Cobb: Clark on Radar

August 20, 2003

Clark on Radar

Way back in the beginning of my blogdays, SPK dropped some info bombs about the Pentagon's disgust with the arrogance of Donald Rumsfeld and his misplaced priorities on Iraq. The short end of the story was that Rumsfeld didn't really care and enjoyed making enemies. If what goes around comes around, we can expect a firestorm brewing in the candidacy of Wesley Clark.

Today I've learned the Donna Brazile is somewhere near the center of that maelstrom and has now dropped hints that the grassroots drafting of Clark is more than just a simple notion. Reciprocity may be forthcoming. It's about time I started looking at Clark more seriously, especially since the Poor Man likes him and I like the Poor Man.

Chances are that there will be no better chance of electing a general to the office of President than 2004, especially if we get hit again. But listen to the way people are talking about him:

He gets his hair cut every two weeks. He swims every day he can, even when he's on the road, and when he can't he runs. Indeed, from the general's head to the general's toes, there's no part of him absent the imprint of his overarching will: He's taut and springy, with wide and slightly hunched shoulders that flare from the constriction of his narrow waist. He is in the habit of sticking his hands in his pockets, especially when he's making a speech, but even his nonchalance is purposeful. People at his speeches can be heard to remark, "He's small" when he glides to the stump, but he's not really; he's around five ten and not so much diminutive as compressed, like a man who never exhales. His stride is at once jaunty and athletic and somewhat artificial, like the stride of a man who has devoted time to teaching himself how to walk . . . as, in fact, he has, after getting shot four times in Vietnam. Taught himself to walk again, without a limp, despite the fact that a quarter of his calf muscle was gone; taught himself to shake hands manfully, despite the loss of the muscle around his right thumb. He had to learn those things because, as his wife says, he was desperately afraid of being profiled out of the Army. Can't be a general if you're a gimp. The only thing he couldn't do was teach himself how to play basketball again, because no matter how many hours he spent alone in the gym practicing his foul shots, he couldn't stabilize the ball. . . .

It sounds like the voiceover on a trailer to a Mel Gibson movie. Be that as it may. From all I can see at DraftClark.com, Cadidate Clark simply looks like a Democrat who is not an obvious idiot.

Posted by mbowen at August 20, 2003 01:02 PM

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