The biggest wet blanket on the debate stage, however, was moderator Tom Brokaw, who also played a kind of military role: Commander of the Clock. Time and again, the NBC newsman inflicted frivolous rules on the candidates that only served to frustrate true debate and the kind of give-and-take that a "town hall" format supposedly encourages. At least twice, Obama started to answer one of Brokaw's questions only to have Brokaw call instead on McCain, which was rude and embarrassing.
Exactly what the rules were remained unclear, even though Brokaw explained them at the start of the debate. He called for "discussion" periods that seemed only a minute long; what kind of a "discussion" is that? If a discussion really did threaten to break out, Brokaw got grumpy and called it off. The least important thing on an occasion such as this are a bunch of arbitrary rules concocted by the debate organizers (with the counsel of both parties, Brokaw insisted).
Brokaw looked old. McCain looked old. Obama looked young.
Members of the studio audience gathered in the hall were chosen from among voters in the area who still identify themselves as "undecided," Brokaw said. How many intelligent, informed Americans still cop to that label? Maybe there is something commendable in waiting the maximum amount of time to make up one's mind about the better of the two candidates, but the audience members were hardly inspired when it came to fashioning questions for them.
Were the relatively minor matters that many of them brought up among the reasons they'd remained undecided? If so, they'd better wake up and smell the coffee -- if they can still afford coffee, that is. The debate had the aura of an almost meaningless ritual being conducted in a soundproof room while outside, panic and calamity were spreading like giant cracks in the earth.
The candidates seemed protected from reality rather than having met on the field of battle to confront it.