convention (n.): an established technique, practice, or device

The Democratic National Convention convenes in Denver today, and I have good news for all of you: I won’t be live-blogging it.  In fact, I’m only really interested to see Obama’s acceptance of the nomination (natch) and Action Joe Biden’s speech, which I’m excited about for the following reasons:

1.  I like Joe Biden and am glad that Obama picked him.  Yeah, he’s an insider, but he’s a true straight-talking, no bullshit kind of guy, and Obama, whose reputation as a straight-talking, no bullshit kind of guy has started to become tarnished by closer examination of his rise to power and quavering support among old-guard black leadership, could use a smart guy who isn’t afraid to speak his mind.
2. Joe Biden is a loose cannon.  He’s said some profoundly tone-deaf shit about Indian immigrants and 7-11s, he bragged about his state having been a slave state in a perverse attempt to appeal to southerners, and he referred to Barack Obama as “the first mainstream African-American who is articulate and bright and clean and a nice-looking guy”. You can tell he always has the best intentions — he meant “clean” as “without skeletons in his closet,” and he was trying to insinuate that Indians are hard-working and entreprenurial — but his apparent inability to form a thought before it emerges from his mouth (or at least to assess his words for political boneheadedness before uttering them) ought to lead to some delightful high jinks, if not at the (highly scripted) convention, then over the next few months.
3. Joe Biden once accosted my friend Pete in the coat check of a restaurant.  “I’m Senator Joe Biden,” said Senator Joe Biden.  “Will you come with me a second?”  Taken aback, Pete followed the senator back to his table, where Biden proceeded to remark at length to his dinner companions about how much Pete looked like his nephew, Bloody Social guitarist Jamie Biden, before thanking him and letting him go.

But political conventions themselves are relics of a bygone era in American politics.  Specifically, I’m talking about the era when political conventions were effectual gatherings of party operatives that created platforms and chose candidates. 

American politics used to be a tightly controlled, oligarchic enterprise, and it evolved that way because the Constitution suggested it be so.  When the United States was founded, only the House of Representatives was constitutionally decreed to be elected directly by the people.  The Senate was to be selected, two by two, by each state’s legislature — a practice that only ended with the Seventeenth Amendment in 1913.  Electors in the Electoral College were appointed by state legislatures rather than elected by popular vote in a number of states up until 1832 (and by South Carolina right up until they decided freedom wasn’t for them, in 1860).

So it should come as no surprise that political parties followed similarly undemocratic lines throughout the gloriously corrupt 19th century.  The presidential primary didn’t exist until the Progressive Era — prior to that, candidates were selected by party bosses and their various lackeys in proverbial smoke-filled rooms.  This made conventions interesting and worthwhile, even if it did render the entire concept of democracy a little bit farcical.  As Boss Tweed said, “I don’t care who does the electing as long as I get to do the nominating.”

Today, therefore, the parties’ nominating conventions are four-day publicity stunts that get free television coverage.  Which begs the question: why are they so lame?  If the convention serves no practical purpose, why isn’t it wholly given over to bread and circuses, nationally televised exhibitions to thrill and delight (and build brand awareness in) the American populace.  The current format resembles nothing more than the world’s worst Friar’s Club roast.  If I were Howard Dean, the DNC would have much more in common with the Olympic opening ceremonies.  Or Cirque du Soleil.  Or for fuck’s sake, anything to make people tune in.  Put Bill Richardson, Hillary Clinton, Evan Bayh, Nancy Pelosi and Dennis Kucinich in a funhouse with hidden cameras and see how long it takes them to kill and eat one another.  This is spectacle, people – you’ve got to do a thing.

Tags: politics, spectacle