Robert Beto O’Rourke, the Foo Foo Dust Candidate

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Robert Francis O’Rourke, the spoiled rich kid, whose billionaire father-in-law helped buy his seat in the House and who he paid back by selling out the poor. What a guy.

He’s a film flam man.

Steve Hilton summarizes it quite well here as he buries Beto in his own checkered career:

Who is Beto O’Rourke really, the teen hacker who imagined “sweet visions” of running over children? Besides being a self-promoting ass with wildly expressive arm movements, he’s a walking cliché with a police record.

When he is not treating us to his dental cleanings or skateboarding on stage to the glee of the college kiddies, he’s throwing out foofoo dust.

There is no substance, but lots of meaningless fluff. Watch him tell Chuck Todd in Waterloo, Iowa, “I get a chance to be part of something that the country badly needs.”

The New Republic Gets Him

The New Republic didn’t even buy what he’s selling, and commented on the fact that his entire campaign is built around his empty platitudes and the fairy dust his adoring fans keep shoveling.

The Profound Emptiness of Beto O’Rourke

. . . His rhetoric is as empty as his platform, his paeans to “coming together” the stuff of Obama fanfic.

O’Rourke’s posts resemble sophomoric creative nonfiction. They’re maudlin, confusing the expression of emotion with profundity. They’re formless, written in a quasi-literary clipped style. And they’re self-serious, filled with banal observations about the experiences that characterize American political life. But these sketches are also littered with stump-speech cliches. . .

O’Rourke lacks any platform whatsoever. He has no signature idea, and we know little about his political positions beyond the mushy centrism he exhibited in Congress.

Yep, that’s about right.

Democrats have awful candidates, but he outshines most.


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