When Veep Meets Virtue
When Veep Meets Virtue
Genuine leadership can emerge from unexpected places. Plus, Newsom, Guilfoyle...and "The Notebook."
Mark your calendar: The VP Debate between Democratic Gov. Tim Walz of Minnesota and Republican Sen. JD Vance of Ohio is on CBS, Tuesday, October 1st.
On a Somewhat Related Note
It's come to my attention that even the most politically savvy among you might not know something all too familiar to us native Californians: Governor Gavin Newsom, the Democrat’s silver-tongued golden boy, was once married to Kimberly Guilfoyle.
Yes, that Guilfoyle, who now serves as MAGA's bargain-bin Mouth of Sauron and Donald Trump Jr.'s…other half. It almost reads like the anti-romance novel. "In the incestuous world of political coupling, yesterday's power duo has become today's ideological nemeses.”
On an even less related note: I always notice how different Guilfoyle looks in photos from her “somewhat decent” era but in the first image, Newsom looks an awful lot like Ryan Gosling! This scene from “The Notebook” comes to mind.
Noah: You just tell me what you want, and I'm gonna be that for you.
Allie: You're dumb.
Noah: I could be that.
When Veep Meets Virtue
Author’s note: Is comparing a sitting governor and vice presidential hopeful to a fictional bumbling aide ridiculous? Absolutely, but when Kamala Harris herself quips that her VP gig is "much more like the show ‘Veep’ than ‘House of Cards,’" I felt somewhat validated. She didn't name-drop Splett but the show's stratospheric absurdity surely infiltrated her analogy. It's perversely reassuring to envision Washington not as a fetid swamp but a kaleidoscopic circus.
When Tim Walz first emerged on the national stage, he exuded a kind of Richard Splett energy from HBO's "Veep"—a show I rewatch with some frequency. Both men seem to have wandered into a career fair and, being the good sports they are, simply rolled with it: Walz, a teacher, reimagined the governor's mansion as a really big classroom and, just like that, he might just be vice president. Splett, a human golden retriever who navigated the labyrinthine corridors of power while serving the vp.
In American politics, where most suits are stuffed with more hot air than a weather balloon, Walz and Splett stand out as accidental prophets of political decency, meritocracy, and evolving ambition. They're the political equivalent of an ovo-lacto-pescatarian (couldn't be me) finding a decent meal on a cross-country trip: improbable, slightly suspicious, but oddly satisfying.
Their parallel journeys of unlikely ascension offer a refreshing counterpoint to the well-worn narrative of predestined or grasping political stardom. Ambition isn't inherently gross, but it often feels that way. (See Marjorie Taylor Greene.)
These two figures, one flesh-and-blood and the other fictional, demonstrate that good people can indeed rise to the highest offices not through Machiavellian maneuvering, but through a combination of hard work, authenticity, and a genuine desire to serve. They embody the idea that leadership can emerge organically from a place of sincere public service, not calculated career climbing.
While Walz and Splett embody this refreshing brand of accidental statesmanship, it's crucial to note that not every political outsider is cut from the same unassuming cloth. Take J.D. Vance, a man whose journey from Appalachian poverty to the Senate should, by all accounts, mirror this narrative of genuine leadership emerging from unlikely places. Yet, Vance stands as a stark reminder that the American Dream can curdles into an American Nightmare. His metamorphosis from “I’m a never Trump guy” to MAGA mouthpiece serves as a cautionary tale: not all who wander into politics retain their integrity. Vance has traded his everyman appeal for the sharp teeth of partisanship—hopefully to his peril.
(And let's not forget the likes of Matt Gaetz, Greene, and their ilk, political bottom-feeders who, with any luck, will soon be nothing more than footnotes in the annals of American political absurdity.)
As our country changes, so too can the paths to power. Walz and Splett stand as testaments to the enduring possibility that in the grand, often cynical theater of American politics, there's still room for the honest, the hardworking, and the unexpectedly capable to take center stage.
But as it turns out, I’m issuing a retraction: Now that I know Walz better, comparing him to Splett is like equating a chess grandmaster to someone who's exceptionally good at Candy Land. Walz navigates political minefields with the precision of a bomb disposal expert, while Splett trips over his own feet and somehow disarms international crises. I’m delighted by both and very grateful the real one is ours.
ICYMI
In Rolling Stone, I wrote that Biden wasn't the disease; he was merely the most visible symptom. Time travel with me back to the Constitutional Convention see why the OG ageists introduced a floor without a ceiling and work up to the present, where this chilling political horror story may just become reality: A victorious Trump leaves us with President J.D. Vance. Suddenly, the euphoria surrounding Kamala Harris as a panacea to our gerontocracy problem seems as woefully inadequate as using a Band-Aid to reattach a severed limb. It wasn’t just misguided—it was a dangerous delusion.
See you soonish! In the meantime, you can find me on Twitter and Instagram and my books on Bookshop, Amazon, and your local bookstore or library. If you’d like me to sign or personalize my books, purchase copies from Oblong.
Ok heard enough. Anyone who thinks CCP loving, snitch line Walz is some kind of American hero isn’t getting another second of my time.