We all were appalled

Right off, last night CNN's Republican debate moderator John King asked Newt Gingrich about his ex-wife's new claim that he asked for an open marriage. Newt answered,

I think the destructive, vicious, negative nature of much of the news media makes it harder to govern this country, harder to attract decent people to run for public office. And I am appalled that you would begin a presidential debate on a topic like that. Every person in here knows personal pain. Every person in here has had someone close to them go through personal things. To take an ex-wife, and make it two days before the Primary, a significant question in a Presidential campaign, is as close to despicable as anything I can imagine.

Despite his admitting to having a weak imagination, this morning's coverage calls Newt's reply brilliantly calculated. What made it a hit was not so much Newt's words but rather (1) the timing of the exchange, (2) Newt's delivery, (3) King's freezing up, and (4) the audience's enthusiasm.

No doubt King thought his opening rhetorical situation a golden opportunity; he hoped to start with fireworks, embarrassing Newt by capitalizing on the big ABC tabloid interview with the ex-wife. But doing so created an even bigger rhetorical situation for Newt, one he seized with his customary bluster by rejecting the question on moral grounds. That he got to do so right in the beginning, at the moment when anticipation and energy were peaking and ratings were highest, only magnified the exchange and created an immediate emotional outlet for the audience, who cheered Newt on as he chastised the media, the moderator.

Here we have a politician who publicly preaches values, from the party that owns family values, caught violating those values, claiming that he is morally above public inquiry into his values and his personal life.

The hypocrisy is plain as day, yet King fumbles on the opportunity, and Gingrich looks brilliant because he gets away with it.

Gingrich holds aloft his righteousness in his staccatoed indignation. He summons the dignity of the moment--a Presidential debate (a Primary debate)--a dignity due to such an event in abstraction, but not often felt in practice.

King could have countered along another route: Gingrich faults "the destructive, vicious, negative nature of much of the news media" while enjoying the destructive, vicious, negative nature of attacks hurled at candidate Romney by him and his Super PAC.

All this aside, what to make of Gingrich's appeal to "personal pain"? What pain? The pain of the divorce? And whose pain? His? The ex-wife's?

The answers don't matter. What matters is, What does the pain speak of? I'd venture that, for Gingrich, "pain" in this context is the pain we inflict and feel ourselves when confronted by personal failings. Gingrich has them in spades, but a candidate can't say so. Instead, "pain" is a code, a signifier of the unspeakable. Pain communicates to us without words and carries its own meaning. I'd venture further and say most his audience understands this, personal failings, even if they don't know it.

And if I'm right about what Gingrich is saying, I'd be tempted to see this as a product of his recent conversion to Catholicism, as his statement has in it an element of Confession.

Jon Stewart's rhetorical situation

I like this quasi-profile of John Stewart because the author approaches his subject from various angles, posing  provocative questions and then offering answers, alternately recognizing strengths while attacking some well-argued weaknesses. The primary criticisms leveled at Stewart are that (1) he takes himself too seriously and (2) he unknowlingly plays the redeemer, criticizing the establishment from a safe place while making himself invulnerable to counter-criticism by repeatedly denying his power--this "redeemer" characterization of Stewart refers to America's "need for redeemers to rise out of its ranks". Its a great read but I argue that the author puts too much emphasis on Stewart the individual and not enough on the larger rhetorical situation.

I agree that his modesty borders on false, but when Stewart denies his power I interpret this as his assessment not so much of himself but of his rhetorical situation: His audience consists of young, self-imagined dissidents and slackers who ultimately don't mobilize well as a group. Stewart can't mobilize them the way Beck can appear to mobilize his audience--a block of voters already energized thanks to a dedicated media and powerful political machine. Despite mainstream media's claims to the contrary, the Tea Party is not a "state of mind" or unaffiliated multiplicity of citizenry; they are an easily identified demographic with shared values and an agenda. By comparison, Progressives can stand for almost anything--gay marriage, worker's rights, the environment, anti-globalization, minority achievement, tax policy, gun control, prison reform, entitlement improvements, education, peace, and so on--and getting them to the polls as individuals is challenging enough. Stewart's power lies solely in his popularity as a smart Liberal media critic, a face appearing not on reputable stages like CNN or even MSNBC, but on Comedy Central for a few minutes a night, four nights a week during part of the year. The matter is not that Stewart won't be a force for change; it's that he can't be.

The author implies that Stewart is a coward because he stands for nothing; he only satirizes while acting as the Liberal conscience. But then the piece ends with Stewart dreaming up a network based on media reform. Isn't that standing for something? (If it is true.) If Stewart does nothing more than The Daily Show the rest of his life, then No, he isn't politically useful to Progressives. He merely provides a venue for people who think popular news is a joke.

But as a media attraction (as opposed to a political force), Stewart does have power. So I don't follow the criticism that Stewart takes himself too seriously. So what if he does? The author's cited examples include his behavior during appearances on Charlie Rose, Rachel Maddow, or on various FOX programs. Look, when Stewart is given a serious platform such as a guest spot on Charlie Rose, he acts like a guest on Charlie Rose. He takes advantage and shows another other side of himself. As for switching between Stewart the TV personality and Stewart the man, entertainment has a long history of performers trying to reach through the wall separating performer from audience in an attempt to connect. When the run of a show ends, like when Conan had to leave his show or when Carson retired from his, the man opts for sincerity as sincerity is called for.

In the peripheral sits an interesting issue: What to make of Stephen Colbert? Right now, neither man has a cause or larger vision with which to rally voters. But among his other achievements, Colbert formed a super PAC and gave a scathing, high-profile performance at the White House Correspondents Dinner. In criticizing Stewart, is the author alternately congratulating Colbert? Is Colbert still funny?