Maybe Paris Hilton would make a good candidate in '12

In the “olden days,” as Paris Hilton might describe it, a “wrinkly white-haired guy” like John McCain might have been a shoo-in for president. He’s tough, experienced, and a genuine war hero.

But this is 2008. McCain’s celebrity quotient doesn’t rock.

So now, in the wake of huge Republican losses from the Nov. 4 election, the Grand Old Party is destined to wander in the wilderness until it learns to reinvent itself. It is perhaps proof of the party’s present state of bewilderment that Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin — who was virtually unknown before McCain tapped her as his vice presidential choice — now has the support (according to a Rasmussen post-election poll) of 64 percent of Republicans for president in 2012.

Sure, character counts. But celebrity counts more. Celebrity, in fact, seems to be the key to winning elections nowadays. When you’d expect Republicans to be talking about returning to their core values following their Nov. 4 meltdown, they are focused on devising strategies to locate and run exciting new candidates (i.e., celebrities) capable of changing the party’s image as the last refuge of stodgy southern white guys to one that’s on the cutting edge of cool.

Oprah, of course, would be perfect. But she’s probably holding out to run as Obama’s veep in ’12.

With that in mind, may I offer a suggestion?

Paris.

You’ve gotta admit she has the celebrity angle covered. She’s already made a foray into presidential politics with a famously entertaining video responding to McCain’s unflattering comparisons of her to that other political celebrity, Barack Obama. The YouTube audience loved Hilton’s take on solving the energy crisis. And you gotta assume she’d draw some of Barack’s media-savvy, celebrity-crazed young voters to her side.

Now, we don’t really know if Paris is a Republican or a Democrat. Heck, we don’t even know if she knows what those words mean. But it’s all about celebrity today, and that would explain why ever since the Clinton era presidential candidates would rather appear on David Letterman’s show than on “Meet the Press.”

Consider the 2008 McCain-Letterman dance. Despite being pilloried regularly by late night’s favorite pinhead, McCain couldn’t keep himself away from Dave’s couch. Because he canceled one appearance he had to endure extra doses of ridicule. So he finally returned to chat with Dave, grinning through still more wisecracks.

In saner times, McCain would have maintained his self-respect by bypassing this kind of treatment. But it’s a new day. To appeal to the wider celebrity-mad culture, a candidate must be insulted by the comic kingmaker and then come back for more.

Anyone questioning whether America has entered into a dangerous new world of celebrity-driven politics, take a look at the amazing Sarah Palin makeover. Virtually overnight since Nov. 4, the VP blamed for sinking McCain’s already-slim election chances is now the GOP presidential frontrunner. She gave smiling interviews to Fox News and “The Today Show” from her kitchen, leading to rumors (really) of her starring in a cooking show, then dished on those who dished on her. Wicked, no?

Sure, the mainstream press savaged her when she was foisted unprepared onto the national scene, and now — showing no more command of the issues than before — the press loves her. While other governors with better credentials (Louisiana’s Bobby Jindal, South Carolina’s Mark Sanford and Minnesota’s own Tim Pawlenty) went largely unnoticed last week at the Republican Governors Conference in Miami, the press followed Palin like groupies at a rock concert.

The press clearly loves celebrity as much as the rest of America. The latest example: The New York Times, the Newspaper of Record, has named rock star Bono as one its op-ed page regulars.

So let’s go with the flow, I always say. Celebrity rules. Hilton-Palin. Or Palin-Hilton. Whatever. Letterman will love the ratings.



Doug Wolter is night news editor at The Free Press. To contact him, call 344-6384 or e-mail at dwolter@mankatofree

press.com.