I watched the debates while working late tonight, and I think this was the night that Hillary unofficially lost the election. She'd fallen out of my favor weeks previously when Bill made the questionable reference to Jesse Jackson back in South Carolina, but I don't think she actually lost until tonight. Compare Obama's calm, collected, emotional and rational approach to her defensive, angry one; one is the behavior of a leader, and the other is not.
When Obama won Iowa, I got choked up seeing his acceptance speech. And it's not just because I like most of his policies or that the man knows a nice ass when he sees one. (I kid, I kid.) Seeing the one-time underdog there with his wife and daughters made me so happy that finally, there was a possibility of change, a possibility that someone other than, well, a white dude, would be in charge.
Although she would have also been a groundbreaking candidate—at least on the patriarchy-smashing tip—Hillary never stirred that sort of inspiration in me. While I don't need a politician to be inspiring, I'd at least like to admire the way she leads. Years ago I saw her speak at Umich, and she was intelligent, articulate, funny, great. But her behavior during the campaign has not been that of a good leader; she's been alternately vicious and vulnerable, gracious and cutthroat. Her policies are very different from those of Dipshit Bushie, but her inability to admit mistakes reminded me so much of him.
And yet. I trust Hillary about as far as I can throw her, but in a way, I mourn her eventual defeat. If there's one thing we've seen with this campaign, it's that she was systematically, consistently treated differently from other candidates because of her gender. The comments on her "cackle." Rush Limbaugh's misogynist ramblings about whether she looked too old. Blame for being too emotional, blame for not being emotional enough. Having to do a story for Us Weekly — a tabloid! — about her worst looks over the years. And so on. And so I have to admire her for her perseverance, for her ability to laugh off the "jokes" made at her expense, and to continue on. So even though she wasn't my candidate, I feel a little defeated myself.
When Obama won Iowa, I got choked up seeing his acceptance speech. And it's not just because I like most of his policies or that the man knows a nice ass when he sees one. (I kid, I kid.) Seeing the one-time underdog there with his wife and daughters made me so happy that finally, there was a possibility of change, a possibility that someone other than, well, a white dude, would be in charge.
Although she would have also been a groundbreaking candidate—at least on the patriarchy-smashing tip—Hillary never stirred that sort of inspiration in me. While I don't need a politician to be inspiring, I'd at least like to admire the way she leads. Years ago I saw her speak at Umich, and she was intelligent, articulate, funny, great. But her behavior during the campaign has not been that of a good leader; she's been alternately vicious and vulnerable, gracious and cutthroat. Her policies are very different from those of Dipshit Bushie, but her inability to admit mistakes reminded me so much of him.
And yet. I trust Hillary about as far as I can throw her, but in a way, I mourn her eventual defeat. If there's one thing we've seen with this campaign, it's that she was systematically, consistently treated differently from other candidates because of her gender. The comments on her "cackle." Rush Limbaugh's misogynist ramblings about whether she looked too old. Blame for being too emotional, blame for not being emotional enough. Having to do a story for Us Weekly — a tabloid! — about her worst looks over the years. And so on. And so I have to admire her for her perseverance, for her ability to laugh off the "jokes" made at her expense, and to continue on. So even though she wasn't my candidate, I feel a little defeated myself.
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