Concerto for blunt instrument

An irregular heartbeat from d.o. to you. Not like a daily kos, more like a sometime sloth. Fast relief from the symptoms of blogarrhea and predicated on the understanding that the world is not a stage for our actions, rather it is a living organism upon which we depend for our existence.

Monday, September 27, 2004

Security Mom seeks NASCAR Dad for mutually degrading relationship

Is anyone looking into the sources for these hot-button voter categories like so-called “Security Moms” or “NASCAR Dads”? When examples of these nebulous voter groups are given by the talking heads in the corporate media they appear for all the world like code words for paranoid mothers and macho fathers. Great combo. Sounds like the perfect recipe for a dysfunctional family. Why shouldn’t they vote for George W. Bush and his den of retro reptilian handlers! If they really are clinically paranoid, neurotic egomaniacs they’d be right at home in the present White House.

On the other hand, these fabricated categories of U.S. citizens sound more like the same old, same old of perception management we’ve seen the neo-conservative corporate media dish out in the past. Putting U.S. voters in convenient boxes for “consumers” of news makes everything seem so…er…manageable? O that life was so simple.

This morning on NPR’s “Morning Edition”, listeners were treated to a little fluff piece on so-called “Security Moms”. They even trotted out Juan Williams, the corporations’ very own neo-conservative person-of-color, to lend the piece some air of authenticity, I guess. In the segment was the example of two moms, both teachers, both whose husbands are in Iraq, and both diametrically opposed in their choice for the next president of the United States. Were they both Security Moms? I guess that’s what the piece was implying, but when listened to on the whole, one could easily surmise that these fearful mums are flocking to the phony tough guy persona of King George. Perhaps that’s fitting given that “Security Moms” are being spoon-fed phony fears and that NASCAR Dads don’t seem so macho when they’ve run out of gas (and sensible positions) on the side of the road.

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