I tuned in to the GOP infomercial right before Rick Santorum started his sub-Whitmanesque rhapsody about hands, and I stuck around through 3 Doors Down's brief break from the casinos-and-county-fairs circuit. I'm no good at determining what "works" as a convention speech, since I really have no idea what an undecided voter is going to think of most of this—to me Ann Romney's pitch for her husband sounded extremely contrived, but who knows, maybe there's someone who will go for it. From my seat only Chris Christie seemed capable of giving a rousing address, and that had far more to do with his schlubby charisma than with the platitudes that made up the keynote's actual content. (Christie effortlessly performs the "authenticity" that Romney has such trouble conjuring.) The usual suspects are complaining that Christie was "angry" and gave us no "uplift," which is probably why I liked his speech better than the rest: I'd rather be yelled at by a fat guy from Jersey than smothered with a pillow full of inspirational rhetoric. But again, I'm really not the target audience for these things.
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