I’ll bet I’m not the only observer of the soporific read-through by John McCain tonight asking himself why the party didn’t put Palin at the top of the ticket and demote the doddering headliner to ribbon-cutting at the Sioux Falls Pickle Pageant.
Actually, I’m stunned not only at the halting, uncertain delivery by the Republican candidate but the droopy, spiritless prose cooked up for him by his supposed expert speechwriters. I can’t imagine that anyone not already in the bag for the red ticket could bear to sit through half of it.
You’re not supposed to say this, but McCain’s wobbly performance has got to raise the question of his health to even a casual observer. If that’s the level of enthusiasm he can crank up for the crowning achievement of a politician’s life, we’ll need an EMT revival squad backstage at the upcoming debates.
The speech isn’t over as I write this, so I will tune in to the follow-up commentary to see if the chattering classes are living on planet Earth. Anyone who tries to defend this D-minus dissertation should be on the waiting list for a brain transplant.
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