Beto Is Broken And Will Try A Hillary
Beto Is Broken And Will Try A Hillary
Robert Francis “Beto” O’Rourke (D-Furry) is the hipster boyfriend standing next to his polished truck that Daddy bought him for graduation, wondering why the pretty girl that was crushing on him earlier is now sizing up other guys.
In this case, the “pretty girl” is the media, and the “other guys” are the other Democrat primary candidates. It turns out that the Beto the media swooned over when they thought he might have a shot at taking out Ted Cruz (whom the media loathes), is the same slacker dude who “failed up” and now looks like a loser compared to other, more intersectional, more accomplished Democrat candidates.
There’s a reason his biography doesn’t feature much in the campaign. For O’Rourke, the phenomenon on display in that race—failure without negative effects, and with perhaps even some kind of personal boost—is a feature of his life and career. That biography is marked as much by meandering, missteps and moments of melancholic searching as by résumé-boosting victories and honors. A graduate of an eastern prep school and an Ivy League rower and English major, the only son of a gregarious attorney and glad-handing pol and the proprietor of an upscale furniture store, the beneficiary of his family’s expansive social, business and political contacts, O’Rourke has ambled past a pair of arrests, designed websites for El Paso’s who’s who, launched short-lived publishing projects, self-term-limited his largely unremarkable tenure on Capitol Hill, shunned the advice of pollsters and consultants and penned overwrought, solipsistic Medium missives, enjoying the latitude afforded by the cushion of an upper-middle-class upbringing that is only amplified by his marriage to the daughter of one of the region’s richest men.”
“With a charmed life like his, you can never really lose,” an ad commissioned by the conservative Club for Growth sneered last month. “That’s why Beto’s running for president—because he can.”
“A life of privilege,” David McIntosh, the president of the Club for Growth, told me.”
It’s not just Republicans who think this. “He’s a rich, straight, white dude who, you know, married into what should politely be called ‘fuck you money,’” Sonia Van Meter, an Austin-based Democratic consultant and self-described “raging feminist,” told me. “His biggest success is by definition a failure,” she added. “He’s absolutely failed up.”
Even by the experience-light standards of the most recent occupants of the White House—a first-term senator followed by a real estate scion and reality TV star—the notion of O’Rourke’s uneven résumé blazing a path to the presidency is new and remarkable. For the moment, he is trailing and slipping in the polls, but it’s early, and he is still attracting besotted fans. The support O’Rourke built that even allowed this run in the first place did not depend on traditional concepts of meritocracy and diligent preparation. To look deeper into his past, to talk to his friends from his teens and his 20s, to read distant clips from money-losing media ventures, and to talk to voters, too, is to see a different kind of claim to excellence. In the end, O’Rourke’s best recommendation that he can win might be that he knows how to fail big—and then aim even higher.”
Ouch. That’s got to sting a bit after the tongue-bath love that the media initially gave Beto. Between the media growing out of their crush on him, and his dropping poll numbers, Beto has decided to do what any reasonable Democrat would do.
— Byron York (@ByronYork) May 11, 2019
Ah yes, because “reintroducing” yourself after such lavish media attention is sure to go over well. Just ask Hillary Clinton.
This is beyond dumb. Beto, despite his furry and loveable loser image, is no longer the darling of the left-leaning media. He’s now left trailing after the media pretty girls asking, “Is it my breath? Do you not like my truck? Did I stand on your hand when I jumped on that counter? I swear I’ll fix it…”