Limed for the Truth

Jospeh Biden as a Presidential candidate is the equivalent of that amazing local band you love that hasn’t quite managed to make it big. The one with the lyrics that almost bring you to tears, every line lifted out of your life. The one with the music that fills every beating vein and joint and muscle and thought. The one that just doesn’t write singles or songs that fit a radio format. The one that might never be famous because of it.

I don’t mean to suggest that Joseph Biden is long winded. In fact it is somewhat remarkable the extent to which his long stint in the Senate has left to him the capacity to express himself without rambling. One needs only to attempt to listen to a certain junior Senator from New York whose unfocused eyes bulge and emptily roll from left to right and right to left with a kind of seasick nausea as her prepared statement drags on and on, boring even herself to the limits of physical endurance, to understand the potency and malignant character of the Senatorial Disease Biden has resisted.

He is, in fact, charming and funny without being undignified in the same way as John McCain, but even more so. He is also capable of bringing his audience near to tears. He connects, he is unpretentious when he quotes Emerson or Keats, he inspires idealism. It is clear that he is well read and is himself sincerely inspired by the works of the men and women he quotes.
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