Commercial campaigning
Marlayna Soenneker
Here we go again
Well, it's that time of year again. Frightening-looking people everywhere go from house to house, knocking on people's doors and demanding that those within give them something. No, I'm not talking about Halloween and cute kids in costumes asking for candy. I'm talking about election season and scary politicians in suits asking for votes.
This was the first election I ever voted in. (I say "was" because I already voted over fall break, like a good girl.) I have to say, I was very unimpressed. I voted in my home state, Oregon, which means that I didn't know about or have an actual opinion on anything on my ballot other than the presidential election, which I really only marginally had an opinion on. Everything else I just asked my dad about. It wasn't that independent and democratic a moment for me.
I also got my wisdom teeth out over break. I could say what you expect me to say, which is that voting was more painful than getting my teeth out, but that would be lying. Nothing I've ever done has been as painful as getting my teeth out. I spent three days lying on the couch after that, and I only got up on day four because I had to come back here.
Those three days on the couch were, according to the grand plan I worked out before going home, supposed to be spent doing lots of homework. When I woke up after my surgery, however, I realized that I had been a very naïve college student, and that I wasn't really going to get anything done within the next three days or possibly ever again.
So I spent that time well. I watched TV for about eight hours a day. We got cable recently, which really just meant that it took longer for me to resign myself to the fact that the only things on were talk shows and soap operas. And political commercials. Hundreds and hundreds of political commercials from which I learned the following.
There are four types of political commercials: those for a person, those against a person, those for a ballot measure and those against a ballot measure. Political commercials for a person are apparently required to use children. There are always several shots of the person decisively signing something with a large pen as positive words about them flash across the screen. Sometimes the person is signing something while surrounded by kids.
Then there will be a shot or two of some hard-working, middle class people who, by the look of serious concentration and integrity on their faces, clearly show their support for the candidate. They may be surrounded by children. Finally, there is a ten second soundbyte from the candidate, who is wearing down-to-earth, comfortable clothes and looking very concerned about all the people they have paid to be in their commercial. They say something like, "I like you, vote for me," and the commercial ends.
Second, there are anti-people commercials. These are always a risky political move, because you don't want the voter to think you are a big meanie for saying nasty things about your opponent. Usually this kind of commercial ends up sounding a lot like a doctor on TV announcing a death to a family. The person in the commercial looks very solemn and a little sad, and one almost expects to hear them say something like, "I'm very sorry and I wish I didn't have to be the one to tell you, Mr. Voter, but my opponent is a scumbag."
This year, in my state, there weren't many commercials for ballot measures. I guess their makers decided they were all either good enough to stand on their own or they decided the measure wasn't really the sort of thing they wanted to talk about in public, like our Measure 9 which was yet another attempt by some wackos to require everyone to hate gay people. I never saw any commercials for that. I guess it took all the sneaky jerks' courage to write the thing — they didn't want to have to publicly acknowledge it, too.
Enough bitterness. Commercials against measures generally involve a lot of kids, too. But these are unhappy kids. They involve old people, too, and they are also unhappy. Basically these commercials try to imply that the measure will legalize raping and murdering children in public schools and beating old people in nursing homes.
Having read my guide to political commercials, you should now be able to tell what type of commercial you are being subjected to, even if you mute the television. This will, of course, make you a better informed voter when you fill out your ballot in the next couple weeks. Yes, this guide is all you really need, besides your parents' e-mails telling you exactly how to vote, of course.
Marlayna Soenneker is a sophomore psychology major. Her column appears every other Wednesday.
The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.
All Viewpoint Stories for Wednesday, November 1, 2000
