So it's election season again, and you know what that means: grown men acting like children on television.
You beg to differ perhaps? Wait until some of our distinguished public servants start snapping at each other about who's running a "clean" campaign and whose negative ad aired first and how they all really, really care about a prescription drug plan for seniors.
We're in for some of the old standbys -- "Candidate A voted for evicting old people from their homes in the middle of the night and is a cross-dressing alcoholic. Candidate B goes to church every Sunday, has never sinned and can magically pay down the debt and cut taxes and is 'for the people.'"
Really, who do they think they are fooling? What I wouldn't give for a candidate for anything, from the school board to the Senate, to step up to the podium, throw a rock at the teleprompter, look the camera in the eye and say, "Here's what I can do, here's what I object to, and here's all the naughty things I did in college. I'll see you Nov. 5."
Another personal favorite practice of mine reached its peak during the national conventions a few years back. Somewhere between naming their candidates and toasting their biggest donors, the two parties got into a competition over who could be seen with the most paraplegic, retarded or otherwise impaired voters. What does that say about the nature of politics? "Nine out of 10 crippled children support Governor Bush."
Never mind the fact that politicizing someone's disability is a sick practice.
Less disturbing but just as confounding is the practice of working the super-voter into your speech. You may have seen this: "Mrs. Jones has 22 children and has been wheelchair bound since she lost her legs fighting the Nazis, but every time there's an election she wheels herself 13 miles from her small town to the nearest voting station and casts her vote for a Democrat. It is her civic spirit that is worth acknowledging tonight."
It would be terrific if candidates were actually using their airtime to acknowledge remarkable Americans with no ulterior motive, but if you believe that I have a bridge in Brooklyn that I'd like to sell you.
Yet, in spite of the highly scripted and rehearsed nature of campaigning, at least one Senate race promises to be an interesting one. New Jersey's own Robert Torricelli has already made a splash with his bait-and-switch, and the fallout from it is ironic to say the least -- Republicans who have accused him of being "unfit to serve simply on the basis of his lack of integrity" were, until yesterday, clawing to keep him on the ballot, because they thought they could beat him.
Their hope in appealing the case to the U.S. Supreme Court was that they could keep Torricelli the subject of the election all the way up to the zero hour even though the court refused to intervene. This is called the "mommy no fair" strategy and it's not as if we haven't seen it before. Better still, by using this approach, the Republicans hope to keep us from knowing anything about challenger Doug Forrester. All these months into the campaign, I don't know for a fact that he made his millions by price-gouging pharmaceutical products through a company called BeneCard Services Inc. Really.
It is also worth noting that Frank Lautenberg now has the easiest job in the country. He has the capital to fund his own "Democrat who isn't Torricelli" campaign, but he doesn't really have to. The 78-years-young former senator could golf for a month and would still be a pretty safe bet to win the seat.
With all this haranguing and struggle for control of the Senate, one has to wonder what has been done with that slim yet official majority. As far as I can tell, Bush has gone ahead and done exactly as he pleased, while Daschle, for all his looks of grim determination, has not done much about it.
To be fair, it has been difficult, since anyone who dares to disagree with this president is unconditionally labeled "unpatriotic" and "partisan." And it's not for nothing that the majority party chairs committees. But I struggle to recall an issue Bush has played for that he hasn't gotten, especially now that it seems everyone is resigned to a war with Iraq even though no one's exactly sure why.
And that's why it's time for some sort of change. Throw the polls, the aides, the strategists, the game out the window, and give us one election where we get two people who speak for themselves and don't pass the buck. An election without the unnecessary drama -- and the unnecessary court dates.
I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you.
Eliot Sherman is a sophomore from Philadelphia, Pa.
