The chatter around the water cooler at the office this morning is about the Clint Eastwood commercial from last night’s SuperDooperBowl.
“Did you see it?”
“Yeah, I saw it, it was awesome!”
“What’s wrong with his voice?”
“Who cares! It’s great! He’s great! It was a great message!”
Last night, Twitter was ablaze with references to The Commercial. I would say that 80% of it was favorable. Don’t hold me to that number, it’s very much a guesstimation, but it’s directionally correct. Most people said they liked it. They especially liked the quick reference to the Madison protests. If you didn’t see it, here it is.
I’m in the 20% camp who didn’t like the commercial. I found the message manipulative, exploitative and, in retrospect, a hollow vision of America as a corporate controlled wasteland. The rah-rah of Corporate America, represented by the Chrysler automotive group, never referenced the destruction of good jobs in America through an endless series of trade agreements, championed by these corporate hacks, that moved work offshore and destroyed the manufacturing base of the midwest. With apologies to Saint Ronoldus, patron Saint of Crony Capitalism,
Chrysler isn’t the solution to our problem, Chrysler is the problem!
Forgive me if I can’t get all misty when a gravely-voiced Clint Eastwood tells me how we’re going to come back stronger than before. I’m sorry. I can’t do it. I’m not buying what Chrysler is selling through their High Plains Drifter spokesmodel. Because that’s what he is. A spokesmodel for a corporatist vision of America. The lone gunman. The guy who can overcome all obstacles. Except that that’s a lie. It’s the biggest lie we tell ourselves as Americans. The lie of the American Dream that anyone can make it. They can’t.
You see, the deck is stacked against the average American to a degree we haven’t seen in more than 100 years. Income inequality and intragenerational income rigidity have combined to make America pre-Revolutionary France. Born Rich – Die Rich. Born Poor – Die Poor. It’s now the American Way.
Forgive me for not cheering.