By Jim Geraghty
Thursday, May 02, 2019
Over at the Daily
Beast, Margaret Carlson doesn’t think it’s too early to administer last
rites to the Beto O’Rourke presidential campaign, and offers a
blistering assessment of O’Rourke as a fundamentally unserious candidate:
According to my unscientific poll
asking every woman I see, Beto reminds them of the worst boyfriend they ever
had: self-involved, convinced of his own charm, chronically late if he shows up
at all, worth a meal or two but definitely not marriage material. When he
should be home with the kids or taking out the trash, he’s jamming with his
garage band or skateboarding at Whataburger. He’s “in and out of a funk” which
requires long and meaningful runs to clear his head. Every thought he has is
transcendent, worthy of being narrated, videotaped, and blogged. He is always
out finding himself. At age 46, the man asking to run the country is currently
lost.
The column is scathing, but some of us will wonder . . .
where the heck was all of this scrutiny and skepticism of O’Rourke last year?
He’s the same guy he was in 2018!
As far as I can tell, Carlson never wrote about
O’Rourke last year. But last year, various writers at the Daily Beast labeled him a
“liberal hero . . . with a penchant for going viral,” that he’s “break[ing] down the walls between
candidate and constituents,”that his “fundraising operation is still proving to
be a remarkable success, one that some of the top digital operatives in the
Democratic Party believe could be foundational for future
campaigns,” that his “supporters tout his quite liberal policy positions only after gushing about him as a person,” and they even declared that his dental visit “livestream
was admirable in principle.”
Just once, I’d like to see some major mainstream
journalism institution look at its past coverage and say something like . . .
Since the 2018 Texas Senate race
ended, we’ve gotten to know Beto O’Rourke better and put simply, we chose to
see what we wanted to see that year. He was glib, and we convinced ourselves it
was charisma. He looked young, and we told ourselves he was the voice of a new
generation. We found his skateboarding and guitar-playing cool when it was kind
of silly and juvenile, and we persuaded ourselves that he was an accomplished
leader when we now see he was a bumbling slacker who had married up and had his
political ambitions carried along by his father-in-law’s wealth and
connections. We hate Ted Cruz with the passion of a thousand suns going
supernova, and because of that, we talked ourselves into believing that this
guy was Lone Star Jesus. We recognize that we have a worsening problem with
wish-casting and have checked into a twelve-step program.
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