There's No Crying in Politics

Lockhart returns, rested and triumphant. Now to the point.

Somebody needs to tell New Hampshire that there's no crying in politics, or at least the 39% of them who voted for Hillary Clinton over Barack Obama because she got misty-eyed about her daily struggles. Call me old fashioned, but there are two people who should never, never cry: journalists and politicians. Walter Cronkite didn't cry during Vietnam. John F. Kennedy didn't cry during the Cuban Missile Crisis. And, more to the matter, Margaret Thatcher didn't cry when Argentina invaded the Falkland Islands. I don't meant that these figureheads can't feel emotions. Quite to the contrary I want to know that my leaders feel; a bad leader would be preferable to a leader who treats visceral matters with a callous disregard. But it needs to be controlled. If you're the President of the United States, above all you need to appear calm, serious, and unsentimental.

Of course, to say that the spontaneous emotion on Hillary's part was the only factor to her victory in New Hampshire would be a reducto ad absurdum. But if it is a factor at all, it is surely the most ridiculous factor.

After some discussion over doughnuts this morning (purchased with some spare change we found in the couch cushions in the lounge), we've decided that the crying was contrived on Hillary's part. Her campaign suffered early on from the image of Hillary as domineering, ruthless, and ambitious. She didn't even play the "First Woman President" card at first, which actually earned her points in our book (not that those points count for anything). But now this: a ridiculously sentimental Hillary Clinton wooing New Hampshire's female voters to edge out Barack Obama.

If Hillary Clinton has to counter Obama's appeal through cheap political parlor tricks, we are not impressed.

Cheers,

Lockhart