Much Ado About Michele

By Frank Bruni, The New York Times

24 July 11

ichele Bachnamm is the gift that never stops giving.

One week she's confusing the Iowa birthplaces of John Wayne and John Wayne Gacy, two men separated by a bit more than two syllables. The next she's signing a conservative pledge that contains language extolling the family values of slavery. Her library evidently differs from most. It stocks "Uncle Tom's Little House on the Prairie."

If she's not confronting accusations that a church she supported is anti-Catholic, she's navigating charges that her husband, a counselor, practices a brand of homosexual-to-heterosexual therapy known as "pray away the gay." I once tried to pray away the gay. But sometimes a houseguest just won't leave.

The most recent go-round with Bachmann concerned migraines, and what a go-round it has been. The revelation that she battles them led to a second round of stories about whether focusing on that was sexist and then a third round about whether her aides had been too rough with a headache-inquisitive television reporter who pursued her through a parking lot. In ways she means to and ways she doesn't, Bachmann doesn't merely occupy the spotlight. She sets up house there, stuffs it with velour sectionals and lays out a lavish buffet, so that legions of comers are comfy and well fed.

And that bounty - of half-baked history, hardcore religious conservatism, hard-line pledges and so much more - has made her the star of the 2012 presidential race so far, a recipient of at least twice the coverage that any of her rivals for the Republican nomination receives.

But whipping up attention isn't the same as establishing credibility. Vividness doesn't equal significance. And Bachmann's profile at this point is wildly out of proportion to her probable fate in the election and the long-term impact on it that she'll have.

The smart money remains where it has always been: on Mitt Romney. She still lags leagues behind him in fund-raising, and she finished June with less than a third of the cash on hand that he had. Although her collection pace was brisk, she'll be playing catch-up for a while and doesn't have the coziness with big donors that he and others do.

He's the candidate whom not only Republican leaders but also White House officials strongly expect to see on the ticket. When they make allowances for a twist, they talk not of Bachmann but of Texas Gov. Rick Perry, who seems more and more likely to enter the race - and could eat away quickly at her support in particular. Evangelicals worship him.

Sure, Bachmann is positioned to compete strongly in, and very possibly win, the Iowa straw poll in mid-August and the caucus beyond it; South Carolina could be fertile ground for her, too. Yes, a national poll of Republican primary voters that was released early last week gave her a slight edge over Romney. And without question, she has shown more mettle than Sarah Palin, whose breezy ignorance and unfathomable syntax she doesn't share.

But that's a bar so low the world's reigning limbo champ couldn't shimmy under it, and two polls released later in the week had Romney on top, with Perry in second.

While Bachmann was third in one, she was fifth in the other, behind Palin and (he's back!) Rudy Giuliani as well. Like Perry, neither of those two has even declared a candidacy.

Here's what's certain: as she pursues the nomination, the Republican establishment won't line up behind her, because they don't think she has a prayer of broadening her ultraconservative base enough to woo swing voters and topple President Obama. And toppling is what they're all about.

I talked to a bunch of party operatives and analysts last week, and every one of them said that while Bachmann could well cause the early demise of Tim Pawlenty's candidacy and complicate Romney's bid for many months to come, she stands almost no chance of victory. And never did.

So why all the fuss?

She's a bonanza for the news media, which these days have vast acres of not only cable TV but also cyberspace to fill. She's manna for pundits, who can talk only so archly about the vanilla vanguard of Romney, Pawlenty and company. When Bachmann stormed into view, she provided a wanted, needed burst of flavor and color. But flavor and color go only so far. A Delaware woman named Christine O'Donnell can fill you in on that, provided she's not busy with coven duties.

Bachmann has proven a useful pawn for liberals as well, because she conforms to their simplistic nightmare vision of what Republicans are all about and fills them with righteous condescension while sullying the image of the enemy party. As far as they're concerned, the more chatter about Bachmann, the better, and if she somehow manages to beat Romney, well, that will be best of all: one of the luckiest breaks Obama could ever catch.

Beyond that, her biography and ideology accommodate discussions about an especially broad range of hot-button topics. Gender in politics? There was that whole hullabaloo about the Pawlenty adviser who referred to her "sex appeal."

Gay marriage? She built her political career on her war against it. The no-compromise attitude of Tea Party purists in the House? She has vowed not to vote to increase the debt ceiling, no matter the circumstances.

She's like a coat rack with dozens of hooks. You can hang almost anything on her.

So reporters and commentators do, and then they tromp over to the nearby pantry to rummage around there. Bach-mania has become indiscriminate and is now out of hand. For example the gay leaders, television comedians, Twitter-ing entertainment icons (yes, Cher, that's you) and other Bachmann opponents who have lately taken to sifting her husband's voice and mannerisms for any supposedly telltale effeminacy should cut it out. They're trafficking in the sorts of superficial stereotypes they'd excoriate in other contexts.

And the migraine-fixated are putting the cart several time zones ahead of the horse. She's a long way from her Oval Office physical. Besides, the more phlegmatic guys in the pack aren't being subjected to such examinations. For all we know, Jon Huntsman has a plantar wart that's wreaking utter havoc with his stride.