Dipping once more into the mailbag, D sent us this story nearly a month ago. The Times has archived the original, so I'll set out more text than usual here:
If you watch a lot of cable news, by now you've probably heard someone refer to a bloc of voters known as '' 'South Park' conservatives.'' The term comes from the title of a new book by Brian C. Anderson, a conservative pundit who adapted it from the writer Andrew Sullivan, and it refers to the notion that Comedy Central's obscene spoof of life in small-town America, with its hilarious skewering of liberal snobbery, is somehow the perfect crucible for understanding a new breed of brash and irreverent Republican voters. In truth, aside from its title, Anderson's book has very little to say about ''South Park'' itself; it's really just a retread of the argument that the mainstream media is losing its grip on world domination, marketed rather cynically to appeal to the same red-state radio hosts and book clubs that make so many right-wing polemics best sellers.
If you watch a lot of cable news, by now you've probably heard someone refer to a bloc of voters known as '' 'South Park' conservatives.'' The term comes from the title of a new book by Brian C. Anderson, a conservative pundit who adapted it from the writer Andrew Sullivan, and it refers to the notion that Comedy Central's obscene spoof of life in small-town America, with its hilarious skewering of liberal snobbery, is somehow the perfect crucible for understanding a new breed of brash and irreverent Republican voters. In truth, aside from its title, Anderson's book has very little to say about ''South Park'' itself; it's really just a retread of the argument that the mainstream media is losing its grip on world domination, marketed rather cynically to appeal to the same red-state radio hosts and book clubs that make so many right-wing polemics best sellers.
The important thing here is that Hank Hill may be a Texan, but he and his friends could live in any of the fast-developing rural and exurban areas around Columbus or Phoenix or Atlanta that are bound to become the political weathervanes of the new century. The families in Arlen buy American-made pickups, eat at chain restaurants, maniacally water their lawns and do their shopping at the huge Mega Lo Mart. This could easily be the setup for a mean parody about rural life in America, in the same vein as ''South Park,'' but ''King of the Hill,'' which was created by Mike Judge (who is the voice of Hank and who also created ''Beavis and Butt-head''), has never been so crass. The show's central theme has always been transformation -- economic, demographic and cultural. Hank embodies all the traditional conservative values of those Americans who, as Bill Clinton famously put it, ''work hard and play by the rules.'' He's a proud gun owner and a Nascar fan. When Bobby announces that he has landed a job selling soda at the track, Hank solemnly responds, ''If you weren't my son, I'd hug you.''
As Arlen becomes more built up and more diverse, however, Hank finds himself struggling to adapt to new phenomena: art galleries and yoga studios, latte-sipping parents who ask their kids to call them by their first names and encourage them to drink responsibly. The show gently pokes fun at liberal and conservative stereotypes, but the real point is not to eviscerate so much as to watch Hank struggle mightily to adapt to a world of political correctness and moral ambiguity. When Peggy tells him he'll look like a racist for snubbing his Laotian neighbor, Hank replies, ''What the hell kind of country is this where I can only hate a man if he's white?'' And yet, like a lot of the basically conservative voters you meet in rural America -- and here's where Democrats should pay close attention -- Hank never professes an explicit party loyalty, and he and his buddies who sip beer in the alley don't talk like their fellow Texan Tom DeLay. If Hank votes Republican, it's because, as a voter who cares about religious and rural values, he probably doesn't see much choice. But Hank and his neighbors resemble many independent voters, open to proposals that challenge their assumptions about the world, as long as those ideas don't come from someone who seems to disrespect what they believe.
To me, this is yet another sign of the mis-marketing of America. Go visit Dell and try to buy a computer. Your first step is to categorize yourself: Home, Home office, Gaming, Small Business, Large Business, etc. Does anyone really fit in those categories? I'm always in the market for a new computer, but am rarely willing to spend the money. I want a computer to use at home. I will do work with the machine. I'll also play games on it, as will the Sisters Hammer. My real concerns are hard drive space and installed memory. (I need a lot of hard drive space because I prefer a dual boot machine so I can use Linux but the girls can play their CD-ROM games in Windows.) Rather than let me get after the machine I really want, the way I want to define it, Dell insists that I dress myself in ill-fitting slacks before walking through their aisles.
All this talk about soccer moms, security moms, South Park conservatives, and King of the Hill Democrats, is more of the same. It's pollsters putting barriers between candidates and their constituents.
I'm not saying that grouping customers and constituents is bad, just that it's gone too far. The grocery store doesn't have separate aisles for kids cereals, family cereals, grown up cereals, and feeling a little backed up cereals. It's all there together, but customers are pretty much able to figure out what they want without first deciding whether Honey Nut Cheerios is a grown up cereal or not. You don't need a half dozen categories for breakfast food.
It's just the same in the 2004 election. You don't need to divide voters more than 4 ways. You've got the Ignorant and the Misinformed, who voted for Bush and the Intelligent and the Wise who voted for Kerry. There's no need to get more complicated than that -- the real need is to start smartening voters up for 2006.
Ill-fitting slacks? I think I remember those. Didn't end up giving those to some St Paul dandy? Or was it your dignified brother, Dan?
As I recall, I was picking up the slacks and putting them on and your clog (?) slipped....
As I recall, I was picking up the slacks and putting them on and your clog (?) slipped....
I keep waiting for someone (Ms Hammer?) to tell us both to turn down the distortion.
I think she's in a deep, dark, watery trance.
I'm not the guy who named one of his daughters after a Trip Shakespeare song.
I just can't believe TS wrote a song about my wife's mother. Still, I'm glad Thing 1 has a song at all since Thing 2 has a more famous one.
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