Greetings, all. Welcome to my column, "Political Animal." To put it simply, this column doesn't bother with who's right. Instead, it looks at three questions: Who's ahead? By how much? And how are they doing it?
I'd rather argue over who's winning the horse race than insist that my horse is Abraham Lincoln reborn. There are many groups on campus convinced that their candidate/party/cause is the best one, and a few might actually be right.
But being right is useless without being effective. So keep an eye on this column for a non-partisan rundown of the current political landscape: the fight for the presidency, the battle for Congress and broad political trends. At the very least, you'll pick up a few insights that will impress your parents over Thanksgiving and trick them into thinking their $45,000 a year is paying off.
I'm starting off with a quick look at one of the most interesting, daring and risky candidacies in this presidential election cycle: the stealth campaign of Frederick Dalton Thompson, as seen on TV.
Part of his campaign's success so far has been due entirely to luck. Republicans had been crying into their beers for months over their options: a socially liberal Northeasterner with a soft spot for gun control and immigration (Giuliani), a former governor of - gasp - Massachusetts with the slickness of a used car salesman (Romney) and a senator who had, it seemed, sold his party down the river for interview time with Tim Russert one too many times (McCain).
The atmosphere was perfect for a conservative white knight to ride to the rescue.
Enter Fred. With a solidly Republican record during his eight years in the Senate, no major heresies on policy and a Tennessee twang that radiated folksy common sense, he seemed to be the long-awaited savior of the party.
To an extent, he still has the hearts of party faithful. His slow flirtation with candidacy was handled excellently. By gradually offering little morsels, he whetted the appetites of activists, kept the pundits chattering and garnered tons of free publicity. You can buy TV time, but you can't buy buzz. And for a long while, Fred had buzz in spades.
But lately, the Fred Express has hit some bumps. Part of this was inevitable; after being hyped as Ronald Reagan II by enthusiastic backers, it always hurts when the dings and dents are exposed.
Employed in Hollywood, one of the Right's most cherished punching bags? Not good. A lobbyist since 1975? Ouch. Lobbied for a family planning group seeking to lighten abortion restrictions? That'll leave a mark.
Thompson's ham-fisted response to that particular bit of bad press proves that he may have made it into the top tier of candidates, but he still has his work cut out for him.
At first, he denied the charge. Then he hemmed and hawed about not remembering it, then flailed around by suggesting it was recorded in the books wrong. Finally, his campaign stanched the bleeding by acknowledging the story, downplaying its significance, focusing on his pro-life voting record in the Senate, and waiting for the storm to pass.
That episode proves that there are chinks in the Thompson campaign's armor, especially where his lobbyist record is concerned. With cutthroat strategists on the Romney, McCain and Giuliani campaigns, you can bet those chinks will be exploited.
Don't count Thompson out, but don't order the "FRED '08" bumper stickers yet, either.
