Convention-goers appall
Jillian Melchior
Issue date: 9/11/08 Section: Beyond
Their behavior was inexcusable. But I feared for their lives; the crowd was ignited enough to gnaw apart their limbs. The enthusiasm grew out of control instantly.
It was a quick burn, and I felt betrayed. Never had I seen something so much like a mob. These spectators - elected delegates, bearers of their people's trust - were stupid. They did not critically assess any statement. They clapped and cheered automatically. Their emotion had no substance. It was meaningless.
Surely it had not always been this way, and surely this unworthy herd would be bored sitting through the glory of a Lincoln-Douglas debate. Politics should be beautiful. Or at least partially.
I thought - and I was later told by an elder that it was a rather undergraduate thought - that maybe the world wasn't run by rational people, after all.
I sulked near the heat lamp at a party after the acceptance speech. Texas delegates came up to join me. They had been some of the most vocal in the crowd.
I asked them - half in awe, half as chastisement - why they had acted that way.
A petite brunette a year older than me answered.
"It is stupid," she said. "But it's a necessary stupidity. It wouldn't do for Barack Obama to get a crazy ovation, then for the TV cameras to show a lukewarm reception for McCain. So even though I find flaws, and even though I didn't love it all, I stood and clapped and yelled with all my might. It was important for me to do that, even if it seemed a little foolish."
That's the only answer anyone can give in justification. I guess it's good enough in an imperfect world. I'm wiser for my first brush with a necessary evil.
Still, there was something so terrible about the moment when that worship turned into fury.
I guess politicians and show-masters do what they must. I just wish somebody else were bothered by the spectacle.
It was a quick burn, and I felt betrayed. Never had I seen something so much like a mob. These spectators - elected delegates, bearers of their people's trust - were stupid. They did not critically assess any statement. They clapped and cheered automatically. Their emotion had no substance. It was meaningless.
Surely it had not always been this way, and surely this unworthy herd would be bored sitting through the glory of a Lincoln-Douglas debate. Politics should be beautiful. Or at least partially.
I thought - and I was later told by an elder that it was a rather undergraduate thought - that maybe the world wasn't run by rational people, after all.
I sulked near the heat lamp at a party after the acceptance speech. Texas delegates came up to join me. They had been some of the most vocal in the crowd.
I asked them - half in awe, half as chastisement - why they had acted that way.
A petite brunette a year older than me answered.
"It is stupid," she said. "But it's a necessary stupidity. It wouldn't do for Barack Obama to get a crazy ovation, then for the TV cameras to show a lukewarm reception for McCain. So even though I find flaws, and even though I didn't love it all, I stood and clapped and yelled with all my might. It was important for me to do that, even if it seemed a little foolish."
That's the only answer anyone can give in justification. I guess it's good enough in an imperfect world. I'm wiser for my first brush with a necessary evil.
Still, there was something so terrible about the moment when that worship turned into fury.
I guess politicians and show-masters do what they must. I just wish somebody else were bothered by the spectacle.
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