Wonkette
My friends, this election is not what you think it is. It is not about choosing between two candidates (AND RON PAUL WRITE-IN 4 LBRTY) for the next president. Ha! This election has always been about something more fundamentally innate to the American ethos: how easily newspaper reporters can get access to John McCain on his bus or plane between stops. And in today’s Los Angeles Times, one reporter examines her world-historical role in this tragic Sophoclean drama about the will of the Human against the cultural and political and naturalistic forces of the Gods, who sometimes go a whole week without giving a quickie press avail. If this is navel-gazing, then GAZE WE WILL into the NAVEL OF DARKNESS.
Reporters are the only people in the world who understand, as of now, that this entire election is about them and the obstacles they have to overcome in order to get juicy quotes for their nut grafs. And so John McCain was, until this summer, easily the most important person in the world, forever, for chatting the fourth estate up in his fancy bus salon for several hours a day.
Surely you all can relate to this reporter’s warm experiences in those halcyon days on a very personal level:
By July, I had covered McCain for almost seven months. I could recite many lines of his stump speech by heart, dreamed about his events at night and spent so much time scrolling through campaign e-mails on my BlackBerry that my fiance joked to our friends about the other man in my life.
Over those months, McCain had artfully created a sense of intimacy with the reporters who traveled with him. He barbecued for us at his Arizona cabin, and opened up about matters as personal as his faith and his son’s girlfriends. On one of my first days covering McCain, another reporter protectively warned me that it was important to be judicious with the material I used from McCain’s bus rides to keep the conversations in context.
Although the relationship was mutually beneficial, McCain offered accessibility and openness that was rare, if not unprecedented, in modern presidential politics. Now, as the presidential campaign plunges into its final days, that intimacy — real or imagined — has evaporated.
This “accessibility and openness” is the key to why McCain was such an honest hero of wars. By offering such rare and unlimited access to reporters, reporters were able to pass on loads of important issue-related information to a discriminating American electorate — chiefly, how tangy John McCain’s homemade ribs are and whether McCain’s son will keep hooking up with this new girl he met, probably “Katie,” or get back together with his ex, even if it has to be a long-distance/weekends thing because she is still in college. Imagine deciding your vote without taking this information into account — you’d feel pretty stupid!
Among other significant things the very accessible John McCain told this reporter was where she should consider taking her honeymoon. Where the best deals were.
BUT THEN THE VERY SAD DENOUEMENT OF COURSE:
Later that summer, the frequency of McCain’s news conferences dwindled to late-afternoon, end-of-the-week affairs where he began calling more often on reporters he didn’t know.
We now watched from afar at most events — listening for the few sentences that would change each day in his stump speech. We would catch glimpses of him through the window of his SUV from five cars back in the motorcade or watch him get off the plane.
At the height of vice presidential speculation, we rushed the staff cabin of the plane, frustrated that no one was around to address the rumors.
“What do you want, you little jerks?” McCain said, using his former term of affection, before turning away.
On a recent Sunday during a brief stop at a Virginia phone bank, I got unusually close to McCain in the line of people waiting to shake his hand.
Tape recorder out and within a foot of him, I asked if he could talk about his new economic plan, which he was to unveil that week. The man who once asked me about my wedding date returned my gaze with a stare, shook the hand of the strangers to the right and left of me and continued out the door.
Did McCain’s son decide to keep hooking up with Katie?
We’ll never know.
Consider.
McCain was frank, garrulous, and accessible — and then he wasn’t [LA Times]
Haha, the delusional reporters had such a crush on him that they thought “you little jerks” was a term of endearment.
Reporters are flirty tramps who can’t take signals from a man who’s not interested in them.
She sure SOUNDS like a person boning McCain “on the side.” Bitter, disillusioned, willing to stand for hours by the security gates holding a tape recorder and the memory of good ribs past.
She should anger f&#k Mittens. He’s the one who’s going to “be in charge on Nov. 5th” anyways.
It is plain as the melanoma on McCain’s nose why this reporter fell out of favor with Johnny-McCarpetbagger….. she didn’t get knocked up 7-8 months before she got married!
If this is navel-gazing, then GAZE WE WILL into the NAVEL OF DARKNESS…where we will find the smelly lint of self-aggrandizing delusion.
Walnuts calling anyone little is just plain funny.
First of all, I think a female reporter who has dreamt about McCain’s “events” at night needs to recuse herself.
Second, well done, Jim. Now if you could only work in “tutelage” as a synonym for farting, you’re up for a Pulitzer.
mattbolt: except for those at Wonkette, peace be upon her name, SNARK AKBAR!!!
It’s linty in that navel. Can be used for impromptu spitwads.
(clutching pearls) Quelle tragedie!
One day they are toetapping away in the bathroom stall next to yours. The next they won’t return your calls. I think we have all been there.
Heh. Heh heh. He said “nut grafs.”
Sprinkles, anyone?
What the fuck does she this is? McCain’s Creek?
I don’t wanna wait for this election to be over
I want to know right now what will it be
I don’t wanna wait for this election to be over
Well in the end oh will it be … sorry
(Do do do do do do do .. do do do do do do do)
He showed up all dry
On the rainy front step
Wearing makeup on his face
At the ‘Q he hid his rage inside him still
Ribs so tasty and that damn sauce
The weeks passed by and now he’s an epic fail
This is like when a fluffer learns that the “star” isn’t interested in a long term relationship.
Also, Meghan McCain is getting pretty fat, no? So, whats the deal with that?
It smells like tacos in here. Disgusting.
This has all the makings of a Lifetime movie. “A Woman Scorned” or how John McCain broke up with me after 7 months of covering his campaign. I see Valerie Bertinelli as the reporter.
her world-historical role in this tragic Sophoclean drama about the will of the Human against the cultural and political and naturalistic forces of the Gods, who sometimes go a whole week without giving a quickie press avail. If this is navel-gazing, then GAZE WE WILL into the NAVEL OF DARKNESS. Oh, win, sir, major win.
I want to now select a few phrases from the article to convey the mood I got from it:
“dwindled”, “end-of-the-week affairs”, “watched from afar”, “catch glimpses of him”. “unusually close”….
She is a jilted Harlequin Romance lover…
Thank you, ColdCup! Your comment made it all clear…MONICA in the handshake line, hoping hoping hoping for the merest handtouch…the PATHOS!
That’s what she gets for asking WALNUTS! about Viagra. I mean, duh.
So what did happened with McCain’s kid and the trollop?
I suspect McCain advised the kid to dump her for a beer heiress.
Let all undecided voters take note: McCain grills with propane?
GAME OVER!
Hero my ass.
It happens sometimes. Politicians come in and out of our lives like busboys in a restaurant.
I feel so…used and dirty.
somebody hold me
JeffGoldblum: Meghan’s getting heavy> Eh, gotta be campaign nerves/road food. Meggy will be back to her svelte self once the campaign’s done and mom hooks her up with some nice weight loss pills. Oh sure they’re not prescribed for weight loss, but they’re more fun than the OTC stuff.
Either that or she could become bulimic. I don’t think any woman in that family is gonna settle for being a chubster all her life.
ColdCupofHope: Once you tongue-love a cheek goiter, over a Mormon you’ll never loiter.
JeffGoldblum: Maybe she’s not really “fat.” Maybe she had a tryst with Levi Johnston.
I’m sure his lobbyist secks slaves also feel abandoned in their time of need.
“yes, looking back on those magical moments with John, those were my salad days, when I was green in judgment, cold in blood”
He never calls, never writes. It’s like I never really meant anything to him at all. What a silly twat.
wallythepug: Milk-filled dinner plates and that warm I-been-trying-on-Levi glow?
C’est possible.
Off Topic…This just happened!
Can someone tell me why Kyra Phillips has a small black child sitting on her lap, rapping during the news cast? Now Kyra’s flashing gang symbols. I’m confused.
(maybe someone more technical than me can find the clip).
Once you tongue-love a cheek goiter, over a Mormon you’ll never loiter. <- WIN
Holy shit! Get a hold of yourself there, Jerk!
since “fluffer” has come up a few times now on various posts, allow me to share just a quick anectode in regards?
In first grade, our play was The Weather Workshop in which kids took on the roles of different meterorological elements such as the sun, the moon, and each diffent type of cloud (cumulus, cirrus, stratus) All the clouds were played by little boys. And me, my role, the role of a lifetime was “Puff, the cloud fluffer.” Yes, i was in charge of “fluffing” the clouds. There’s just so many things to be said about that…
Jesus, lady. Go work for Entertainment Weekly or something. At least those people know they’re being used by publicity hounds.
“Tape recorder out and within a foot of him, I asked if he could talk about his new economic plan, which he was to unveil that week. The man who once asked me about my wedding date returned my gaze with a stare, shook the hand of the strangers to the right and left of me and continued out the door.”
Man, that’s like visiting your Grammpa in the nursing home when he doesn’t recognise you anymore..
But… but… he wrote “You complete me” in bratwurst. That means we’re married, right??
Deepthroat: Most popular girl in the class?
Tommy Says Soooo: God (on his space planet), I love this board.
Tommy Says Soooo: Oh man.
I hope she offs herself from the pain.
…the pain of losing John, of course.
She sounds suspiciously like dreamy Michelle Bachmann prior to her mental breakdown.
Did you wonkette editors actually vet this news source?
Deepthroat: I saw your play:
http://movies.yahoo.com/movie/1808456154/info
You want to explain this?
JeffGoldblum: The words Levi “Fuckin Redneck” Johnston mean anything to you?
JeffGoldblum: Not going to lie i would still hit that
This needs to be a story on Wonkette. Seriously.
http://www.inquisitr.com/6522/dianne-wilkerson/
Am i they only one laughing in a evil super villain like tone.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2008/10/27/gop-draws-internal-battle_n_138303.html
grendel: Stuffing your bra with money is the root of all evil.
God, what I learned this campaign season is that journalists might be an even more uncritical thinking bunch of dupes than the general voting public. “Bu.. but… I don’t understand. He said that our love would last forever?!?!? Could he have just been using me? Waaahhhhhh!”
wallythepug: Or swallowed him whole, anaconda-style.
Perhaps, if she had ANY objectivity left, she might realize she sounded like a whiney little teenager. Journalism 101, lady. The people that you report on are not your friends.
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grendel:
I love this. It’s about time they took this bitch down. And she thought things we low when she lost her senate seat last month! MWAH!
grendel: Jesus. What is this, an episode of Starsky and Hutch?
Deepthroat: puff the cloud fluffer and first-grade play?! this is precisely the kind of sex-ed for children hopey supports…
Worlds End: totally inspired!
Pardon?
“[T]ragic Sophoclean drama”?
As opposed to “comedic Sophoclean musical”?
Or “Sophoclean introspective monologue”?
Or maybe “Sophoclean light opera”?
“Sophoclean TV sit-com”?
Apparently, there is some corpus of Sophoclean work with which I am unfamiliar . . . .
So this reporter churns out 1500 words about how Panamanian strongman Juan McCain doesn’t love her anymore. Can you imagine what it was like before it was edited down? Do you suppose her manuscript had little hearts and “Mrs. John McCain” scrawled in the margins?
Worlds End: Is this what it’s going to take to get graphics in the comments? Kind of a limited palette, but we’ll work on it.
grendel: Is that how Senator wilkerson became a D-cup? http://wbztv.com/local/dianne.wilkerson.diane.2.850284.html
what a compelling story … i can’t wait for the miniseries.
RadioFreeBabylon: Propane? He spent five and a half years in a box, crashed 4 or 5 airplanes, dropped bombs and got shot down, was born in Panama, maybe even killed someone in a car crash (see HuffPo), all to end up grilling with propane? That’s it, I’m voting for That One.
Poor, poor Maeve. Walnuts fed you meat, you ate it all, and now you demand pre-masticated creamed spoonfed bullshit from his long dead fingers?
What the fuck kind of alias is Maeve, anyway?
When he yells “stupid whore” at me, I know he really means “I love you.” It’s like a little code between us. He’s McDreamy.
ManchuCandidate: Hahah…i actually sung the song to the lyrics. now its it my head. where’s my Slayer CD.
When your father starts sending you Obama Girl videos, an angel loses its wings:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ftg2CWT4LL0
New Obama Girl video.
Neilist: Well, me and the missus saw the late Tony Randall in ‘Sophocles and the Technicolor Dreamcoat’ at the Littleneck Dinner Theater some years ago and found it delightful. Plus, the Clams Antigone were to die for.
Neilist: Yes! Let the grad-student smack-down begin!
Then it turned out WALNUTS owned the megastore that was putting her family bookstore out of business, but he didn’t die when his FedEx plane crashed and even though she got married while he was on an island for FIVE AND A HALF YEARS, life is a box of chocolates.
Neilist: “Tragic” and “drama” complete the spondaic tetrameter.
Also, I think Sophocles ghost wrote some dialogue for “Jersey Boys.”
What’s a reporter?
Later that summer, the frequency of McCain’s news conferences dwindled to late-afternoon, end-of-the-week affairs where he began calling more often on reporters he didn’t know.
We now watched from afar at most events…
This campaign is clearly turning into a bad remake of Grease.
“It turned colder, that’s where it ends….so I told her ‘we’d still be friends…”
Johnny Zuko’s dissin this chick because he gotta rep ta protect.
I can’t wait for the big dance scene. Who gets to play Cha-Cha?
Oh, and I hear Meghan gotta bun in da oven.
Neilist: I believe it was a gentleman by the name of Aristophanes who originate the “dramady”
PopeyesPipe: “Tragic” and “drama” complete the spondaic tetrameter.
Yes, something like that. RHYTHM and CADENCE or whatever.
Jim Newell: I’m thinking “Laurel” and “Hardy”
Jim Newell: I meant trochaic tetrameter. Man, do I have egg on my face.
HuskyMescan:
With the mention of Slayer I am now obligated to to chime in thusly - Slayyyyeeerrrrr!!! [carves "Slayer" into arm, sets arm on fire]
PopeyesPipe: Perhaps you mean “ovulaic pomme-de-terre”.
The good news is now the reporter has met the real John McCain.
Once on a junket, I heard this little old reporter lady from Florida reminiscing: “When I first met Darren McGavin, we did not get along at all. But later on, we became the best of friends.” It’s nice to know that this kind of delusion extends to political reporters also.
Would it be ethic-less for a reporter to scratch a dyslexic M/W in her cheek — and blame a 6′4″ blogger?
Maybe wan Juan would not give her the icy stare, unless he HAS had a stroke and no longer remembers her. I understand there are also bad mood swings, awkwardness of movement. You gotta wonder.
That was pathetic! That reporter sounds like love sick teenager dealing with a brake up. Good God, people like that are reporters – no wonder our country is populated with low info voters.
Read this and what really struck me was the line about a zip-line in Puerto Rico, how did he do that with lizard arms????
Quick question:
Are people actually sitting around calling Meghan McCain fat? And, like, discussing the issue? The serious, serious issue?
Susan B.: Well, if she showed us her boobs, then we’d talk about THAT. Sheesh.
JeffGoldblum: She is sympathy-preggers with BFF Bristol. Or maybe just flat out knocked up.
Susan B.: She’s not fat, she’s big-boned.
I quit talking to that ugly bitch also, she smelled like Michelle on a HOT summer evening.
Susan B.: Agreed. It hasn’t been a very clever concept since… ever. So stop it you nuts.
mattbolt: Dead.On. I don’t need to read any further.
Tommy Says Soooo: Brilliant response. And true.
Paterlanger: PopeyesPipe: user-of-owls: Sorry. But that kind of thing just leaps out at me.
When I read read the whole article earlier today, I couldn’t have been so bored. I kept waiting for the punchline or the real grit, it just droned on and on about personal life experience being a reporter, yawn. It read just like one of those business books which can be summarised in 3 paragraphs but someone had to write a whole book because that is the only way they could monitize their idea.
Jim, I feel your pain in having to read the whole thing and somehow summarise it in your novella above.
As a career journalist, the only sane response to this is: Who cares? The first lesson that most reporters learn is that no one gives a shit what you think–so just report the news in a fair, objective, balanced, accurate and straightforward manner. No one cares about your flowery prose or creative writing skills, either: Just report the news. No one at the Times realized that long-winded, arrogant, self-centered pieces of crap like this tend to turn off the populace and turn them against reporters? They should have. No one cares about self-centered crap like this! Just report the NEWS.