What such times call for are the qualities and strategies Miller colorfully described: "No matter what spider hole they may hide in or what rock they crawl under, George Bush wants to grab terrorists by the throat and not let them go to get a better grip."
That sounds about right. One can argue with others - or oneself if you're Kerry - about how the Democrats would have handled Sept. 11, whether they would have taken the war to Iraq, or how they might negotiate current vulnerabilities. But I suspect Miller's passionate recitation of Kerry's Senate voting record against most military spending, as well as his own voluntary exile from a party he claims puts partisanship above national security, produced a new wave of closet Republicans.
That is, voters who may register Democrat and talk liberal, but who know in their hearts that life is fragile in unfamiliar ways and who prefer the devil they know. Hoping that profoundly bad guys will play nice if we ratchet up our sensitivity is a lethal fantasy, the consequences of which are now being demonstrated for France and Russia.
Following Wednesday night's performance, commentators wondered portentously whether Miller's speech might have (lights flicker as thunder clashes nearby) Unintended Consequences. Most likely it had the exact consequences Miller and Republican organizers had hoped for. Witness Ohioans in the wings.
As Chris Matthews of "Hardball" challenged Miller about some of his claims, provoking Miller to say he wished men could still challenge each other to duel, pollster Frank Luntz was interviewing a group of Ohio swing voters, who described Miller's speech as: fantastic, very upbeat, energetic, surprising, focused on the family, powerful but one-sided, intellectual, dynamic and on-target. Only one woman said he was "totally overboard."
In other words, Miller played well in places where spin is a cycle on the washer. If there were any Bubbas undecided before Miller, there aren't anymore. You can bet your duck blind on that.