Obama is, generally, a thematic speaker. His major orations have almost all been centered around broad themes: The divisiveness of American politics, or the American yearning for change, or the necessity of idealism in a world that all too often rewards pessimism. They have all been aimed at his movement, a set of voters who already agree with his positions and instead seek the enthusiasm that comes only with a sense of broader purpose. His speech tonight, however, was so effective precisely because it was not thematic. Because it did not speak to those who already agreed, but instead tried to convert those who remained skeptical. Tonight, Obama did not call for change. He defined it.It was, without doubt, the most aggressive major speech of the week. Other speakers had assaulted McCain, but the Obama campaign decided, somewhat peculiarly, to leave the construction of the connective tissue to their candidate. And so it was that the arguments against McCain only crystallized on the final night of the Democratic convention. There are, broadly speaking, three lines of attack being pursued. The first is that John McCain is wedded to the policies of the past eight years. In general, this attack has taken the form of speakers reciting the fact that McCain has voted with Bush 90 percent of the time. Tonight, Obama added a new dimension. "Next week," he said, "in Minnesota, the same party that brought you two terms of George Bush and Dick Cheney will ask this country for a third." This is actually the more convincing argument. McCain is right to protest that he is not Bush. But, like Bush, he is a Republican. He is linked to the same donors, philosophies, spheres of influence, concentrations of advisers, and establishment pressures that helped shape Bush. That is the fundamental linkage between the two, the basic source of their enduring commonality. And tonight, Obama added it to the charge. The second is the evolution of the argument that's arisen out of a series of McCain campaign slips and gaffes: Phil Gramm's comment that the recession was "mental," McCain's inability to remember his houses or give a definition of "rich" that included anyone who wasn't a hedge fund manager. "I don’t believe that Senator McCain doesn’t care what’s going on in the lives of Americans," said Obama. "I just think he doesn’t know...It’s because John McCain doesn’t get it." It's not, in other words, that McCain is too rich to be president. It's that in being rich, in being a celebrity senator for 20-some years, he has slowly lost a basic understanding of the lives and struggles of ordinary Americans. And without that basic understanding, he can't possibly work in their interest.The third is the argument that knits the other two together: McCain is wrong. His positions are honestly held, but sadly mistaken. His association with Bush is a problem because it signals his attachment to policies that have been simply wrong, like the war in Iraq and the successive rounds of tax cuts for the rich. His life floating far above the concerns of ordinary people has spurred him to a set of policies that may be right for his class, but are wrong for the overwhelming majority of Americans, whose lives he can't understand. And at times, his judgment is simply awry: His inability to accept eventual withdrawal from Iraq is a tantrum masked as tactics, his unwillingness to talk to Iran is stubborness recast as strategy. The point of experience is that it gives you the tools to reach the right answer. McCain's answers are wrong, and thus his oft-touted experience is useless. OBAMA BEGINS THE GENERAL ELECTION.
Obama is, generally, a thematic speaker. His major orations have almost all been centered around broad themes: The divisiveness of American politics, or the American yearning for change, or the necessity of idealism in a world that all too often rewards pessimism. They have all been aimed at his movement, a set of voters who already agree with his positions and instead seek the enthusiasm that comes only with a sense of broader purpose. His speech tonight, however, was so effective precisely because it was not thematic. Because it did not speak to those who already agreed, but instead tried to convert those who remained skeptical. Tonight, Obama did not call for change. He defined it.It was, without doubt, the most aggressive major speech of the week. Other speakers had assaulted McCain, but the Obama campaign decided, somewhat peculiarly, to leave the construction of the connective tissue to their candidate. And so it was that the arguments against McCain only crystallized on the final night of the Democratic convention. There are, broadly speaking, three lines of attack being pursued. The first is that John McCain is wedded to the policies of the past eight years. In general, this attack has taken the form of speakers reciting the fact that McCain has voted with Bush 90 percent of the time. Tonight, Obama added a new dimension. "Next week," he said, "in Minnesota, the same party that brought you two terms of George Bush and Dick Cheney will ask this country for a third." This is actually the more convincing argument. McCain is right to protest that he is not Bush. But, like Bush, he is a Republican. He is linked to the same donors, philosophies, spheres of influence, concentrations of advisers, and establishment pressures that helped shape Bush. That is the fundamental linkage between the two, the basic source of their enduring commonality. And tonight, Obama added it to the charge. The second is the evolution of the argument that's arisen out of a series of McCain campaign slips and gaffes: Phil Gramm's comment that the recession was "mental," McCain's inability to remember his houses or give a definition of "rich" that included anyone who wasn't a hedge fund manager. "I don’t believe that Senator McCain doesn’t care what’s going on in the lives of Americans," said Obama. "I just think he doesn’t know...It’s because John McCain doesn’t get it." It's not, in other words, that McCain is too rich to be president. It's that in being rich, in being a celebrity senator for 20-some years, he has slowly lost a basic understanding of the lives and struggles of ordinary Americans. And without that basic understanding, he can't possibly work in their interest.The third is the argument that knits the other two together: McCain is wrong. His positions are honestly held, but sadly mistaken. His association with Bush is a problem because it signals his attachment to policies that have been simply wrong, like the war in Iraq and the successive rounds of tax cuts for the rich. His life floating far above the concerns of ordinary people has spurred him to a set of policies that may be right for his class, but are wrong for the overwhelming majority of Americans, whose lives he can't understand. And at times, his judgment is simply awry: His inability to accept eventual withdrawal from Iraq is a tantrum masked as tactics, his unwillingness to talk to Iran is stubborness recast as strategy. The point of experience is that it gives you the tools to reach the right answer. McCain's answers are wrong, and thus his oft-touted experience is useless. 
