A tired song keeps playing8230;

The worst offender 8212; and this week8217;s column is officially apolitical 8212; is Hillary Clinton, who is 8220;running for president because I believe if we set big goals and we work together to achieve them, we can restore the American dream today and for the next generation.8221; Clinton also believes that 8220;we can give people the education and opportunities they need to fulfill their God-given potential,8221; and that 8220;the foundation of a strong economy is the investments we make in each other.8221; Who could possibly disagree?

But maybe that8217;s what it takes to lead the opinion polls, at least at this stage. 8220;Folks, we8217;re a bit down politically right now, but I think we8217;re on the comeback trail, and it8217;s going to start right here,8221; Fred Thompson said recently, speaking to an audience of apparently enthusiastic Virginia Republicans. And no wonder they liked him: This is a man who believes that 8220;it8217;s time to take stock and be honest with ourselves. We8217;re going to have to do a lot of things better,8221; and who tells audiences that 8220;I know we8217;re here for the same reasons: Love of our country and concern for our future.8221;

Well, I, too, feel love of our country and concern for our future, which is why I worry when Mitt Romney says that 8220;it8217;s time for innovation and transformation in Washington8221; was it ever not? or that 8220;America can also overcome the challenges and seize our abundant opportunities here at home8221; does any candidate think otherwise?. Or when Rudy Giuliani promises a 8220;mission of reform and change8221; as opposed, presumably, to a mission of entropy and stasis.

Political campaigns only get interesting when the candidates stop speaking in ringing generalities and infuriating phrases 8212; which doesn8217;t mean that they become successful, or even good for the country. I am also still convinced that voters initially liked George W. Bush8217;s inarticulacy: At least he didn8217;t sound quite as smooth, and ultimately meaningless, as everyone else. Only with time did his natural-born inability to speak English begin to produce infuriating phrases of unique pointlessness: 8220;These are big achievements for this country, and the people of Bulgaria ought to be proud of the achievements that they have achieved8221; was a recent classic.

At the moment, the brightest new hope for the English language is Barack Obama, a fact I didn8217;t fully appreciate until I inattentively picked up what I thought was his best-selling new book, Dreams From My Father. Expecting a dull political tract, I discovered an engaging story of his enigmatic father and his eccentric childhood, full of unexpected observations about race and identity in America and Africa, written with real elegance: 8220;Miscegenation,8221; he writes at one point: 8220;The word is humpbacked, ugly, portending a monstrous outcome: like antebellum or octoroon, it evokes images of another era.8221; Then I discovered that I8217;d read the wrong book: Obama wrote Dreams From My Father 15 years ago, before becoming a political candidate of any kind. Though his recent 8220;elect-me-president8221; book, The Audacity of Hope, has been praised for its prose, the jacket blurb describes it as 8220;Senator Obama8217;s vision of how we can move beyond our divisions8221; to create a 8220;radically hopeful consensus.8221;

I hear what they8217;re saying, but, with all due respect, I8217;m putting off reading it, afraid the deterioration might already have begun. Let8217;s face it, guys: No good writer, however eloquent, can possibly survive a two-year presidential campaign.