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February 19, 2004 Yesterday's commentary argued that sincerity in politics is something that can really enamour voters. That is, of course, if its delivery doesn't set off alarm bells amongst the electorate. Howard Dean is a perfect example of this theory. His straight-ahead, no nonsense approach seemed fresh, and really got the Democratic party excited and invigorated at a time when George W. Bush was riding high in the polls as a wartime President, and the Democrats had no shortage of bland and inconsequential candidates lining up for the Presidential nomination . Then the lid came off, and the smoke started rising. Talk of a vicious temper surfaced, leading to stories of threatening colleagues back in Vermont, which initiated questions regarding suitability to carry the Democratic torch, which then of course led to the infamous Iowa scream, ending Dean's chances in the Democratic primaries before the race had even begun. By that point, the smoke had clearly been replaced by fires. 17 defeats later, and the Dean train has now been permanently derailed. The moral of the story is simple: people do not want to feel like they have been treated like fools, but they also don't want to be instilled with worry. Dean scared voters into thinking he was an uncontrollable rogue, unequipped with the filter that supposedly makes Presidents, well, presidential (although granted, presidential conduct is never something associated with the current President). Let us pay respects to a man who wore his heart on his sleeve, although as the video clip clearly shows, rolled up those very same sleeves to his detriment. In honour of Mr. Dean, a song to mark the end of an admirable yet horribly unsuccessful campaign. Comments? jonathan@tdhstrategies.com |
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