Enough Already

God, I'm tired.  I just finished watching the Clinton/Obama slogfest from Cleveland and I'm not sure I can climb out of this chair and make it to bed.  

I don't remember the last time I endured such an enervating performance from both parties involved.  Have you ever watched an NBA game in the doldrums of January between two lousy teams, the visiting team playing their fourth game in five nights and the home team just back that morning from a nine-game, west coast swing?  It was like that.  Fumbled exchanges, wild shots missing their marks, no ability to freelance or improvise.  

Everything that was said had been said before, but better.  Both candidates looked like they'd rather be just about anywhere but Cleveland State University in a snow storm.  Neither one appeared to give much of a damn about how they came off.  If this debate was a movie, it was The Godfather: Part III.  

Hillary was a mess.  The expression on her face whenever the camera showed her listening to Obama or the moderators was one of glum resignation.  It's the way I looked when my dentist told me I needed an emergency root canal.  Her shrill complaint against Williams and Russert (and, I can only assume, Campbell Brown, Natalie Morales, Wolf Blitzer and anyone else who's directed a question her way throughout these debates) for calling on her first would have struck the most politically tone deaf note of the night if not for her pre-packaged jab at Obama and whether he should be offered a pillow.  You would think she would have learned her lesson in Texas when her embarrassing Xerox "zinger" clunked resoundingly onto the stage floor.  She even managed to negate her only substantive advantage -- the fact that her health care plan is marginally less delusional than Obama's -- by refusing to let the subject go when it was time to move on, continually interrupting to inject one last mewling scrap of minutia.  By debate's end I was reminded of Robert De Niro in Raging Bull, hanging on to Sugar Ray Robinson after absorbing a punishing beating, mumbling, "You never knocked me down, Ray.  You never knocked me down."  

Obama's performance was only marginally better.  He seemed lethargic, content to sit back and parry the futile thrusts of his exhausted opponent.  Obama is at his best when he is in oratorical full flight.  When his words are meant to inspire the better instincts in all of us.  When he is setting the agenda.  These debates don't play to his strengths.  Sometimes, when his reaction to a Clinton attack is meant to be measured and deliberative, he comes across as smug, even condescending.  He once again missed opportunities to tie in the cost of the Iraq war with the free-falling economy here at home.  Perhaps he's saving that ammo for McCain.  He wasn't able to put to rest questions about his pledge last year to take public financing in the general election.  It's an interesting box he's constructed for himself on this one -- we'll have to wait and see how he extricates himself.  Hard to picture him voluntarily ceding the advantage his spectacular fundraising machine gives him.  He is, however, running a campaign based on ideals and accountability, right?  

Basically, not much changed as a result of this debate.  If I had to guess what the biggest blow of the night was, I'd say it was Russert's steamrolling of HRC on her NAFTA flip-flop.  He hit her with a flurry that underlined in no uncertain terms how she championed the trade agreement until it became a political albatross around her neck.  I'll bet that's what Ohio voters took away from what has otherwise become an exercise in picking over the barren carcass of this campaign in search of fresh ideas or stimulating arguments.

This thing is over.  Actually, it's been over for awhile now.  The exact moment it ended was immediately after the Wisconsin primary, when Hillary was giving her non-concession speech to a modest gathering of disappointed supporters in Youngstown, Ohio and all of the networks cut away from that lead balloon to show Obama raising the roof in front of 20,000 raucous fans down in Houston, Texas.  You can fool most of the people practically all of the time but when the guys sitting in the corner offices at the networks decide you're no longer relevant, well, that pain in your neck is from the big fork that's sticking out of it.

Clinton won't drop out this week.  If she was capable of that, she wouldn't be Hillary Clinton.  She's still polling okay in Ohio, she likes her chances in Pennsylvania, she and Bill are holding the chits of a bunch of undeclared super delegates and the Florida/Michigan fiasco is yet to be settled.  That all adds up to continuing the fight at least through Ohio.  

But make no mistake about it:  Hillary's campaign is well into its endgame now.  She'll be fine, by the way.  It's even money her next job title will be Senate Majority Leader.  Assuming she doesn't burn too many bridges between now and the Democratic National Convention.