It looked, for instance, like Hillary Clinton and David Letterman were having a big old time, laughing and exchanging quips. But anyone who thought that her appearance was the casual thing it appeared was as naive as my mother some 60 years ago, when a boyfriend took her on a date to see her first wrestling match. The man on the bottom who had been pounding the mat wrenched his head in her direction. Then he resumed pounding the mat. We, of course, are supposed to be a bit sophisticated about these things.
Candidates slip into and out of their roles, with nary a change of costume.
They may employ as many writers as Letterman, and rehearse as carefully, but, unlike Letterman, they want to be seen as statesmen, not entertainers. They want to evoke our trust, even as they pound the mat. The report from Salon last week that networks had submitted program scripts to a White House office for review in exchange for government ad dollars raised the unreality quotient. Confidence in both government and media were appropriately shaken. It's one thing for a government to drop little propaganda leaflets over an enemy's countryside.