McCain's Speech: Worst Acceptance Speech in Almost 30 Years?

Posted by Melissa McEwan, Shakesville at 9:22 AM on September 5, 2008.

So, I pretty much hated John McCain's speech.

It was boring as all fuck, not just because McCain is a miserable orator who never manages to hit any kind of compelling rhythm, but because it was the same damn speech I've heard at every GOP convention for my entire life injected with a shot of POW, the potency of which had been thoroughly undermined by every other convention speaker having taken possession of McCain's history during their speeches. Even the video package introducing McCain talked about his being a POW. There's a not-particularly-fine line between marketing relevant and evocative personal experience and Tragedy Branding. This convention sailed over that line into farce.

It gives me no joy to say that. And it doesn't change one iota the fact that McCain's service was intrinsically brave and honorable. I'm just really mystified by the decision to use something as intimate and distressing as the details of imprisonment and torture as the primary selling point of a candidate. Which is not to suggest McCain shouldn't have talked about it himself—but doling it out to everyone else to discuss onstage on his behalf had the twofold effect of diluting its effectiveness and disconnecting McCain from his own highly personal experience.

It certainly wasn't a good design for people tuned in to lots of the convention, at minimum.

I won't pick apart much of the actual content, because, quite frankly, it's too dry and dull to require it. There are two passages I wanted to mention, though.

ONE:

I'm not running for president because I think I'm blessed with such personal greatness that history has anointed me to save our country in its hour of need.

Immediately after the speech, Spudsy and I were on the phone talking about it, and he said he thought that was a nasty jab at Obama. Reading other reactions to the speech around the blogosphere, I see that other people had a similar reaction.

When I heard it, I thought it was a jab at Bush.

Possibly this is because I've never heard Obama say anything close to what could legitimately be described as a belief he is blessed with such personal greatness that history has anointed him to save our country in its hour of need.

Possibly it's because I've heard Bush and his myriad devotees say that shit about a bazillion times.

(Although, it tends to be less about history anointing him than God anointing him. Or sending him war plans, as the case may be.)

"I feel like God wants me to run for President. I can't explain it, but I sense my country is going to need me. Something is going to happen... I know it won't be easy on me or my family, but God wants me to do it."—George W. Bush

"He is one of those men God and fate somehow lead to the fore in times of challenge. I thank God that on September 11th, we had a president who didn't wring his hands and wonder what America had done wrong to deserve this attack. I thank God we had a president who understood that America was attacked, not for what we had done wrong, but for what we did right."—Former NY Gov. George Pataki

"I think President Bush is God's man at this hour, and I say this with a great sense of humility."—Former Deputy Director of the Office of Public Liaison Tim Goeglein

"If I'd won that election in 1992, my oldest son would not be president of the United States of America. I think the Lord works in mysterious ways."—George H.W. Bush

Et cetera.

Given the perception that McCain essentially used this speech to throw his own party under the bus, along with the Republican National Convention treating "Republican" like a dirty word and Bush like a pariah, I'm not convinced that he wasn't pointing that particular weapon in Bush's general direction.

Possibly, the line was designed as a double-edged blade—which would make it quite certainly the best line in the whole speech.

Especially because Johnny Boy evidently needs to put some real distance between himself and the Dauphin of Dipshittery.

Tom Brokaw: But the fact is, Governor, that you've had eight years of a Bush administration and a lot of Republicans in Congress for the last eight years, so why wouldn't the American people say, "Look, they had their shot; we're gonna change"?

Tom Ridge: Uh, because, uh, John Bush—because, uh, John McCain is very much his own man.

You sure about that, Tom?

TWO:

My friends, I've been an imperfect servant of my country for many years. But I've been her servant first, last, and always. And I've never lived a day, in good times or bad, that I didn't thank God for the privilege. … I fell in love with my country when I was a prisoner in someone else's. I loved it not just for the many comforts of life here. I loved it for its decency, for its faith in the wisdom, justice, and goodness of its people. I loved it because it was not just a place, but an idea, a cause worth fighting for. I was never the same again; I wasn't my own man anymore; I was my country's.

Ezra notes, quite rightly, what's wrong with the passages like this one in McCain's speech: "Such public declarations of patriotism are not about why John McCain loves this country. They are about why this country should love John McCain."

That's right. We should love him because he is humble (despite what you may have heard about his being a belligerent fuckwit), and because he is decent (despite what you may have heard about his calling his wife a cunt), and because he has hard-won and tightly-held principles (despite what you may have heard about his caving on our country's torture policy and lots of other stuff), and because he is his country's eternal, unwavering servant (despite what you may have heard about his ties to lobbyists hired by corporations whose patriotism is only as strong as the dollar).

And we should vote for him because he is humble and decent and principled and devoted, too.

He's earned it, goddammit.

As I watched him tick off all the things he's done to deserve to be president, sneering: "My friends, I have that record and the scars to prove it. Senator Obama does not," I realized that McCain was trying to manipulate his way into the Oval Office using the same strategies as a Nice Guy^TM uses to try to manipulate his way into a woman's knickers.

Don't you know what a good person I am? What—are you one of those people who likes Mr. Popular the Arugula-Chomper? Fine, whatever. You voters always complain that there are no good candidates, but here's one right in front of you, and you're still going to choose celebrity over substance. No—wait, wait. I didn't mean it. Did you know that I was a POW? It was really horrible. Please vote for me. PLEASE. No? Well, screw you then!

I'm not sure if McCain wants a vote or a pity fuck.

The biggest applause line in the whole speech was when he introduced (again) his veep pick Sarah Palin, and—considered within the context of his 1) running against his own party and 2) desperate stumbling toward a finish line just out of his reach—it was a pitiful moment for McCain, as he seemed to be simultaneously passing the torch within and resigning from a Republican Party that doesn't really want him, even on the night he's been anointed its ostensible leader.

Awwwwwkwarrrrd!

But not even awkward enough to make it interesting. Dire speech. Dreadful convention. I can think of nothing more perfect for Candidate McCain.

Melissa McEwan writes and edits the blog Shakespeare's Sister.