement. Make no mistake, Romney is better than Obama by a country-mile. President Obama is an unmitigated disaster. The ‘Great One’ Mark Levin once said he’d vote for a Pepsi can before voting for Obama. Of course. Change that to a Fanta can of orange soda and I’m side-by-side Mr Levin passionately.
Reading comments on conservative sites reminds me of an old adage: that is, the bully, the blowhard, always goes too far. Yes, the cocky blowhard is like Mike Tyson chasing hussy skirts when he should have been burning up the gym and pounding out roadwork in Tokyo in February, 1990. Some comments seemed to suggest Christie’s speech to be a failure. If this is true the big man from Jersey needs to understand that a big man can only shuck-and-jive so much before he splits his pants down the back in front of a captive audience. This election is too important for it to be a Christie barrage of steamy gas and hot wind—driven by ego and pomp.
It’s about Romney and Obama.
November 6, 2012 is coming. We shall see what transpires on the second Tuesday of that month of thanksgiving and deep fall. If I’m team Obama, I’m scared. I’m hip to the fact Romney may be ahead on the judges scorecard and I’m running out of rounds… fast. If I’m team Romney, I’m confident twofold: confident I’m even or ahead in the polls against a supposedly unbeatable president and confident I was wise enough not to put Chris Christie—an ego-driven jackass—on the ticket with me.