Well, maybe journalists would be hesitant to call them serial killer eyes- that's rank speculation, something they know nothing about- but they did identify the desperate grab for attention for what it was, since most people have no idea who Tom Tancredo is. Not exactly a novel revelation, since most campaign ads are grabs for attention. But this one really does stick out, see for yourself:
Why is this disturbing?
Americans already confuse Iraq with Iran with Afghanistan with North Korea with Pakistan; hell, they can't even locate their own country on a map (unless, of course, they think the whole world is America). In talking about our "open borders," Tancredo is implying that Mexicans are Islamic terrorists.
You know what, I'm just going to go ahead and say it: Mexico was responsible for 9/11.
Shit, did I say Mexico? I meant Canada.
Shit, did I say Canada? I meant France.
Shit, did I say France? I meant...France.**
What else is disturbing about Tancredo's irresponsible ad? Well, it is "illegal to censor a candidate's political ad," and must be aired "even if a station...[knows it to be] unfair, factually inaccurate, or offensive" (Interplay of Influence 288-290). This is not to say that Tancredo is the only political candidate ever to air an offensive or inaccurate ad- plenty have, can you say Swift Boat? But what the hell?! This requires Americans to investigate on their own the allegations of campaign ads, but, given that most Americans don't know where their country is on a map, this is highly doubtful.
If candidates are sold like products, as Interplay of Influence claims, then their advertisements should be held to the same standards as consumer products. Wild allegations must be proven. In fact, there should be some product labeling. Instead of calories and trans fats, maybe we should measure bullshit and hypocrisy, creepiness. Then maybe we'd know what we were getting ourselves into.
For example:
George W. Bush
Age: 61
Ingredients: horse shit, crude oil, born-again Christian hypocrisy (hypoChristian?), puppy dog tails, that pretzel he choked on in 2002, nepotism, marbles.
It would make everything a whole lot easier.
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*I once worked with this guy whom we called Serial Killer, SK for short. He had this incredibly creepy lurking problem. Like, you'd look up and he's staring at you silently. You look away for a split second and then he's gone.
**I don't mean it, Julie!
