The six-percent solution

According to The Google, it was H. L. Menken who said, “Nobody ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American public.”

Every four years, the country bends over backwards to prove him right again.

In a political landscape that most polls agree is about 47% to 47% ideologically split, both presidential campaigns are playing to that handful of patriots who claim to not yet know for whom they plan to vote; hapless yokels who, after three years of Obama as president and nine months of the Republican primary in their rearview mirror, still haven’t quite figured out which snake oil salesman better represents their values and interests.

And that’s who’s going to decide this election. Not the 1%, not the 99%... the six percent who, while not necessarily book-stupid, are clearly not paying enough attention. Let me give you an example of the kind of intellectual featherweight who will decide the leader of the free world in November.

I’m talking about the kind of fellow who goes out of his way to take his kid with him to the voting booth a couple months ago, to show the tyke big-D Democracy in action. He and the kid get into the booth, and because the rocket scientist hasn’t bothered to pay attention the issues or the candidates, he plans to vote the straight party ticket. Except, much to his outrage (“This stupid state!”), none of the candidates are identified by party affiliation. The voter immediately goes into conspiracy-theory mode, assuming that the partisan hacks who run this state deliberately left the party labels off to confuse newcomers, and—let’s face it—idiots like him who haven’t done their homework. He angrily pokes holes in the ballot at random and goes home, fuming, to tell his wife about the injustice he has just suffered at the hands of The Man. She lets him run his mouth until he needs to take a breath, then says, “Honey, it’s a primary. They only gave you one party’s ballot. Did they ask you for your party preference before they gave you a ballot?” He says yes, and that’s when the conspiracy theory began to form in his mind; his wife’s expression suggests she is doubtful anything fruitful can form in her husband’s mind.

The saddest part of this true story—for me—is that I was the paranoid idiot with anger issues who forgot you only get to vote for one side in a primary. And I pay attention to politics, just, eh, not at the local or state level. (Hey, if George Will was on ABC every Sunday morning talking about Boise politics, I probably would have remembered it was a primary.)

But it’s going to be my people, stumbling cluelessly into the voting booth—who haven’t been paying a damn bit of attention—who are going to decide who sits in the White House for the next four years. People who will wake up on election day and mosey on down to the polling place and pull a lever. Reckon they’ll vote for Candidate X because they just plain like the cut of his jib.

In past elections that has been my fear, but this time it is my hope. In terms of likeability, Mitt Romney is for all intents jibless.

He is the Axl Rose of politics; even his biggest fans hate him.

Watching his surrogates on the news and politics shows has been a giddy delight. Every time the TV emcee (I’m sorry, ‘journalist’) brings up Romney’s wealth, or his caginess about it, or RomneyCare, or his very hush-hush religion, or you name it, all the mouthpieces scream “Class warfare!” and switch to rote apocalyptic bleating about the unemployment numbers.

It’s the only trick they’ve got. They answer every question—and I mean every question about anything from the economy to foreign policy to ice cream—with a talking point about the unemployment numbers. I know it’s their job to try to turn all interrogatives into opportunities to repeat their campaign’s chosen mantra, but this year’s crop just cannot be budged off their talking points.

This is because in addition to hating their candidate, the chattering class hate most of the positions he’s taken in the past and are loathe to defend either the man or his policies, lest he lose the election and they’ll have to live with the video clips for the rest of their careers. That’s how they remain so on-message; no one is temped to go off-script by passion or enthusiasm. It’s all they can do to swallow their gorge as they burp up their grim unemployment prognosis to any camera that will have them.

It would actually make a great college drinking game; every time Romney or a surrogate deflects a policy question with a critique of Obama’s handling of the economy, everybody drinks! Warning: You will need some seriously committed Dedicated Drivers.

Even more than Romney’s record and religion, though, his media managers are scared to death of his wealth.

I remember when John Kerry was successfully smeared as being out-of-touch and ‘an Elite’ for windsurfing in 2004. That’s all it took to bury him with Joe Sixpack.

Now imagine if he had traveled to London in the middle of his presidential bid so his millionaire wife could watch her dancing horse compete in the Olympics.

Seriously, think about it.

In the battle of windsurfing versus horse dancing, if you stripped away every piece of political baggage from both activities and asked the average guy on the street, they probably wouldn’t have heard of either. But just the words “Dancing Horse” would almost certainly elicit an involuntary chuckle, it’s so far removed from anyone’s daily reality. It sounds more like the pitch for a ’60s-era Disney family flick than a sporting event for the hoi polloi.

Which distracts from my point that Joe Sixpack doesn’t have jack-doodle to enter into pricey sporting events of any kind unless the Lotto is considered ‘sport.’ Joe Sixpack is doing considerably less well in 2012 than he was in 2004 and 2008—the Republicans are certainly making the case—so one would think the visual of a presidential candidate taking his dancing horse to London to meet the Queen would be even more potentially damaging than the optic of a candidate participating in a water sport that involves a surfboard with a sail.

I see the windsailing photo and, just like horse dancing, I think, “That’s a sport?”

And this year’s national ad wars have barely begun. Wait until after the conventions are over, and every last bit of campaign cash is freed up. It’s going to be an unspeakably ugly spectacle as both sides take whatever measures they deem necessary to sway that critical six percent… who won’t be paying any attention.

Barring unforeseen world or domestic events, this election is going to come down to which campaign apparatus can deliver the most disinterested voters to the polls.

Or as the Romney people would be sure to point out, if all the unemployed people showed up to vote, it would be a record turnout.

Everybody drink!