“This sounds odd, but except for this very big thing that he had done that was bad, I thought I was married — I believe [I am] now — to a magnificent man, someone who truly cared about other people,” says Elizabeth Edwards about her husband, ex-Senator and presidential candidate John Edwards.
No. If you wish to forgive him and spend the remaining year of your life with him, that is entirely your business. But John Edwards doesn't truly care about anything but himself. It's not even fair to talk about "this very big thing" as if it were one thing. He cheats on his wife, lies to her by denying it, then lies to her by telling her that it was a one-night stand instead of a long-term relationship. This would be damning enough if it stopped there, but he is also doing all of this while running for the Democratic nomination for President of the United States, a goal that he must know that he is incapable of achieving given his life choices. When your mistress gets pregnant and decides to keep the child but never reveal who the father is, it's time to end the campaign. You've got your beloved wife with Stage 4 cancer, so you'd look like a winner and you'd become such a historical after-thought that not even the National Enquirer would waste ink on your infidelity. Instead you keep going, ensuring that you will be newsworthy when the fatherless baby of a woman in your inner circle is born which will be a roadbump for both you and all of the Democratic candidates. Because you're not thinking about anybody else.
Rawr. I used to be on the "personal indiscretion between a man and his wife" bandwagon who would accept her forgiveness as my own, but not any more. In politics, a healthy long-distance marriage is used a symbol of trust and stability. Conversely, breaking it is really a part of violating the public's confidence. You make campaign promises and swear an oath to defend the Constitution if elected, so I have a passing interest in how you uphold your promises and oaths to your wife. And it seems pretty unforgivable that you would accept campaign contributions and enjoin volunteers on a quest that was so far beyond quixotic that your own senior staffers were planning on sabotaging it for the sake of the party if you came too close to success.
Seriously, new rule. Gentlemen, if you can't keep it in your pants, stay in (or return to) the private sector. The money is better, the scandal is reduced when (when!) you are discovered, and you don't kneecap your political ideals by putting your colleagues on the defensive or your opponents into office. You are not so irreplaceable that it is worth the shitstorm that you bring onto yourself and your agenda.
No. If you wish to forgive him and spend the remaining year of your life with him, that is entirely your business. But John Edwards doesn't truly care about anything but himself. It's not even fair to talk about "this very big thing" as if it were one thing. He cheats on his wife, lies to her by denying it, then lies to her by telling her that it was a one-night stand instead of a long-term relationship. This would be damning enough if it stopped there, but he is also doing all of this while running for the Democratic nomination for President of the United States, a goal that he must know that he is incapable of achieving given his life choices. When your mistress gets pregnant and decides to keep the child but never reveal who the father is, it's time to end the campaign. You've got your beloved wife with Stage 4 cancer, so you'd look like a winner and you'd become such a historical after-thought that not even the National Enquirer would waste ink on your infidelity. Instead you keep going, ensuring that you will be newsworthy when the fatherless baby of a woman in your inner circle is born which will be a roadbump for both you and all of the Democratic candidates. Because you're not thinking about anybody else.
Rawr. I used to be on the "personal indiscretion between a man and his wife" bandwagon who would accept her forgiveness as my own, but not any more. In politics, a healthy long-distance marriage is used a symbol of trust and stability. Conversely, breaking it is really a part of violating the public's confidence. You make campaign promises and swear an oath to defend the Constitution if elected, so I have a passing interest in how you uphold your promises and oaths to your wife. And it seems pretty unforgivable that you would accept campaign contributions and enjoin volunteers on a quest that was so far beyond quixotic that your own senior staffers were planning on sabotaging it for the sake of the party if you came too close to success.
Seriously, new rule. Gentlemen, if you can't keep it in your pants, stay in (or return to) the private sector. The money is better, the scandal is reduced when (when!) you are discovered, and you don't kneecap your political ideals by putting your colleagues on the defensive or your opponents into office. You are not so irreplaceable that it is worth the shitstorm that you bring onto yourself and your agenda.
Re: Other than that, how was the play, Mrs. Lincoln?
Date: 2009-05-12 05:08 am (UTC)long-distance? :)
i think there is much wrong with the symbolism. it seriously discriminates against people who can't, or won't get married (and i know several in the latter categories whom i'd much prefer as my political representative than people with a "healthy" marriage such as, oh, mccain's).
i do think what edwards did was very stupid and selfish. not so much the affair (though i don't think highly of cheaters). but running for president with that huge skeleton in his closet. that could have left the democrats in the ditch, and the country with another 4 years of republican rule. that was profoundly selfish, or megalomaniac, of which two i sorta prefer the selfish option.
i don't think that means he doesn't care about other people; people are complex and can be caring and selfish. but it means he's shown some seriously bad judgment under high pressure.
Do NOT WANT as a president.
Re: Other than that, how was the play, Mrs. Lincoln?
Date: 2009-05-13 01:03 am (UTC)Among everyone who cheats on their wives, I come closest to having sympathy for national politicians because we take a charismatic good-looking guy, give him fame and power, and then demand that he spend half of the year sleeping away from his wife. That probably hits hard against the Bill Clinton / John Edwards sort of guy who got into politics because he genuinely loves people and wants to help them. And We the People are not completely innocent in that, in the same way that we're a bunch of shlubs for thumping our chests against casual use of heavy drugs but loving The Beatles and Robin Williams when they were at their peaks. But I don't know how much of it is on us and how much is on them and how much is just unavoidable tragedy.
I am going to stay mad at him because I can't think of a justification for staying in the race that isn't drenched in white knight solipsism and ultra-elitism. The nicest one I've come up with so far is "The poor *deserve* to be cared for by me, and they will defend me out of self-interest." And, just to lay my cards on the table, I'm this mad at him because I had hoped that he would become a great President someday and I don't like it when my own judgment is made to look so foolish.