Nobody who’s put their name on a ballot in the history of elective office could have wanted voters to know their every thought or intention. There’s no shame in that: Everybody will object to something. This is different.
And there’s no need to go near embarrassing conspiracy theories about presidential nativity to see how Democrats for a decade or so have created CIA-like “legends” around candidates who advance a different agenda once enough voters are fooled.
In the private-sector entrepreneur legend of Mary Burke, something strange seems to surface every week—and that’s when the fishing is slow.
Last week brought new attention to The Legend of the Trek Bicycle European Sales Numbers, which have varied in Burke’s own telling and which the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel—craving a different governor—gamely spun to offer a little something for everyone.
Like so much in the campaign against Governor Walker (it seems decreasingly plausible to call it “the Burke campaign,”) it’s not the magnitude of any given transgression, but rather an endless stream of penny-ante transgressions that, by step two or three in the attempted repair job, betray a comprehensive emptiness.
This is perhaps to be expected from a generation of baby-boom candidates grown up around the idea that wanting something is all that’s required. The creation of a legend seems designed less to conceal a sinister past than to conceal a vacuous one: Today’s premier Democratic candidates tend to be people who have never done anything, yet claim immense prestige.
Democrats lately have offered a constitutional scholar and a business executive who drifted through those positions without leaving a ripple. Republicans, meanwhile, sent a roofing contractor to Congress.
We’d prefer more roofing contractors.