Apparently, in reaction to the reality that the youth vote is fading on Obama, a memo has gone out from the campaign to the mainstream media, Democrat operatives, Hollywood moneybags, and all the ships at sea. It’s message was succinct: “Obama Hip, Cool! Romney Square. Peace-and-Drones Out, Daddy-O.”
Do an internet search of “Obama cool” this morning and there is an embarrassment of riches:
The New Yorker: Mr. Cool; Obama and the Hip Factor
Chris Cillizza at the WaPo didn’t even break a sweat: Obama is Cool; Mitt Romney isn’t
Julia Louis Dreyfus in the Politico: “He’s hip, he’s young; he’s not square.”
Gawker: Is Obama too Cool?
There’s more, that’s just a sampling. The snap-to-it-obedience of the press as regards the latest memo is so obvious and so complete that IBD has observed It’s cool to be in the tank for Obama, even as Glenn Reynold’s wonders What makes Obama a “cool kid” exactly:
The raids on marijuana clinics?
The opposition to gay marriage?
The drone attacks?
The Mom Jeans?
Just wondering. . . .
In my column today, I admit to never having been “cool” myself, but I still know it when I see it.
I can only judge by past observation, but it seems to me that the first rule of being cool has always been that if you really are cool, then no one ever has to say it about you, because your “coolness” is as self-evident as the truth that all men are created equal.
If it is not obvious—if your friends in the media have to actually tell people that you’re “cool”; if they actually have to use that word, or “hip” or “square”, then you’re probably not genuinely cool.
The quality of “coolness” contains within it an attitude of discrete detachment, which is not the same as aloofness. It suggests an intellect attuned to a different frequency—perhaps to a higher muse—but still comfortable sharing the ground with the rest of us. Its muted confidence is so supreme that it bears no ill-will and holds no grudge against anyone who doesn’t “get” it, and that makes a cool cat more than likeable; it makes one slightly mysterious, and thus fascinating.
“Coolness” is not thin-skinned; it does not clench its teeth in anger; it does not overreach; it does not flail; it does not indulge in braggadocio; it does not make lists of enemies because its enemies already know who they are—they’ve been informed thusly, face-to-face, and usually with a smile and a perfectly chosen, personally meaningful gift. It does not sweat minutia. Genuine coolness knows it is not perfect and often acknowledges a blown occasion with a good-natured shrug rather than an apology, because coolness understands that not every mistake demands an apology—of others or oneself—and that too many apologies, offered too easily, signals a propensity toward the cheap and the meaningless.
You can read the rest here and see how our “cool” president stacks up against those qualities, and my perhaps surprising thoughts on who the two coolest cats on the world stage might be.
If you have to work at being cool, or surround yourself with sycophants who want to be cool, too, you’re not cool. Deep down, even the Jets knew it, which is why they had to lash out in insecurity and wounded pride.
UPDATE: The other thing cool does not do? indulge in ego-boosting braggadocio. Particularly when it exceeds reason
Bookwormroom: Obama’s too sexy…