Everyone's Sick of Riding the WALNUTS Express
John McCain brought his silly bus back this week -- you remember the one, the STRAIGHT SHOOTIN' INDEPENDENT NO-NONSENSE MAVERICK EXPRESS -- and it's pretty much exactly like his magical 2000 campaign that everyone loved except for the bit where he has more money and is an administration stooge now.
Everyone loved his bus back in 2000 because he'd let reporters sit in it and get drunk and chat with him all day long about whatever they wanted and sometimes McCain would say "gook" or "kike" or "colored" and they'd all laugh and then maybe someone would report it and McCain would say he's sorry he's such a STRAIGHT TALKER and everyone would laugh some more.
But now, in 2007, the straight talk express is packed tighter than a dragon bus with handlers, press relations folks, aides, tv crews, and black babies. It's got its own section on his scary website. And to ol' Adam Nagourney, well, it's just not the same.
On Thursday, even as he promised a stream of the candid comments that distinguished him in 2000 -- "Anything, anything you want to talk about," he said -- he steered clear of offering opinions on two of the biggest issues on the political landscape this week.
He's changed, man. He used to be about the music and the occasional bursts of rage. Now he won't even tell the New York Times whether or not he thinks homosexuality is immoral. What happened to the WALNUTS America fell in love with? Or rather the WALNUTS that America was told it should fall in love with by the campaign reporters who fell in love with nigh-unlimited access? Like all crushes that start on buses, it was doomed to failure from the start. We're going to start falling in love with candidates we meet at coffee shops instead.