Volume 4, Issue 1, Fall 2000

My Governor Can Whup Your Governor's A..: Jesse Ventura Wrestles the Local Press to A No Decision - A Rhetorical Analysis of the Playboy Scandal
Carl Isaacson

In November of 1998 the citizens of Minnesota shocked political analysts everywhere and gave a plurality of votes to the Reform Party candidate, Brooklyn Park Mayor, Radio talk-show host and former professional wrestler Jesse Ventura. Ventura beat two respected political leaders for the state's highest office, Minnesota Attorney General Hubert (Skip) Humphrey III and St. Paul Mayor Norm Coleman. Almost immediately Ventura was embroiled in controversy with the local press. He made no secret of his distaste for the press, and they made no secret that they considered him boorish, loud, offensive and "unprofessional."

In his first year in office the Governor attracted an inordinate amount of national attention. Early in his administration Ventura appeared on David Letterman's late night program and derided the Irish. He was soundly taken to task for his "drunken Irishmen" gaff. Following the Columbine school shooting, Governor Ventura opined that the presence of armed guards would have made the school safe, a comment which began a minor firestorm in Minnesota. (For more Governor Ventura quotes, see one of his "fan" sites, The Ventura Files.) His national media exposure was capped in the fall of 1999 with the publication of a Playboy interview (November, 1999 (1)).

Between his inauguration and the appearance of the interview, relations between the Governor and the press were rocky. They reached a breaking point during the Governor's appearance at the Minnesota State Fair when he threatened to cancel his subscription to the St. Paul Pioneer Press, alleging unfair coverage. Regular press conferences and local interviews had all but been discontinued by September. The Governor made no secret of his discontent with the local press, complaining of bias and intrusion into his personal affairs. The press complained that they had never had less access to an elected state official, and argued the citizenry was threatened by this lack of information (see "The Honeymoon is Over, Now Comes the Divorce" at Minnesota Public Radio's archive). Meanwhile, Governor Ventura continued to schedule interviews with national news media, and conduct a Friday morning radio talk show. The conflict between the Governor and the Press, while not quite as brutal as a World Wrestling Federation's television show, "SmackDown!" did at times become ugly. Ultimately neither the press nor Ventura were able to pin their opponent.

In order to better understand the dynamics of this particular press/government relationship I conducted a rhetorical analysis of coverage in the Minneapolis Star Tribune during the period surrounding the Playboy "scandal" (primarily October 1 through 18, 1999). One of my analytical tools in this study is the preliminary results of the Project for Excellence in Journalism's (PEJ) Framing the News study. In that work, the Project and Professor Jay Rosen of New York University, along with Princeton Research Associates, developed a taxonomy of narrative frames employed in news reporting.(2) That study looked at the front page of seven major U.S. newspapers between January 1 and February 28, 1999. From their close reading, the researchers identified thirteen narrative frames, five story triggers, and eight underlying messages. This last category is the most tentative of the three, having the least agreement in the coding group. Nevertheless, examining the Ventura Playboy controversy's frames and triggers will shed light on the controversy's underlying rhetorical message.

Yet, even while I rely on PEJ's results, I must note some methodological difficulties. The primary difficulty is the isolation of the front page from the rest of the news. While I do not dispute that the front page above the fold is the strongest position for a news piece, I do dispute the atomization of the news carried in the paper. That is, front page news does not exist apart from the rest of the paper. Of nearly equal importance to front page above-the-fold stories are those stories to which the reader is directed on the front page. Newspapers commonly direct reader attention by page straps, subheads, sidebars, and by locating related stories near the continuation of front page stories. Because the PEJ study looked exclusively at the front page story, and did not account for the methods used to get readers interested in the rest of the story, the study's statistical analysis is highly limited. Moreover, it does not examine the issue of greatest importance to communication scholars: the rhetorical nature of the total coverage.

What I mean by rhetorical is that the newspaper not only communicates information, but also shapes the world views of its readers. Newspapers suggest to the readership who is worthy of praise and blame, what the future will hold if a proposed course of action is taken, and who is guilty of what crimes. Thus newspapers are classically rhetorical, with news stories fitting the Aristotelean genres of Forensic, Deliberative and Epideitic rhetoric. Looking at the total coverage of the Ventura Playboy scandal, I find that it had a strongly epideitic character, i.e., it was largely the rhetoric of praise and blame. Moreover, I argue that the rhetorical thrust of this coverage was not conveyed by one article alone, but by the totality of the coverage. It was the series of stories as well as choices made about placement, size, and emphasis which created a rhetorical image from which the local audience constructed a less than sympathetic view of the Governor and his opinions. In relating this to PEJ's frames, looking at the total coverage I find that the vast majority of pieces fit into one of the combative frames, even when they seem or purport to fit into frames such as conjecture, trend, or personality profile.

The primary material for my analysis is The Minneapolis Star Tribune. I chose this paper rather than The Saint Paul Pioneer Press or national sources because the Star Tribune: (1) is the larger circulation local paper, (2) maintained a relatively good relationship with the Governor, and (3) it had a consistent rhetorical point of view evident throughout the scandal period. My analysis leads me to the conclusion that the Governor and the Star Tribune have been and continue to be engaged in a battle of synecdoches, using that term as Burke does in Grammar of Motives (504).

While local press coverage will be the focus of my analysis, national press coverage of Governor Ventura, as well as coverage of other politicians, will also briefly be examined in order to compare and contrast certain aspects of this rhetoric with the Star Tribune coverage. In addition, I will examine popular opinion of Ventura, his leadership, his policies, and his communication with the public, looking at his presence on the Internet. These contexts provide a decided difference in the view of Ventura, and a more balanced view of the scandal and the person than in the Star Tribune or the national media. In general, both national and local coverage were aptly summed up by Japanese ad agency executive, Masaru Ariga, interviewed by  Minnesota Public Radio (MPR) reporter Martin Kaste during the Ventura trade mission to Japan (November 3, 1999). "I know that I've been influence by media coverage. They tend to make fun of him, you know."

A few days before Ventura's Playboy interview appeared on the local newsstands, several local news outlets broke the story of the interview. This was the first notice that Twin Citians had of the interview. (While the Star Tribune articles are available only in their archive, and only for pay, Rochelle Olson's Associate Press dispatch from September 30, 1999, is preserved on the Slam Wrestling home site.) These first television reports focused on Ventura's comments on religion, the Navy's Tailhook scandal, the Kennedy assassination, and re-incarnation. Neither the early television coverage nor the first printed stories quoted directly from the interview. Excerpts from the Playboy interview appeared in the Minneapolis Star Tribune on October 1, 1999, with very brief quotes from the interview isolated from their context within the totality of the printed interview.

Throughout the first weeks of October the Governor's view of religion, his standing in opinion polls, and reaction from local (and national) politicians were played above the fold on page one. This front page, above- the-fold coverage was fairly consistent throughout the scandal period, with 8 of the 14 issues containing Ventura scandal pieces giving at least one Ventura interview story this placement. Thus, the very placement of the articles, as well as the size of the headlines, gave the impression of immediate importance to the scandal.

In addition, the articles were given a variety of narrative frames, related to a variety of triggers, to use the PEJ parlance. The October 1 press conference story was clearly a conflict story, with the conflict characterized as between the Governor and the people of Minnesota. That story was triggered by statements from government news makers. October 4's poll numbers article was a horse race story, triggered by the release of a poll. Dane Smith's analysis of the fallout from the interview is a trend story, triggered by analysis or interpretation. But, these are merely the apparent narrative frames and triggers. Further analysis leads to questioning the apparent frames. The variety of apparent frames and triggers, however, reinforces the sense that the Governor was in trouble from every point of view.

Within days of the newsstand release of the November Playboy, Governor Ventura held a rare press conference in which he defended the interview and his opinions (9/30/99). Held in the late afternoon, it seemed to be timed for live broadcast during the early evening news. Excerpts from the conference were broadcast live, although the conference in its entirety was not. The Star Tribune bannered Ventura's defense in 72-point type on the front page of its Friday Edition: "My fault is honesty." To the left was a sidebar carrying short quotes from the press conference. A four column by 5.5 inch photo, taken looking up at the Governor while he was delivering his statement occupied the center columns. The growing scandal story thus greatly overshadowed the day's other local, national, and international news: the Minneapolis NAACP's attempt to halt gentrification of a North Minneapolis housing project, the successful containment of a Japanese nuclear accident, and announcement of record high U.S. household incomes. Through position, size, and graphics, the Star Tribune clearly indicated that it felt that the Governor's response to criticism of his interview was the most important story of the day. This pattern continued throughout the next 16 days.

The weekend following the press conference saw a brief lull in scandal coverage. Neither Saturday's nor Sunday's Star Tribune led with a Ventura Playboy story. Even the headlines on Saturday's front page lacked a Ventura slant. Nevertheless, the Ventura interview remained the subject of front page coverage. The Saturday, October 2 , Star Tribune carried a feature on "celebrity politics" on the front page upper-right-hand corner. Headlined "Politics? That's Entertainment," and framed as a trend story, the Bob Sternberg article examined the phenomenon of celebrity politicians. The three column text was flanked by photos of Oprah Winfrey and Warren Beatty, both of whom had been mentioned as potential celebrity Presidential candidates. Despite seeming to have a different focus than the Ventura interview, the piece referred to Ventura in the first paragraph: "Jesse Ventura makes headlines far from the state he governs when he pops off about religion and how he [sic] could become president . . .," two references to the Playboy interview.

The Sunday, October 3 edition again did not lead with a Ventura Playboy interview article, but reported instead on the Governor's "Big Plan," his vision for the state's future. Like the press conference, this story began on page one, in the upper-left-hand column, above the fold.

The Big Plan, a phrase which sounds more like advertising hyperbole than standard political vision rhetoric, is the Ventura administration's major policy initiative focused on four major areas of concern. The schedule for the unveiling of the plan called for four major addresses delivered in four different locations across the state. While the paper led with this "straight news account," it also carried an analytical piece above the fold on page one. That analytical piece, clearly marked, described Ventura's offenses against Minnesota propriety. It appeared in the two right-hand columns of the front page, and concluded on page A14 in the Saint Paul edition of the paper.

Five pages after that analytical piece's continuation, (A 19) Star Tribune Washington correspondent Tom Hamburger reported on former Connecticut Governor Lowell Weicker's appearance before a Reform Party splinter group. Governor Ventura's Playboy interview and purported growing local criticism were reported to be a major factor in Weicker's declining to run for the presidency under the Reform Party banner. The headline and subhead, "Weicker frets over Reform credibility: He fears White House run could be 'fools errand,'" may have alluded to the Ventura interview or may simply have alluded to the general difficulties facing the Reform Party. While Weicker's reported comments focused on splits within the Reform Party, Hamburger's story gave a recap of the Ventura interview and controversy in paragraphs three, four and five, interrupting the flow of Weicker's comments to this splinter group of the Reform Party. Within the story itself, Weicker's positive spin on Ventura's comments were buried in the middle of the story (paragraph 16 out of 21), and negative information about the Governor (e.g., that he was called upon to resign from the party; Weicker's belief that the Reform party is on the verge of becoming a joke due to current zaniness) at the beginning and end of the piece. The piece was framed as a "straight news account." But within that frame, reporter Hamburger kept the interview as one of several foci of the piece. Thus the interview remained either on the front page or in the front section, through the weekend following Playboy's newsstand appearance.

Hamburger's story contained a second thread common in the coverage: the mixture of time and space. During the scandal period, the Ventura story was tied to all aspects of politics. Moreover, the most inflammatory comments from the interview, those concerning religion, became the mantra of the local press, repeated frequently as backgrounding information. The rhetorical effect of the repetition of the code phrase "religion is a sham" was to elevate it beyond its importance within either Ventura's political philosophy or the interview.

In addition to repeating the "religion is a sham" phrase, Hamburger included Russell Verney's (outgoing Reform Party chair) remarks in this story, even though Verney was not present at the convention, and is not affiliated with this branch of the Reform Party. Earlier in the same week Verney had insisted that Ventura resign from the Reform Party. However, Verney's remarks were included in this report on a meeting of "100 members of the American Reform Party," which Hamburger acknowledged as "a Reform Party splinter group." As written, the story created a rhetorical synchronicity. Three disparate events were held together as if happening in the same time and place. Thus the most familiar story element, the Ventura interview, became the most significant and substantial event. In other words, no matter where the headline directed attention, the story continued to focus on the Playboy scandal. Moreover, the frame was broken. This story did not simply report on what happened at the American Reform Party meeting. By including Ventura's remarks and Verney's call for Ventura's resignation, the article moved the issue into a more combative narrative frame.

The biggest news of the week following publication of the Ventura interview broke on Monday, October 4. That day's Star Tribune gave front page, seven column coverage to overnight poll results on Ventura's popularity. Called the "Star Tribune Minnesota Poll," this same vehicle had shown Ventura's popularity at an all time high in the summer of 1999, immediately following the distribution to Minnesota's citizens of surplus state funds. October 4 the paper proclaimed: "Ventura's approval rating takes a hit," in a 72-point banner headline. The trigger for the story, reporting poll results, created a rhetorical illusion of objectivity. The fact that the results came in the form of numbers reinforced that sense of objectivity. That the poll was commissioned by the Star Tribune, conducted during its continuing coverage of the story, and therefore open to methodological question, went unmentioned by either the Star Tribune or any other news outlet. ( Go to the Star Tribune and search for Minnesota poll results. The results of the October 2/3 poll are archived. The "rebound" poll, published January 13, 2000 is also archived. A similar poll is posted at http://www.mason-dixon.com/states/Minnesota/main.htm.)

That same edition carried a report on Minnesota First Lady Terry Ventura's emotional state. Announced in a prominent front page strap at the bottom of column two, the report appeared on A6, below the continuation of the day's lead story. Written by staff writers Patricia Lopez Baden and Steve Alexander, the Terry Ventura story was framed as a reaction story. Later reporters admitted that they started the process by seeking reaction from the Ventura's home church. The opportunity to get an emotional reaction from Terry Ventura was not planned, although it made the headline and the sub-head of the piece. The pastor's response to Ventura's "anti-religious" views was the ostensible focus of the story, yet it was clear that the press was more interested in the emotional reactions of the First Lady than in the reasoned response of the clergy. The headline indicated that Terry Ventura was distressed by her husband's behavior: "Tearful First Lady defends governor: 'I am not ashamed of my husband.'" This headline clearly linked Ventura's Playboy interview with the First Lady's distress, even though it is possible to imagine other reasons for her distress (such as not being able to find refuge from the press even in her own church. That she was willing to talk to the press does not mean that their continuing presence and inevitable questions about her feelings toward her husband did not distress her.) Though placed below the fold and on an interior page (A6), the article's proximity to the continuation of the poll analysis, plus the front page strap, made it impossible for readers to ignore. Again, despite the fact that it had an apparent frame as a straight news account, it was clearly a conflict story, with the conflict portrayed as between the Governor's opinions and his wife's emotional well being.

Scandal coverage shifted with the October 6 Star Tribune. The Ventura cover story for that Wednesday concerned the release of the first piece of the "Big Plan," a policy speech delivered in the southwestern Minnesota community of Mankato. Unlike the straight scandal stories, this three column front page story appeared below the fold on the front page. A page strap to the left of the story gave notice of a scandal follow-up: "Two senior Democrats take to U.S. Senate floor to denounce Ventura's comments to Playboy." The related story appeared on the same page as the continuation of the Big Plan story, and featured comments from Democratic Senators Robert Byrd and Christopher Dodd.

October 7th the Ventura scandal was again back on the first page, this time in connection with Ventura's travel plans. Ventura spent Wednesday, October 6 on the east coast, interviewing with Sam Donaldson, appearing at Harvard University, on Chris Matthew's CNBC television show Hardball, and on the David Letterman show. He also taped an interview with Barbara Walters for broadcast on October 8. (See Hardball, Walters and Letterman.) All of Ventura's national media attention was noted in the Star Tribune and would return later in the form of criticism. In contrast to the placement of the Star Tribune's analysis pieces and the results of their own poll, this news of Governor Ventura was placed below the fold. His photo, from the Harvard appearance, rode the fold, with a 48-point headline interpreting the photo above the fold.

October 7 was also the first appearance of the Governor on the Star Tribune's editorial page. His Big Plan was the subject of an editorial headlined, "Ventura's plan: Now some gubernatorial 'smart growth'." Like the rest of the Ventura coverage in this three-week period, the editorial refers to the Playboy interview:

Unfortunately, Ventura's policy work is not the first thing Minnesotans associate with their governor just now. The state is still buzzing over his incendiary interview with Playboy magazine, . . . When Ventura starts talking today to Barbara Walters, David Letterman and their national audiences, Minnesotans will be cringing in fear of what he might say next. (A22)

Local authors Wy Spano and political science professor Dan Hofrenning weighed in with commentary on the Ventura interview and its aftermath. Political cartoonist Steve Sack depicted Ventura as a frog with crown, a reference to Ventura's interview joke that it was "good to be King" of Minnesota. The combined rhetorical effect of these multiple appearances was a clear message that the negative reaction to Ventura's comments was growing. (Ventura used the "good to be king" line much earlier, without causing a ripple. See The Ventura Files.)

The Governor's Playboy interview continued to result in local news coverage through October 18. On October 9, the front page right-hand column headlined Barbara Walters' interview questions about Terry Ventura's relationship to religion. Walters used the phrase from the Playboy interview, "weak minded," in an attempt to further probe Ventura's religious views. Sidebars on this front page referred readers to a transcript of excerpts from the Walters interview, a brief account of an attempt to force a recall of the Governor, and a story about those who shared the Governor's views on religion as a "crutch for the weak minded," the first indication that Ventura was not alone in his opinions.

Between October 9 and October 18, the Playboy interview began to fade from the Star Tribune's front page, but was kept alive on the editorial pages. The interview and its aftermath returned to the front page on Monday, October 18, where staff writer Dane Smith attempted to summarize the events surrounding the interview and what he termed "livid and spontaneous reactions" Again, though the apparent trigger was analytical, the frame was clearly a conflict story. By the time of Smith's analysis, the conflict had been described as one between Ventura and the Minnesota Public, Ventura and his wife, Ventura and his party, and Ventura and a series of "professional" politicians. What was not described, or at least not described in the context of the Playboy interview, was the conflict between the press and Ventura.

The first of these conflicts, that between Ventura and the Minnesota public, is a third rhetorical thread running throughout the coverage. The picture the Star Tribune painted was that Minnesotan's reactions to the Ventura interview were "livid and spontaneous." The state's citizens were supposedly united in its disgust with Ventura's candid opinions on religion, suicide and the Tailhook scandal, and joined together on their own. The possibility that the majority of people cited did not read the interview directly and were taking their cues from local news coverage of the story, i.e., that the reporting itself might be fueling the "livid and spontaneous" reaction, did not seem to occur to Smith, nor did it seem to occur to any other journalist. That the conflict may have been as much or more between the press and Ventura than between Minnesotans and Ventura, did not receive coverage until Patricia Lopez Baden's October 15 report "Panel airs 'friction' between Ventura, media." Significantly, this piece found placement in the Metro (B) section rather than on the front page.

Throughout the period the Star Tribune seemed to have great difficulty finding anyone who supported Ventura. Only two positive articles appeared in the 18 days. When Ventura appeared at Harvard, Patricia Lopez Baden, covering the evening's events for the Star Tribune, quoted three students who had been at the event. "He's entertaining," was the best the Harvard student body could be coaxed into saying. Significantly, graduate student Mark Lewis is quoted as saying, "He definitely does not carry himself as a statesman. . . I think when you reach that higher office, you should take it seriously and conduct yourself accordingly. I'm definitely glad he's not my governor." This quote hits the theme to which I return in the next section of the paper: the Governor's "unprofessionalism."

By contrast, AP writer Jean McMillan quoted only one student in her wire story on the event, C.J. Mahoney, "a Harvard senior from Russell, Kan., and vice chairman of the advisory committee."

The average political talk show guest seems like a member of an accounting firm, but when you see Governor Ventura on there, it's something different.

In McMillan's piece, student response to Ventura was characterized as positive, with Mahoney's comments as representative of that response.

After October 18, the Playboy interview disappeared from the Star Tribune, making one brief reappearance in mid-December when Playboy revealed that it might print more of the interview in the spring of 2000. As quickly as it had grown into a front page maelstrom, the scandal disappeared. The Governor's next front page appearance was in a story concerning his Japanese trade mission. The Big Plan parts two, three and four were relegated to the Metro Section. And this first day's story of the trade mission was the only one to make front page headlines (below the fold). The rest of the trade mission was relegated, like the Big Plan, to the Metro section.

For almost three weeks the Star Tribune made the political and social views expressed by the Governor in one of America's standard interview venues the major story in Minnesota. This rhetorical feat was accomplished primarily by the repetition of a few phrases from the Playboy interview, by placement of the post-interview stories, and by invocation of a ground swell of public condemnation of Ventura's opinions, a groundswell validated by the poll it had commissioned and conducted itself. By using a variety of narrative frames triggered in several manners, the paper gave the impression that this was not simply a story of the conflict between Ventura and the Press, that it was a much larger and more important conflict, between Ventura and everyone, including his own wife.

During the run of the story the ideas expressed in the Ventura interview were barely given a forum in the public press. Neither were they contextualized by placing the subjects discussed in an historical context, nor were the quotes themselves placed in context in the interview. The frames of process, historical outlook, or reality check, any of which would have put Ventura's comments in a legitimate context were absent from the coverage.

By placement and repetition the Star Tribune made it clear that the Ventura comments were more important than Minnesota's farm crisis, Japan's nuclear accident, or Mexico's earthquake. According to the coverage afforded by the Star Tribune, not only was the effect of the Governor's statements profound, it was also a profound embarrassment to the state. Given that the newspaper conducted the polling, repeated the claims of Ventura anti-religiosity, editorialized about Ventura's possibility to be an embarrassment, and slyly poked at the state's supposedly socially inept Governor during his Japan trade mission, it is difficult not to assign the paper the role of provocateur in the whole scandal.

That theme, "Our Governor is an embarrassment," approaches the heart of the controversy between Ventura and the press, as represented in the Star Tribune. Like two wrestlers, these two parties in the rhetorical controversy circled the ring, locked arms and attempted to go for the fall in a battle very similar synecdoches. In order to understand the battle of synecdoches, it will be necessary to first review the contents of the interview. Playboy contributing editor Lawrence Grobel spent a week with Ventura, gathering interview information. The published interview represents a distillation of at least three days' worth of separate, formal interviews. (More of the interview is available at the Playboy pay site, the CyberClub. A second published installment appeared in the March, 2000, Playboy. There was practically no press coverage of this interview.)

Ventura's responses can be divided into four categories: humorous remarks; personal preferences; psychological conventional wisdom (beliefs about obesity, suicide and religion believed by a large number of lower-middle class Americans); and. populist/libertarian political views. His opinions are shared by a substantial number of Americans. That is part of Ventura's self definition. While he sometimes uses the term "private citizen" to describe himself as a politician, he fits more closely to the model of "regular guy," and has "regular guy" opinions. They are not subtly nuanced opinions, nor the views commonly held by college-educated journalists. They are the views that one is likely to find in the lower-middle class suburbs ringing the Twin Cities. They are views treated patronizingly by local journalists when encountered in the working class. They don't fit the liberal image the state has carefully cultivated since the days when it elected Hubert Humphrey, Eugene McCarthy and Fritz Mondale as Senators.

Among the humorous comments in the Playboy interview was Ventura's assertion that he was king of Minnesota (an assertion he first made on the Tom Snyder show. See The Ventura Files' Quote Machine). While it was clearly meant to be funny, it did not seem funny even in the context of the published interview. Likewise, Ventura's assertion that he'd like to be re-incarnated as a "38DD bra" was meant to be humorous, although again the humor is not apparent. Both of these comments were briefly controversial in subsequent reporting and editorializing.

Much of the interview is personal preference, and personal history. The Governor relates details such as his favorite author, the rock star he'd most like to be able to imitate, why Navy Seals don't wear underwear, his favorite movie role, and the like. Of these comments, only his infatuation with Sophia Loren was picked up by the mainstream press.

His comments on obesity and suicide were distinctly populist in sentiment. Like many Americans, the Governor blamed weight problems and suicide on a lack of will power. Such sentiments are common place among non-college educated working class Americans. These comments became controversial, particularly when it was revealed that a Minnesota legislator's daughter had recently taken her own life, and that the legislator was pained by the Governor's comments. ("Lessard asks Ventura to reconsider remarks in Playboy about suicide," Star Tribune, October 7, 1999, A20)

It was his political views, the context in which his "religion is a sham" statement ought to be set, which caused the most uproar. Yet, the controversy was never given a political frame, but always a combative frame in the Star Tribune's coverage. Of the hours of interviews, just a few seconds gained notoriety, those moments in which Ventura's advocated re-examining the criminalization of drugs and prostitution, and when he revealed that he could understand how the Tailhook incident could happen.

In the area of drug laws Ventura hit a theme which he repeated several times during his New York/Harvard tour: that the war on drugs was a war which was lost and should be abandoned. Similarly, the Governor advocated a de-criminalization of prostitution laws, arguing that it is the criminalization which keeps prostitutes from unionizing, getting proper health care, and allows "working girls" to be subject to violence from both pimps and johns. It was in the context of liberalizing prostitution laws that he made his remarks concerning religion.

The published interview links Ventura's advocacy for decriminalization of drugs and prostitution with a negative evaluation of religion. Ventura compares the social mores of Nevada and Amsterdam with the whole of the United States. Neither Nevada nor Amsterdam are dangerous places, he asserts, and therefore the whole of the U.S. would be safer if the nation adopted decriminalized prostitution and drug use. Interviewer Grobel follows up with the question: "This isn't a very popular position in America, is it?" The Governor's answers:

No, and it's because of religion.

Had he left his answer there, there likely would still have been controversy, but it would have been less than that which followed his elaboration.

Organized religion is a sham and a crutch for weak-minded people who need strength in numbers. It tells people to go out and stick their noses in other people's business. I want to live by the golden rule: Treat others as you'd want them to treat you. The religious right wants to tell people how to live. (63)

That single response, just 58 words, caused much of the controversy of the next three weeks. In fact, the sixteen words of the second sentence were possibly the most volatile of the interview. They subsequently became the focus of editorials and columns, a letter from the retired Roman Catholic Archbishop, denunciations on the floor of the U.S. Senate, and countless sermons in Twin Cities churches. Without the words, "a sham and a crutch for weak-minded people who need strength in numbers," the whole quote becomes a relatively uncontroversial libertarian assertion that religion should guide private morality but be neutral in public issues.

In the next three weeks the Star Tribune published 28 articles either about or alluding to the Playboy interview. Ten of those either quoted or alluded to the 16 words religious Twin Citians found most objectionable. Thirty seven percent of the coverage related to just 16 words in the published interview.

The theme of Governor Ventura as "anti-religious" was a major focus for both local reporters and syndicated columnists. For example, L.A. Times Syndicated Columnist Matthew Miller's October 13 piece commented on the Governor, "Yes, Jesse shot his mouth off stupidly on Tailhook and religion " (A15), alluding to the offending 16 words. Similarly, a generally supportive October 11 guest editorial by Macalester College German professor Linda Schulte-Sasse began its "deconstruction" of the Ventura interview with a "translation" of Ventura's comments on religion into the language of the academy. As late at November 7, in a front page piece on the trade mission to Japan, Star Tribune Staff writer Robert Whereatt expressed surprise that there would be "no comments about organized religion being for the weak-minded or about being reincarnated as a bra big enough to fit a sumo wrestler" during the Minnesota trade mission to Japan (A1).

Comparing the response to Ventura's religious views to his other politically controversial statements, I find that press coverage is much less vitriolic. Ventura's opinions on the Tailhook scandal elicited one article in the October 1 edition (A19), and one opinion piece, on October 16 (A22, a positive and generally supportive opinion). Likewise, his position on the legalization of drugs and prostitution brought a few outraged politicians and one article (Oct. 15, B8). His views on the Kennedy assassination brought little commentary beyond the first day's reporting on the 'scandal.' Neither was much made of his opinion of the flat tax. A minor note was sounded, and continued to be sounded on the issue of his running for the presidency. In the interview Ventura outlined a possible strategy for a run for the presidency, one which paralleled his successful Minnesota campaign. Questions about Ventura's plans to run for the Presidency continued to be voiced, and Ventura continued to deny any such plans throughout the three week period and beyond. A hypothetical was turned into a likely scheme by the press, and the Governor's denials in both the interview and afterwards were to no avail. But even this vital question received far less ink than Ventura's views on religion.

Star Tribune coverage used Ventura's words on religion almost as a mantra, certainly as a hook, and perhaps as a way of defining the Governor. They showed his lack of tact, sensitivity to the feelings of "ordinary" Minnesotans, and most crucially, his lack of "professionalism." Professionalism is the key synecdoche used by local journalists to define Ventura's identity.

The Governor used a similar rhetorical figure to define his political identity. The two synecdoches agree on the negation of the term "politician." Both the newspaper and the Governor would define Ventura as "not a politician." But the Star Tribune's synecdoche was "not a professional politician." For the Governor the trope is "not a career politician" (emphasis added). While seeming similar, the two synecdoches are in fact combative, in competition to define the meaning of the Governor's extra-gubernatorial activities.

For the Star Tribune, and other local newspaper reporters the "not professional" definition is assumed or implied in much of the Ventura coverage. The implication was articulated during an October 14 meeting between local press and Ventura press spokesman John Wodele. The October 15 story cited AP reporter Rochelle Olson's complaints about the Governor's relation to the local press. Noting the Governor's "breathtakingly inconsistent" habit of ignoring the local press while granting the national press frequent interviews, Olson said, "We're all kind of begging for some kind of professionalism here." (B7)

The lack of professionalism is implied in much of the criticism of Ventura throughout the scandal period. The Governor was described as having "popped off" and as having "shot his mouth off stupidly." In his analysis of the Governor's actions Star Tribune staff writer Dane Smith called the Governor an "irrepressible rascal," of whom Minnesotans have come to think of as sort of a Norwegian bachelor farmer uncle who will "say things that no politician and few polite people would dare to say" (October 3, 1999 A1). Smith goes on in this article to contrast Ventura with a consummate professional in politics: George W. Bush:

Many politicians these days, most notably Republican presidential candidate Texas Gov. George W. Bush, are touting "faith-based communities" as important partners with the government in addressing social problems. And this latest brouhaha erupted as Ventura's aides are planning initiatives featuring new cooperation with religious and private nonprofit institutions.

This same trope, Ventura is "not a professional" continued on the next page, in the context of a story on the American Reform Party meeting in Washington, D.C., on Saturday, October 2. The headline proclaimed that former Governor Lowell Weicker "frets" over the credibility of the Reform party, a theme to be repeated in both local and national coverage during the next several days. The text devoted a major portion of the first column to recounting the Playboy interview, with particular emphasis upon the Tailhook and religion comments. Reporter Tom Hamburger placed Weicker's worries about Reform Party credibility in the penultimate paragraph, one of the most strategic spots in the story. Though the story could disclaim making an illegitimate connection between Weicker's comments (which may have had as much to do with Donald Trump and Warren Beatty's potential candidacy in a primary race with Pat Buchanan as with the Ventura interview), Hamburger nevertheless made a clear connection between Ventura and Weicker's fears of running:

Without addressing any of last week's developments directly, Weicker said that "national third party politics is on the verge of becoming a joke. And that's exactly what the two major parties hope for. The current zaniness reflects on us all." (A19, emphasis added)

Ventura's Playboy interview, his press conference, and further clarification are not politics of the normal sort. These episodes, like the inaugural ball to which the Governor came dressed in tee-shirt, sun-glasses and a feathered boa, are, in the opinion of the press, clearly unprofessional. The images of unprofessionalism continue in the reportage throughout this first week post interview. Mixing analysis and reporting on the Star Tribune poll of the October 2-3 weekend, Dane Smith wrote, "His [Ventura's] endless revelations about youthful indiscretions, his raw language, and his personal tastes appear to have become a liability" (A1). In the October 6 follow-up to the first installment of the Big Plan, staff writer Patricia Baden Lopez characterized the interview as "tell all" and pictured the Governor as somewhat petulant, "a clearly annoyed Ventura said" (A13).

That same article noted that the Star Tribune is not alone in its questioning of Ventura's professionalism. The report on The Big Plan and reactions to it closed with annotations on Ventura's schedule for the coming weeks. After listing his scheduled appearances at Harvard, on MSNBC's Hardball, on Letterman, and with Barbara Walters, Lopez quoted Republican State House Speaker Steve Sviggum: "On Tuesday he [Sviggum] questioned whether Ventura could be taken seriously on important policy issues when he's busy doing interviews with Playboy, Letterman and Walters" (A13). The Star Tribune chose to play up this quote by making the page strap accompanying the front page story, "Sviggum voices concern issues may be lost amid media hype."

The paper also carried a Washington story on Senate condemnations of Ventura, leading the story with a repetition of the "a sham and a crutch" phrase. Washington correspondent Greg Gordon reported on speeches on the floor of the Senate by Robert Byrd of West Virginia and Christopher Dodd of Connecticut (both Democrats) condemning not merely the sentiment, but the person who uttered them. Senator Byrd denounced the comments for meanness and rudeness "in a speech that lasted more than ten minutes," while Dodd quoted an anti-Ventura editorial from the Washington Post which proclaimed: "Your act is wearing thin." Two polished, highly professional Washington politicians were thus called in to support the theme of the trope of "Ventura is not a professional." That same theme was echoed in comments elicited from Minnesota representative Bruce Vento. While Vento was not out to criticize Ventura directly, he was quoted as saying that "the governor sometimes gets his 'mouth engaged without the brain there'" (A13). Again, the governor's behavior was, by implication, unprofessional.

What exactly is meant by the synecdoche "professionalism"? Derived from the metonomy "the learned professions," it implies tactfulness and decorousness in one's speech and demeanor. It also seems to imply a measure of humility, or at least the appearance of humility and the willingness to offer a quick apology for any and all offenses against propriety. Ventura never appeared humble, never apologized, never retracted anything he had said. When challenged by Barbara Walters on the "weak minded" proclamation, Ventura admitted his wife into the ranks. When his characterization of suicides as "weak willed" was called into question by the suicide of a state legislator's child Ventura responded with expressions of sympathy.

Professional also seems to mean tactful and decorous in one's dress, demeanor and behavior. There is a contrary expectation that the Governor will act indecorously and that that would be an embarrassment for the state. This expectation has been fed by public pronouncements of entertainment figures who deeply dislike Ventura, notably Minnesota entertainer and writer Garrison Keillor whose whose printed denunciations, Minnesota's Excellent Ventura, arrived shortly after the election.

During his November trade mission to Japan, for example, both Minnesota Public Radio reporter Martin Kaste and Star Tribune correspondent Robert Whereatt expressed the expectation. Whereatt's November 7 dispatch (the only report from the trade mission which appeared on page 1 of the A section) led with:

Minnesota media representatives have been velcroed to Governor Jesse Ventura during this trade mission to Japan, waiting for a Playboy magazine-type comment that could outrage the Japanese people. . . the often irascible governor has been the model of decorum in this society, where decorum is threaded throughout the social fabric.

Similar sentiments had been voiced much earlier by WCCO radio personality Dark Star in November of 1998. Both Star and local reporters seemed to put aside the well known fact that Ventura was familiar with Japanese society, having appeared there as a wrestler.

Finally, professional seems to imply something about the relationship between the local press and the Governor. There is an expectation that the local press should be treated with respect, that they should have their calls returned, and that they should be recognized as the gatekeepers to the public. The demand was articulated by local television reporter Pat Kessler at the October 14th meeting between representatives of the local press and Ventura press secretary John Wodele.

There is a local media blackout. This is a very serious issue. Do they [politicians] have a responsibility to speak to the voters through the media? There is a link that is being damaged (Star Tribune, October 15, 1999, B7).

Kessler's complaint was not new. A Minnesota Public Radio report of September 23 voiced the same concerns. Reporter Laura McCallum, interviewing PR consultant Cindy Brucato (once Communications Director for former Republican Governor Arne Carlson) surfaced the fear that Ventura would feel no need of the local press.

Public relations consultant Cindy Brucato, former communications director for Governor Arne Carlson, says Ventura gets headlines and airtime whether or not he agrees to lengthy interviews.

Brucato: I don't think that the governor needs the Capitol press corps, I don't think the governor respects the Capitol press corps, that's probably unfortunate.

Brucato says Ventura's opinion probably stems in part from the national media's tendency to focus on politicians' personal lives. She says the public thinks the media has gone too far in its scrutiny of matters such as President Clinton's sex life and George W. Bush's possible drug use. And by taking on reporters, Ventura has an easy target that the public isn't likely to defend.

Brucato: They're not going to be holding rallies on the steps of the Capitol, saying let our reporters in!

(http://news/mpr.org/features/199909/23_mccaullml_venturavspress/).

The Governor had other means for maintaining contact with the public, means which local reporters either never consulted, or discounted. His Internet presence and his weekly "Lunch With the Governor" radio program seem to be the gate through which Ventura wants the public to access his administration.

The Friday morning radio program, broadcast on local station WCCO is a continuation of Ventura's career as a radio talk-show host. Unlike many politicians, Ventura regularly opens the phone lines and takes calls from the public. He is, in that forum, feisty, more than willing to respond argumentatively, opinionated and unlike the well trained "professional" politician who seeks to nuance, explain and respond with the communication skills taught in basic Interpersonal Communications courses. He does not sound like Bill Clinton at a Town Meeting "feeling your pain." Rather, Ventura sounds very much like G. Gordon Liddy or Judge Judy. Adversarial is an apt one-word description of his radio talk-show.

In addition, reporters seem ignorant of the way in which Ventura is present on the Web. A recent search on the Infoseek powered Go search engine turned up 12 reviewed Ventura sites, and over 4,000 mentions of his name. The 12 major sites include the 2 sponsored by the Ventura political organization, http://www.jesseventura.com/ and http://www.jesseventura.org/. Not included as a reviewed site, but easily located, is the official state web site for Governor Ventura (http://www.mainserver.mn.us/governor/). Each of the sites offers opportunities to contact Ventura or his staff.

The remainder of the reviewed sites include fan sites, anti-Ventura sites and sites linked to Ventura's role as a leader of the Reform Party. Some are focused on Ventura's career as a professional wrestler. One, "The Body Rules" carries links to downloadable sound files of the two songs Ventura recorded in the 1980s. Another is a complete filmography.

Several of the sites, most notably The Ventura Files and Scott's Fan Pages , also carry guest books and offer opportunities for Ventura fans to exchange messages. In a late January visit to the guest pages at Scott's Fan Pages I found nonsensical rantings. At the Ventura Files there was a mixed bag of positive comment and criticism, similar to that found at the WCCO "Lunch with the Governor" site. At the WCCO site citizens are asked for their questions for the Governor, which he is to answer on the following Friday. The messages were a mixture of both positives and negatives.

What is most astounding is the presence at major fan sites of links to anti-fan sites. The Ventura Files includes a feature called "The Quote Machine." These quotes are not all from Ventura, and are by no means all positive about Ventura. The Ventura Files also contains a page with a number of anti-Ventura political cartoons, and links to one of the most vitriolic anti-Ventura sites, King Jesse's Jesters. From Jesse's Jesters there is a link to Minnesota Moon where one can order anti-Jesse holiday greeting cards (in March 2000 featuring drunken Irish Jesse for St. Patrick's Day.) There seems to be an almost defiant air about having the negative links at sites devoted to a political figure who has been criticized as being "thin skinned."

The press totally ignored Ventura's Internet presence during the Playboy scandal. While it is true that those who leave an imprint in a site's guestbook are self-selecting, and therefore not a scientific sample, they do provide a balance to the endless negative person-on-the-street interviews found in the Star Tribune. The Internet connection would also have been a helpful way of locating Ventura and his supporters on some sort of cultural map, could have given a story framed as a cultural/historical outlook. But the Internet was never part of the reporter's tools during the scandal period.

There are at two likely explanations for this absence. The first was offered by journalist Todd Gitlin in a recent issue of Media Studies Journal. In an exchange of letters between himself and fellow journalist Dave Kansas, Gitlin wrote: "In the current environment, many of the best journalists and editors, fearful of 24-hour news, turn their nose up at the Internet, mocking its integrity and clinging close to the dead-tree world of newspapers and magazines" (75). Following Matt Drudge's Lewinsky scoop there does seem to be more scorn of the Internet as a source, though most major dailies and weeklies have no scorn of the Internet as an outlet.

Second, the sites on which Ventura's name most prominently and positively appears are not the kinds of sites the local press would care to be caught dead visiting. They are World Wide Wrestling fan sites and heavy metal sites. They're not pornographic, but they are not exactly high brow culture either. The fan sites are not sites for and by young professionals, though their webmasters likely have jobs and even careers. You won't find ads on winning a shiny new Jaguar (as might be found at Salon). You will find out how to win tickets to the next Wrestling Slam.

This is consonant with Ventura's synecdochal self definition: "I'm not a career politician." The Governor gave a quick, clear definition of that trope at his September 30 press conference. "I will always be honest and that's my problem. See, the career politician will never be honest" (Star Tribune, October 1, 1999, A1, emphasis added). Not a career politician implies that Ventura is only temporarily the governor, only temporarily holding elective office. He also uses the trope to imply that being a career politician is bad. Just as clearly, and as George Will observed later in the controversy, Ventura's "not a career politician" self-definition appeals to the American populist rhetorical tradition. (Star Tribune, October 14, 1999. A23.)

The case could be made that Ventura is a sort of Jeffersonian democrat. Like Jefferson, Ventura sees government service as a temporary duty of the citizen legislator. For example, Ventura could cite Jefferson's letter to Alexander Campbell, advising the later that elected officials should be chosen from "not office-hunters, but farmers . . . Such men are the true representative of the great American interest and are alone to be relied on for expressing the proper American sentiments" (see: Elective Government). This Jeffersonian sentiment fits well with Ventura's self-identification as not a career politician.

A review of Ventura's most recent political speeches reveals, however, no awareness of Jeffersonian principles. It may be that occasion for alluding, quoting or otherwise invoking the memory of a founding father has not arisen. What seems more likely is that quoting Jefferson to support his position has never occurred to the governor, and that even if it occurred to his staff he would veto its use.

For Ventura, not a career politician implies that one is simply what one is. His accent, demeanor, attitude and opinions are more likely those of the average laborer in South Saint Paul than those of the college educated journalists who regularly cover the affairs of the capital. It is unlikely that laborer at the South Saint Paul stockyard or the nearby Rosemont refinery would quote Jefferson, and neither is it likely that Minnesota's current governor will invoke the founding fathers by quoting them. Such behavior is common among the "professionals" who wish to appear as "citizen statesmen." Appearing to be an intellectual is one of the many things forbidden by the synecdoche "not a career politician." What is permitted is remaining what one is. In this case it is native Minnesotan, ex-Navy Seal, ex-professional wrestler, ex-mayor of Brooklyn Park, and current radio talk-show host. Those attributes are all part of Ventura's modus operandi, and he does not intend to drop any part of his identity to become a "professional" politician.

Therefore, the conflict between the Ventura administration and the local press, as exemplified in the Playboy scandal and its coverage in the Star Tribune will likely remain. The two synecdoches are irreconcilable. The press has created the rhetorical world in which "not a professional politician" means that one is not worthy of serious consideration. There are no signs that this synecdoche will change. The Governor has created a rhetorical world where "not a career politician" means an administration founded on blue jeans, tough talk, and no compromise. There are no signs that this will change either.

That means that Minnesota is likely to experience future conflicts over issues of decorum, niceness, press access to the Governor, and the desire to have plain speech tempered by tactfulness. It may well be entertaining, but it will not serve the public interest as well as thoughtful analysis of the Ventura administration's policies and programs. I wonder how the conflict might have played out if just one reporter had asked: "'Sham and a crutch for the weak minded.' Just what do you mean by that Governor?," and if the Governor had responded with a thought-provoking explication of his notion that some people use religion to avoid thinking. But conflicts like the one involving Governor Ventura and the local press generally invite a flight from thought.

January 2000 coverage has stressed Ventura's ideas about government, particularly his advocacy for a unicameral legislature, and has thus been far less inflammatory. The Governor's personal popularity returned in January nearly to its summer heights. The press has dropped the Playboy interview as a topic of coverage. The Governor has attributed his return in the polls to "keeping my mouth shut." But I do not expect that this quiet will remain. The synecdochal battle has not even been acknowledged, much less resolved. Neither the press nor the Governor has been down for a three count, and I expect that they will be back in the ring sometime soon. Given the Governor's ability to rebound in public opinion, and the popularity of the WWF, it's likely he'll still be wearing the championship belt come the next "embarrassment." Given Ventura's February 2000 resignation from the Reform Party, Donald Trump's self-removal from the Presidential race, and the likelihood that the Independence Party will not field Presidential Candidate Ventura, it's hard to see what the occasion for the next embarassment might be.

In Seducing America, a study of the effects of television on the political process, Rod Hart argues that television, with its bias toward narrative, has shifted voter focus so that politics has become a matter of personality over policy. Jesse Ventura's election as governor of Minnesota validates Hart's thesis, for Ventura is the ultimate personality-driven politician. At the same time, Hart argues that television has created a postmodern cynicism among American voters, and in the press. The battle between Ventura and the Star Tribune reporters reflects that cynicism; the continuing battle which is fed by Ventura's "non-professionalism." The "professional" politician responds to media-driven cynicism by clarification, apology, spin and press manipulation. While Ventura is not above spin, manipulation of national media, and the occasional apology, his years of entertainment experience - largely in the world of combat radio and professional wrestling - lead him to be more combative than conciliatory. He seems to operate on the premise that there are no bad reviews, as long as the press spells his name correctly.

Clearly the plurality of the Minnesota electorate preferred personality to policy. An unusual survey in October 1998 showed that voters had warmed up to Ventura as a personality even while they had negative feelings about his policy. The ratings for Ventura as an atypical politician were his highest and far exceeded those of his DFL and Republican opponents. Responses to Ventura's "character" and "person," while not above a 50, did show him to be more likable than either of his opponents. In fact, Coleman and Humphrey (the Republican and DFL candidates respectively) scored higher than Ventura only on party affiliation and specific policy issues (Frank & Wagner 22). A plurality of Minnesota voters chose a personality because he was a personality.

Ventura's significance could, thus, be localized to Minnesota, as Frank and Wagner's case study argues. Issues such as the Minnesota tradition of voter independence, the press' "free ride" for Ventura, and the lack of a specific gavalanzing issue in the 1998 election could be cited to show that Ventura's election and style of governance are not a trend. Beyond the Minnesota borders one could argue that politics continues as usual, and the rhetorical misunderstanding which fueled the Playboy scandal is inoperative. Outsiders are the exception, and they will not significantly encroach upon the duocrachy of established, professional politicians. Moreover, the splintering of the Reform Party in 2000 may eliminate it as a national force. The likelihood of a Green Party or Libertarian Party victory is so small as to make outsider issues moot. However, personality politics remains a major factor in the electoral process, and neither the press nor the body politic is becoming less cynical. (Witness the press reactions to Bush's refusal to divulge his drug use history, and the Gore rental property scandal.) While third party candidates may not emerge as major contenders for statewide or national offices, it is likely that outsiders and celebrities will seek and sometimes win office as members of one of the two established parties. I would predict then, that battles between local press and "non-professional" candidates are likely to be repeated across the country, and that many will structurally resemble the Ventura/Star Tribune Smackdown; that is, they will focus on an aspect of the "professional" versus "career" politician rhetoric.

The New Jersey campaign of millionaire Jon Corzine shows remarkable similarities to Ventura's in the relations between the candidate and the press. According to Jake Tapper, Salon.com columnist, Corzine has been receiving rather difficult treatment at the hands of the local press. Like Ventura, he comes to his candidacy from outside the political sphere, is assumed to be unprepared for the job, and has been taken less than seriously as a candidate. Likewise, Pat Buchanan regularly, and with some justification, sees himself mistreated by the mainstream press. Like Ventura and Corzine, Buchanan represents the "untrained" or unwilling-to-behave-as-a-professional political outsider.

As such, these candidates are unpredictable, given to policy statements which cannot be parsed as Republican, Democrat or Reformed (or even Libertarian, Green, or Socialist). They represent a kind of eclectic approach to social and financial questions. Candidates taking such approaches make the press uneasy, for it is a sign of "un-professionalism," often portrayed as not taking a long enough view or having thought hard enough on the issues. The standard media response to any eclectic, centrist, or non-ideological approach to political questions is the calling in of "experts" who instantly proclaim why such a policy will not work, cannot work, is not in the best interests of the American people.

This journalistic approach contributes to the pervading sense of cynicism in both the press and the public. Hart explains the cynicism as the combination of a feeling of intimacy inherent in televised personality politics combined with a dose of postmodern irony. Because much of televised coverage of the election process focuses on the "behind the scenes" aspects of political maneuvering, rather than on policy questions, everything is not only open to question, but also seems to be false, an attempt to spin, to control and manipulate.

Candidates who are "straight forward," and "say what they mean," (i.e., have a certain naiveté about the relationships between the press and the politician) are likely to enter into battles such as Ventura's. They will feel that the press has a grudge against them, that their coverage is not fair, and that their personal life is being subjected to overmuch scrutiny. What these candidates are missing is the insight that the press seems to have a grudge against all politicians. Moreover, they fail to recognize that the cult of personality which made them a viable TV candidate also encourages prying into their personal life and motivations. Further, the naive candidate likely operates under the modernist assumption of "objective" reportage. By and large this rhetorical stance has been abandoned by journalism. Journalists now seem to have taken it as an axiom that objectivity is impossible. As Michael Geis argued in The Language of Politics, the unbiased, objective reporter would have to have "no preconceived ideas about that event, which is to say that one must be quite ignorant of that event" (15). Such ignorance likely leads not to unbiased reporting, but to useless reporting. Therefore, objectivity is impossible, and a better, more postmodern standard is fairness. That standard seems to mean equal time for all extremes.

What happened, and continues to happen, in the relationship between Jesse Ventura and the local press, should be seen as the outcome of television's constant barrage of personality politics. Familiarity does breed contempt, both in the people and in the press. The Smackdown in Saint Paul, though peculiar in circumstance, resembles the type of rhetorically based misunderstanding which I would expect to follow in the wake of personality politics. If neither the press nor the candidate focus on issues and policies, the default common rhetoric will always be personality, love it or hate it. Absent a common rhetoric the relationship between the press and the government will continue to be a definitional battle, a high level game of accusation centered on the old saw: "I know you think you understand what I said, but what you heard is not what I meant."

Finally, my study and conclusions are based on what may well turn out to be a unique circumstance. Even while I have argued for a broader significance for the rhetorical battle, it is entirely possible that Jesse Ventura's relationship to the local press is, if not unique, at least unusual enough to simply be a curiosity. Few of the nations elected officials are likely to have his background in the rough and tumble of Navy Seal training combined with professional wrestling and radio combat. What seems much more likely, however, is that Ventura represents what may become even more common: the personality politician. If Hart is correct in his assessment of the effects of television on politics, the celebrity politician is the wave of the future. Thus, these "non-professionals" will also encounter rhetorical misunderstandings with the press. That likelihood seems to me to be strong, but only time will validate the hypothesis.

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Works Cited and Endnotes

Key Links

The official site
The Minnesota Governor's site
The Ventura Campaign's Story of Net Use in Politics

News sites with significant Ventura Coverage during the post interview period:
Playboy Magazine pay site
The Minneapolis Star Tribune
The St. Paul Pioneer Press

Newsweek's article on election results: Jesse Ventura's "Body" Politics
The Newsweek Article in the Middle of the Controversy: Now He's the Man to See
Newsweek's article on the aftermath of the dip in the polls: The Taming of Jesse
Rochelle Olson's AP Dispatch of September 30, 1999: Ventura Reveals More in Playboy
Home for Hardball with Chris Matthews
"Who's Playing Hardball" - First Week of December
Time Magazine Story: Garrison Keilor's Minnesota's Excellent Ventura
Archive of Ventura related stories on Minnesota Public Radio
Poll figures similar to, but not to be confused with, Star Tribune Minnesota Poll
The Friday Lunch with the Governor Radio program Home

"Anti-fan" sites:
King Jesse's Jesters
Minnesota Moon Greeting Cards

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