Political commercials pointless, annoying, scary
Kim Wilson
Managing Editor
ATLANTA
November 6, 1998
I hate discussing politics. Besides religion and computer operating system preference, there is no other topic of conversation that offers so many opportunities to lose old friends and make new enemies without any compensatory benefits whatever. It's not that I have no political opinions; I do. But I also have common sense, and realize that any political argument I engage in will have one of three end results:
1. I will be dissatisfied, because I was unable to convince my opponent that my opinions are correct.
2. I will be dissatisfied, because my opponent got carried away and caused me grievous bodily harm.
3. I will be satisfied, because I started the whole thing on purpose to yank someone's chain.
You notice that the only time I am happy with the outcome of a political argument is when I started it on purpose to engage in what Dogbert calls "tweaking brittle people." Sadly, though, most people who engage in political argument do so because they are sincerely devoted to their opinions, and convinced that, if they could only make you see, you would come to their side and everything in the garden would be lovely.
What these poor souls do not realize is that, much like the aforementioned examples of religion and OS, a person's political affiliation is only changeable under certain circumstances- for example, Divine revelation or near-death experiences. So, in the vast majority of cases, political argument does nothing except provide entertainment for the political Dogberts of the world.
That said, I would like to propose some new legislation. I can do this because I am confident that this legislation will have no opposition whatever, thus freeing me from tedious arguments that would absorb the time I have earmarked for playing Monkey Island III. My legislation would ban all political candidates from advertising. Period. No radio ads, no print campaigns, no TV spots, no door-to-door canvassers. Advertising would be grounds for instant disqualification from the election. Instead, each registered voter would receive a flyer containing the candidate's picture and their platform.
This legislation would be incredibly beneficial to the electoral process. Think of how much money the ad ban would free up-millions of dollars now spent on ad campaigns could be used in a productive manner. Politicians wouldn't have to make as many humiliating public appearances begging for money. (Anyone for $200-a-plate corn dogs?). Poor candidates with good ideas would suddenly be able to run for office without facing a substantial handicap from the first.
Of course, these benefits are merely bonuses; the real advantage would be that the voting public would not have to be harassed by political advertising. My TV time is precious to me, and I resent having it intruded upon by the rantings of adolescent crybabies who somehow expect to convince me to vote for them. I only watch two shows a week: ER, which, sad to say, is the social highlight of my week, and The Pretender. (Oh, okay, I admit it, I do usually watch Profiler too, but only because it's set in Atlanta. I take a perverse pleasure in lines like, "Uh-oh. Looks like another serial homicide in Peachtree City." If that show is correct, Atlanta must have the highest number of serial killers per capita of any city in the known universe.) Last week, during these shows, I viewed approximately 27,843,822 political ads. About 25,824,247 of these ads were the EXACT SAME AD, shown over and over again, sometimes twice in one commercial break. This does not make me want to vote. It makes me want to commit serial homicide. (maybe that's why there are so many in Atlanta!).
Now, I can already hear the dull roar of indignant idealists crying, "But if the candidates aren't allowed to advertise, how will voters be able to make an informed decision?" The simple answer is, they won't. In the real world, the voters are divided something like this:
56 percent will vote along party lines. Party affiliation is like OS choice; almost immutable. No advertising will change this.
25 percent will vote for the candidate that "looks like a nice person."
13 percent will vote for the candidate for the coolest name or best hair.
4 percent will write in votes for cartoon characters, professional wrestlers, and Xena, Warrior Princess.
1.5 percent will vote for the underdog candidate, because they feel sorry for losers.
0.4999999999 percent will vote using "eenie meenie miney moe"
0.0000000001 percent will thoughtfully research each candidate's platform and make an informed choice.
You may be saying, "That's not right! I know that WAY more people than that vote using 'eenie meenie miney moe'!" However, these statistics were carefully prepared by the same advanced statistical method used by political pollsters for decades: making thoughtful observations, and then inventing all the numbers.
So, you see, voters almost never make informed decisions anyway. And even if they wanted to, commercials wouldn't help. Political ads fall into two genres: a) "My opponent is a cheater/liar/scumbag/neo-Nazi/conservative/liberal/serial killer" and b) "I am such a nice person. See, I have a puppy dog! I love my puppy dog. And my mom. And I eat apple pie every day. If you don't vote for me, you are saying you hate apple pie. And moms. And puppy dogs." In most campaigns, the ads are briefly of type B, but quickly degenerate into type A. Occasionally, there are transitional forms, like "I love kittens. My opponent HATES kittens. He voted "yes" for Bill 380147.2984-J to make kittens ILLEGAL!!" However, these types of advertisments are fleeting.
Political ads offer no useful information at all. They try to hide this by quoting "facts" like "In 1987, Joe Smith voted NO on House Bill 2031! This means that he wants to ABOLISH EDUCATION!!!" The people who make these ads know that they can say things like that whenever they want to, because a) no one is going to look it up, and b) Joe Smith can't deny it, because he doesn't remember if it is true or not. As anyone who has ever watched C-SPAN (well, flipped past C-SPAN while channel surfing) knows, being in Congress is one of the most boring occupations in the free world, second only to proofreading calculus books. Being in Congress is like sitting in lecture all day, every day. We shouldn't be surprised that members of Congress fall asleep; we should be surprised they show up at all. And most of the bills they vote on are so confusing not even the people who wrote them can figure them out. The result is, many politicians have a nagging suspicion every time they hear one of these accusations that they may actually have done whatever it is, totally by accident. So they retaliate the only way they can: by making up accusations of their own.
As you can see, both the candidates and the voters would be well served by abolishing all political ads. No rational person can overlook the overwhelming evidence I have presented here.
And if you don't agree with me, I'd like to talk to you about your operating system.
"As anyone who has ever watched C-SPAN knows, being in Congress is one of the most boring occupations in the free world, second only to proofreading calculus books."
Kim Wilson
Managing Editor
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