Does it make me a bad person if I'm not overly saddened by the death of Paul Wellstone? In a word, well yes, I think it might mean just that. I guess I'll just have to deal with the implications (for the rest of my life!). But, after doing a complete emotional inventory (or a Level 1 Diagnostic, for you TNG fans) I must admit that I have no substantial emotional response to this event. Upon hearing the news, I was shocked for several minutes and then I fast-forwarded through the other stages of the grieving process in about 45 seconds, upon which I immediately began to ruminate on the political impact and repercussions of this event.
Of course, I don't celebrate his death and as I'm involved with humanity, the death of any man diminishes me. And this whole business can rightly be described as a tragedy. The inclusion of his wife and daughter and staff members on the Grim Reaper's butcher's bill further compounds the scope of this untimely loss. But, honestly, the death of Paul Wellstone means nothing more to me on a personal and emotional level than, say, the death of Mel Carnahan in 2000. I think it has affected a similar response to me as the death of any other political figure would, for example a Zell Miller from Georgia or Phil Gramm from Texas. And I dare say if Norm Coleman or Tim Pawlenty would have been killed, my feelings would have been the same. That is, a recognition of the loss of a human being, empathy and prayers for their loved ones, and then back to my life as normal in short order. I think this is an entirely reasonable response to the death of a political figure. But, compared to the media in Minnesota, from Don Shelby's shaking voice and tear stained eyes on Friday night through the editorializing hagiography presented on the front pages and within special sections of the major newspapers, it seems I'm the a-hole here.
I will say that Wellstone was a uniquely potent lightning rod for the adverse political analysis of me and other members of the right wing cognitive elite. Out of respect for a period of mourning, at this time I won't go into the entirely legitimate reasons for his drawing of my ire. But I wonder how the absence of this person, who inspired so much passion in his critics, will effect my behavior? Will I cease to be inspired to think and read and argue over politics as much anymore, since I may not feel the need to respond to the particularly aggressive assault on my political sensibilities by this individual?
I suspect I won't change too much, but I'm reminded of a quote from the 1976 remake of the movie King Kong. Jeff Bridges, playing "Jack Prescott"--an idealistic anthropology professor and Cro-Magnon Man impersonator, is berating the snarky oil company executive "Fred" (played by the snarky Charles Grodin) for taking Kong out of his natural environment for the purposes of economic exploitation. Fred responds by saying something to the affect of "Well, why don't you ask those natives back there on the island how wrong it is!" (Since Kong had acquired a taste for native as a between meal snack). Whereby Jack Prescott responded indignantly, "You've taken away their God, you've taken away their magic, go back there in a year and you'll find nothing but an island full of alcoholics!"
Unfortunately, I couldn't find an Internet source containing those exact quotes from the movie. But trust me, the above paraphrases are generally accurate. The young Jessica Lange's leggy, curvy performance in this movie has captivated me since the first time I saw it as a wide-eyed 7-year-old and her appeal has resulted in (and endured through) many, many viewings since then. The good news is, I did find two other quotes from King Kong that I think also directly relate to the matters at hand:
"There is a girl out there who might be running for her life from some gigantic turned-on ape."
(Jack Prescott)
"Lights! Camera! Kong!" (Fred)
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