In a race in which the smears are multiplying, smudges on a sticker may seem unimportant. But the blotch on my car seems like an attempt to undermine my newfound faith, leaving a nasty streak on my beliefs.
A smear works by circulating a doubt designed to chip away at a voter's confidence. Sure, purple scribbles aren't the same as being "Swift-boated" in 2004, and they bear little resemblance to the mysterious phone calls in 2000 accusing John McCain of fathering an illegitimate child. And no, it isn't on par with the vitriolic e-mails I receive linking Obama to William Ayers and the 9/11 terrorists. But essentially, it has the same effect: My budding belief emerges a little bruised, tinged by cynicism. Maybe politics is really about defacing each other's dreams.
