I Fell From Grace, I Too Became A Dissident

Yesterday, the Washington Post published a profile of blogger Maryscott O'Connor, which I first saw on Skippy the Bush Kangaroo.

SHERMAN OAKS, Calif. -- In the angry life of Maryscott O'Connor, the rage begins as soon as she opens her eyes and realizes that her president is still George W. Bush. The sun has yet to rise and her family is asleep, but no matter; as soon as the realization kicks in, O'Connor, 37, is out of bed and heading toward her computer.

Out there, awaiting her building fury: the Angry Left, where O'Connor's reputation is as one of the angriest of all. "One long, sustained scream" is how she describes the writing she does for various Web logs, as she wonders what she should scream about this day.

She smokes a cigarette. Should it be about Bush, whom she considers "malevolent," a "sociopath" and "the Antichrist"? She smokes another cigarette. Should it be about Vice President Cheney, whom she thinks of as "Satan," or about Karl Rove, "the devil"? Should it be about the "evil" Republican Party, or the "weaselly, capitulating, self-aggrandizing, self-serving" Democrats, or the Catholic Church, for which she says "I have a special place in my heart . . . a burning, sizzling, putrescent place where the guilty suffer the tortures of the damned"?

The photograph accompanying the article is a dead-giveaway. The profile is not meant to present O'Connor in an objective or flattering light. One look at the posture and facial expression and the Post reader who'd never heard of O'Connor could be forgiven for thinking our special blogger's gone 'round the twist. The repeated mention of cigarettes implies she is a selfish mommy who doesn't consider her children's health. The article suggests faintly that her husband has lost control of his wife, whatever that means, and let's not even discuss what sounds like near-beer for breakfast.

I don't know the woman personally. About once a week, I look in on her blog My Left Wing, and I've never had an email conversation with her. I have seen photographs that make Maryscott O'Connor look like a thoughtful, intelligent and rather attractive human being. Here's one now. So the Post's picture, surely one of several taken that day, casts O'Connor as a raving loony, and though I can't vouch for her sanity or temperament, I can tell you something about the press.

A thousand years ago or in the early nineties, the local papers took some notice of my ahhhhtwork, and several sent reporters to interview me. I admit I was confused and flattered but I was also ambitious enough to go with the flow. In the piles of papers on my living room floor sit a stack of newspapers I can't throw away and can't look at for fear of seeing what an ass I looked. You see, you can't tell what your own story seems to be from the outside or to the disinterested, and you can't count on being quoted properly or in context. No matter what you do, how sane you are or how you doctor the circumstances of an interview, you can still sound like a candidate for the nut hatch. In one of those articles, of which I have no recollection of an interview, I sound like an Oprah guest on crack. The experience of reading this bizarre portrait later contributed to my recognition that being famous might well and truly suck, and after my inevitable three-state killing spree, I won't be granting interviews.

Lots of people have experience creating personal images for those in need of publicity, and bloggers should take note this. I'm not saying we need to close ranks and form entourages. The press has finally turned and taken notice of political bloggers and the blogosphere. More interviews will follow, as well as invitations to appear on the news talk shows. I saw Kos on the Colbert Report and thought he carried himself pretty well but he should be careful about giving the impression he might be a weenie in person, and when I say "weenie" I doubt I'm being overly technical about it.

When people see you on TV, in the paper or on the blogs, they're gauging a few things at the same time:
1. Do they like you?
2. Do they agree with you?
3. Do they want to be/hang with/do you?
*Some people go so far as to consider whether they respect you, but even I wouldn't sleep with them first.

The Republicans and by extention their apologists the TV talking heads and the right-wing bloggers utterly mastered this concept some time ago - except for Jonah Goldberg. Ew. The point remains: Americans like to bet the winning pony, and and when they feel like winners because you're a winner, you can be elected president, can't you? No matter how you do it.

I'm not saying centrist and left bloggers have to hire publicity firms and image consultants. I am saying this: be aware that this kind of unforgiving, damaging and painful scrutiny is coming. Get your shit together. No matter how charming and apparently sympathetic the reporter, the press is not on the side of the angels.