Chris Matthews wasn't the only person muttering under his breath when Bobby Jindal stiffly walked out onto the stage to deliver the Republican response to Barak Obama's State of The Union address Tuesday night. He was just the only one unfortunate enough to be overheard by a television audience as he did so into an open mike-supposedly accidentally. I say supposedly, because I do have a sneaking suspicion it was done purposely. Had it truly been an accidental occurrence, Matthew's utterance might have been more like my own-
"What in the fuck was that?"
Matthews defended himself by saying it was his response to the stagecraft, not an expression of dismay at the idea of Jindal's predictable reply. Indeed, the stagecraft, for want of a better word, set said stage for what was to follow-a distracting tone accentuated by stiffly karate-like chops of both hands that in total served to distract in almost full measure from the message of Jindal's words, and has in fact been compared to the Saturday Night Live character, perennial candidate
Tim Calhoun. The sing-song, faux folksy voice and smile has also been compared to
Kenneth the Page in 30 Rock.
Since this appearance, which has been panned on a bi-partisan basis, it seems, by Republicans as well as Democrats-and even by many of the
same people who
criticized Matthews for his open-mike utterance-much speculation has been offered as to Jindal's future intentions, and prospects. As such, much digging has went into the Louisiana Governor's background. Of all the things unearthed so far, perhaps the most interesting is an account, written by Jindal himself, of an exorcism of a female friend in which he took part, and in fact seems to have played a pivotal role.
Unfortunately, the entire article in the
New Oxford Review is not available to any but subscribers, but thankfully the opening portion which is available tells you a great deal about Jindal. It might even hint slightly at the origins of the "demoniac possession".
Though she had not said anything, I knew something was wrong. Susan and I had developed an intimate friendship; indeed, our relationship mystified observers, who insisted on finding a romantic component where none existed. I called her after the University Christian Fellowship (UCF) meeting -- UCF is an Inter-Varsity Christian group composed of undergraduate and graduate students. Though the interdenominational group's weekly program of songs and prayers had produced the usual emotional high among most members, Susan had left the meeting in a very sullen mood. I asked her to join a group of us who were attending a Christian a cappella concert to be held on campus that same evening.
Despite our intimacy, Susan and I had not spent much time together this past year. We had succumbed to pressure from our friends and decided we should not be so emotionally interdependent without a deeper commitment. To be honest, my fears of a relationship and the constraints of commitment had kept us apart; our friends' objections merely provided a convenient excuse. Still, I felt comfortable asking her to come to the concert, and she accepted the invitation. Though Susan appeared composed throughout the concert, her sudden departure in the middle of a song convinced me otherwise and affirmed my earlier suspicions.
There was no doubt in my mind that I had to leave my friends and follow her outside. I was not exactly sure what I would do or say, but I knew I had to run after her. I found that she had not gone far, but was sobbing uncontrollably outside the auditorium. Since we had been very careful to avoid any form of physical contact in our friendship, I was not sure how to respond. My inaction and her sobs produced a very awkward situation. Fortunately, a female friend who followed us out was able to comfort Susan with hugs and soothing words of reassurance; her quick action was in stark contrast to my paralysis. Once Susan had regained her composure and fell silent, I knew I had to intervene. The female friend meant well, but did not know Susan well enough to provide the advice Susan was sure to seek.
Not even knowing the cause of this raucous scene, I asked Susan if she would like to talk, and volunteered to walk her home. Wanting to avoid any additional embarrassing scenes, I thought it best to remain in silence while we walked. I dared not cause another emotional outpouring until we were safely behind closed doors. When we finally reached her dorm room, I promptly sat Susan on a bed and placed myself in a chair located several feet across the room. This physical arrangement was hardly conducive to the love and support I was supposed to be providing, but I was too scared and unsure of myself to get any closer.Jindal's article, the rest of which is unavailable, supposedly goes on to relate how he encouraged the girl to recite certain Bible passages, many of which contained the affirmation that Christ is Lord. She was unable to repeat the phrase, but after so long, after evidently passing out, she recovered and seemed to be "healed". She even smiled and asked what happened.
This seems to be the kind of story that almost seems tailor made to go into the annals of political folklore, much like Washington's chopping down the cherry tree, or Lincoln's walking several miles to return loose change, or William Henry Harrison's log cabin and hard cider days. Only this might be considered the perfect story to appeal to the Republican Christian conservative base, but unfortunately not much of anybody else.
Not that this account disqualifies him in my view, at least not on the face of it, but it does suggest several points.
One, those of strict religious beliefs tend to be also the most ideological and immovable. This can be good or bad, depending on the situation, but the fact that he would openly write something like this, even in a subscription web-site, suggests that he is very devout, or very deluded-or possibly very self-serving and manipulative. In fact, Jindal's parents are apparently devout Hindus who did not approve of his conversion to the Catholic Church, right about the same time he inexplicably changed his name to Bobby after one of the boy characters in the old Brady Bunch series. What to make of all this?
The problem with Jindal is, this history will be enough of a distraction, without the added problem of a false and insincere sounding speech delivery. Some would even call it phony. I would be one of them. Naturally, you can put this down, possibly, as a certain discomfort at appearing on the national stage for the first time, giving a response to the President of the United States, a man with yet high poll approval numbers-still over 60%-and who is obviously a gifted speaker. Barak Obama is a man who, despite the very real opposition against him, most people want to succeed.
There was nothing wrong with the words of Jindal's speech. The problem was, there was nothing new about them, nothing to invigorate or excite. The red meat thrown to the GOP faithful, still so relatively close on the heels of a solid election defeat, left the rest of us cold.
But, in the final analysis, it wouldn't have mattered regardless. Jindal failed in his mission the second he stepped onto the stage. Everything that followed, the mannerisms, the phony smile and wooden yet sing-song, deliberate folksy voice accentuated by the hand chops, all of which served to make him appear robotic, just sealed his fate, one it would have been hard enough to extricate himself from regardless of how well he spoke.
Many people are going to take exception to my view of Jindal's speech. If so, I would suggest you look at it this way.
Suppose Sarah Palin had been chosen instead of Jindal to give the rebuttal speech. Suppose she was the one who strolled out from the back of the stage, only in her case, she wore nothing but high heels and a semi-see through gown which drew attention to the shadowed genital area, under the kind of stage lighting that forced you to keep your attention focused despite yourself on her body-your eyes drinking in first her waist, and then her hips, thighs, etc.
From that moment on, it wouldn't matter what she said, would it? Of course not. Whatever she had to say at that point, no matter how relevant, valid, or well said, would be lost. Nevertheless, if what she said came across as wooden, phony, and insincere, it would most certainly be noted by her detractors. Why? Because delivery is everything.
Jindal's delivery was like that. Horrid, without any sex appeal, or any other kind of appeal. And it all started to go wrong the minute he walked out onto the stage.
And that smile, as he was walking out on the stage. That ghastly, horrid smile. Were you in your home and suddenly see this creature appear from the shadows, you would have to think, here is a dangerous man.
Indeed, Bobby Jindal is a dangerous man. Not because he is religious, or ambitious, or shallow, or insincere, or even because of his ability or lack thereof.
He is dangerous because he just isn't ready for the prime time so many people would seek to thrust upon him. That's just the problem. By the time the GOP party establishment is through with him-and also by the time they're through with Palin, for that matter-he, and she, will have turned into pale and hollow caricatures of their true selves, their individual talents and ethics sublimated to the ideological dogma of the party elites that from this point on are on the hunt for the proper image to present to the public-not the true face of the candidates with all their appeal, along with their true convictions and ideals-but a mere projection of the Republican Party, or more aptly put, the image the Party wants you to buy.
In this case, they seem to have their work cut out for them. In both cases, they will most assuredly work to co-opt the message and persona of the candidates to their own benefit, before the candidates have the slightest opportunity to make the party their own.
In both cases, as in all such cases, buyer beware. You don't necessarily always get what you pay for.
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