Beto O'Rourke's blog on the race through D.C. is lyrical and very strange.

Beto O'Rourke has some free time after the loss to Ted Cruz in the Senate last week. So, like a lot of underused and over-educated Web users before him – OK, I guess he's still a member of Congress – he's trying to blog. On Thursday, O'Rourke released a 951-word summary of his morning run to Medium, the "presenter" that celebrities tend to prefer to screenshots of their iOS Notes application.

O 'Rourke likes to document her life as she was lived: Texas Monthly wrote about her fondness for livestreaming, which, according to the magazine, could help O ' Rourke retain the attention supporters that he impressed in the Senate and Texas. somewhere else. And O'Rourke has already focused the bulk of his personal branding efforts on Instagram stories. But a long letter that he sent to his e-mail list over the weekend hinted that he was fumbling in both prose and video. This blog post provides more evidence of how the Beto character translates into text. The piece begins:

I woke up after a good night's sleep. The snow falls in big soft flakes. Salud was taking a shower, so I went to use the bathroom in the basement. I went back up and put on my tights, shorts, long socks, tshirt and jersey. Hat and gloves, my running shoes and was out at 7:45.

O'Rourke is very good in front of the camera. But what to do with his writing? In short, if this guy was attending my creative writing seminar at the university, I would grill him in a group text message with all the women in the class. (But many of these women would have a crush on him anyway, so I should create a splinter group for real enemies). His descriptions and his gestures in poetic language are not bad, exactly, but the stream of consciousness of sentence fragments all build up to a pseudo-depth that screams both "a boy of 19 years discovering the world" and "a message on social media that you will silently and shamefully wipe out in a few years. "

I also disagree with the subject of the play, a 7:45 am race in Washington, DC, the first snow day of the season. For a famous political storyteller, it's a little lazy that he chose to write about physical exercise on a day when time could do all the symbolism for him. The fresh snow as a metaphor for reconsidering the past and going forward? You do not say. So many details – the morning awakening, running although almost no one came out because of bad weather ("There were no tracks in some places, mine were the first footprints in the new snow (Lol), stop contemplating America and democracy (double lol) – paint him as a particularly nerdy political hero and designed by himself.

Nevertheless, I would be lying if I said that this play is not a pleasant adventure in the flowered head of a darling Democrat. If you do not have 951 words in you, here are some other favorite passages. (Be careful, they get a little steamy.)

As I ran northwest on Washington Ave, the snow was biting my face. So full in my eyes while I had trouble seeing. I thought it would be like that for a while, until I went back to the west when I went to the mall.

We have it, you appreciate the cardinal and intercardinal indications.

My left knee started to hurt me. It bores me a bit, I notice it when I bend or when I get up if I played with the children on the floor or on my knees to give Rosie a little love.

Ladies, hot daddy alert.

I arrived on the steps of the memorial and I could hear the horses before seeing them. Their hooves sound against all the walls and marble steps. Two gendarmes in the park, blue helmets, black jackets worn like capes around the shoulders. Wrapped with heavier snow than before.

Worn like capes? Envelope, you say? Damn.

I climbed the steps, another runner in front of me. When I got to the top, he finished a series of pumps. He got up quickly, we got scared while he was coming down the stairs.

My body is warming up, the blood is flowing through me, my legs are moving while I read, the words are so present that I can not describe or explain them, if it is that I am so much more alive to middle of a race, and the same goes for it. the words I read.

It's the part where things start to become uncomfortably hot and heavy! Fitness Bro High, body, blood circulation, leg movements – Beto, I do not know if all your fans who are hot for you can handle that! And yet, everything is getting ready to … read the Lincoln Memorial. The ultimate climax. After that, it's time to flee and face a new direction, both symbolic and real. Slow beat.

He makes us go out:

Melting snow stung my face, I wondered if the winds had changed too.

Find?