He campaigns on reform, yet has reformed little. He campaigns on a new politics, yet has, as Ryan Lizza wrote, played by the rules throughout his political life.
His rise has more to do with his own self than it does with any particular idea or belief. The public is not asked to consider an ideology, but rather to consider the specialness of one man. He is undoubtedly a private person, as is John McCain. But Barack Obama is unknown, in part because he is new, but also because he does not tell us who he truly is. This is part of what makes Obama an interesting, even fascinating, figure on the political scene. But, as Castellanos says, it is forbidding; should the American people invest so much power in a man who is not known to them? I say that they should say no because of his abortion policies; moderates will disagree on that. Which brings us back to the first point: should this man be given the most powerful position on earth when he is unknown to many of his countrymen?
My argument is not that Obama is a liar, or that he is a man of evil intent; he may very well have the best of intentions. But we should give the presidency to a man who is done journeying on the road of self-knowledge, and who long ago decided who he must be.
Without further ado, here is part of the article:
In the defining moment of his life, McCain was willing to give everything for one thing, and that one thing was his country. Contrast that with Obama, who has told America that he is "a proud citizen of the United States and a fellow citizen of the world." Obama is the talented salesman who seduced one state after another saying "Iowa, this is our moment," "Virginia, this is our moment," "Texas, this is our moment," and then tells Europe, "people of Berlin, people of the world, this is our moment." How many times can Barack Obama sell the same moment to everyone, before he becomes Mel Brooks in "The Producers"? Who is Barack Obama? His campaign, as it reupholsters him before our eyes, says we can never know -- perhaps because Barack Obama does not know himself.
Dreams from My Father is a staggeringly beautiful book, lyrical, powerful and poetic. It is also the story of a man who has been many men, all named Barack Obama. In his own eyes, he is one race, but also another. He is an American, but also a Kenyan. He is from Hawaii and also the Kansas heartland. He is Harvard elite, then the Chicago streets. At times he decries the very clay from which he was made, only to remake himself again.
At each place and stage, as Barack Obama chronicles the chapters of his life, he tells us how he has re-invented himself, becoming the role he inhabits, though not falsely or in-authentically, like Bill Clinton. He actually seems to transform himself, becoming what must be next. He has been called distant, aloof and somewhat unapproachable, perhaps because we cannot approach what he does not have, a solid core. His soul seems to be molten and made up of dreams, which is at once breathtakingly inspiring and forbiddingly indeterminate. When this young man with the flowing, passionate core, when this candidate without the solid-center changes positions and transforms himself as we watch, it leaves Americans much more in doubt about who he is and how he would lead us. It also reveals an Obama of unapproachable arrogance and inestimable self-regard: He appears confident voters will appreciate his superiority regardless of where he journeys or what he becomes to meet his political ambitions.
John McCain is a complete and well-formed man. Barack Obama is completing himself. As he moves to fit what he perceives to be a right-of-center country, he distances himself from the simple and authentic passion of a young candidate who once pledged "Change We Can Believe In".
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