It should have been an inspiring moment. John Edwards, finally on a stage with Barack Obama, throwing his support behind a clean end to the Democratic contest. He was gracious and admiring towards Senator Clinton, as he should have been, and effusive towards Obama. Too often, endorsements, particularly those that come late in the game, are awkward, grudging affairs. But Edwards evinced no such hesitancy. Rather than haltingly trying to fit himself into Obama’s narrative, Edwards did the opposite: He set Obama up as the completion of his narrative. Talk of the Two Americas always begged the question of how we could build one. It was never a question Edwards had a very good answer for. But nor did I think he ever really needed one. Surely step one was the simple recognition of the country's bifurcation. A candidate willing to admit our condition was better than one who sought to deny it. But last night, Edwards offered a fairly novel reply. Before you can knock down walls, he suggested, you need first unify those who live on either side of the barrier. Obama, Edwards said, could do that. But can he? Throughout the speech, my mind kept wandering back to a piece by Charlie Pierce that offered up a cynic's take on Barack Obama. "As Obama’s campaign gathered strength, the cynic [Pierce] kept hearing that 2004 speech again, in bits and pieces, in every stump speech Obama gave, and he saw that what Obama was offering was exactly what the country did not need. He was offering absolution without confession, without penance...He was offering a guilty country a nolo plea. Himself. Absolution without confession."It's not quite that simple. George W. Bush is now the least popular president since the advent of modern polling. He has not had the support of a majority of the country in over 40 months. 71 percent of the country now disapproves of his performance. Nixon and Truman have both posted lower favorable numbers, but neither ever elicited such broad disapproval. Bush is the most hated president since we began measuring such feelings. Do those numbers not suggest confession? Is the painful recognition that the country we love is embroiled in a senseless and murderous war not a form of penance? Is the understanding that our nation is off track not an admission of guilt? EDWARDS, OBAMA, AND THE CYNIC.
It should have been an inspiring moment. John Edwards, finally on a stage with Barack Obama, throwing his support behind a clean end to the Democratic contest. He was gracious and admiring towards Senator Clinton, as he should have been, and effusive towards Obama. Too often, endorsements, particularly those that come late in the game, are awkward, grudging affairs. But Edwards evinced no such hesitancy. Rather than haltingly trying to fit himself into Obama’s narrative, Edwards did the opposite: He set Obama up as the completion of his narrative. Talk of the Two Americas always begged the question of how we could build one. It was never a question Edwards had a very good answer for. But nor did I think he ever really needed one. Surely step one was the simple recognition of the country's bifurcation. A candidate willing to admit our condition was better than one who sought to deny it. But last night, Edwards offered a fairly novel reply. Before you can knock down walls, he suggested, you need first unify those who live on either side of the barrier. Obama, Edwards said, could do that. But can he? Throughout the speech, my mind kept wandering back to a piece by Charlie Pierce that offered up a cynic's take on Barack Obama. "As Obama’s campaign gathered strength, the cynic [Pierce] kept hearing that 2004 speech again, in bits and pieces, in every stump speech Obama gave, and he saw that what Obama was offering was exactly what the country did not need. He was offering absolution without confession, without penance...He was offering a guilty country a nolo plea. Himself. Absolution without confession."It's not quite that simple. George W. Bush is now the least popular president since the advent of modern polling. He has not had the support of a majority of the country in over 40 months. 71 percent of the country now disapproves of his performance. Nixon and Truman have both posted lower favorable numbers, but neither ever elicited such broad disapproval. Bush is the most hated president since we began measuring such feelings. Do those numbers not suggest confession? Is the painful recognition that the country we love is embroiled in a senseless and murderous war not a form of penance? Is the understanding that our nation is off track not an admission of guilt? 
