It turns out The Most Interesting Man In The World is not just a focus-grouped construct designed by a team of skilled marketers firing at a younger demographic, but an actual human person with feelings and beliefs, one of which is that he likes this "Barack Obama" character who is currently sailing towards re-election against the worst political opponent in the history of anything, real and fictional, and yes I'm counting President Skroob from "Spaceballs," who at least had the smarts to keep a three-ring circus and some escape pods on his flagship.
You could, when illustrating your support for or opposition to a political candidate or party or ruling junta or cat running for mayor in Nova Scotia — seriously, why is Canada better than us at everything? — simply like that person. You could do so thoughtfully, intelligently, in words and deeds and money if you've got it and wish to receive 4,500 text messages a day for the rest of your life. You could even slap a free bumper sticker on your car and hope you're right, because those things are murder to scrape off with an Exacto come December, and yes I'm looking at you, Dad's Dukakis/Bentsen sticker, you infernally adhesive punk.
Failing that, you could lose your spongy mind on the Internet about beer. Whichever, I guess.
I speak of Dos Equis, which I know as "the beer my college roommate Sean graciously bestowed upon us several times a month" and "the beer we kept having to mop out of the couch on those occasions we felt like having a clean couch, which were rare." You, however, probably know it as the beer from the commercials with The Most Interesting Man In The World, the bearded awesomesmith who flips omelettes with tigers in his customized kitchens as a way to peddle alcohol to college students with filthy couches.
Well, it turns out The Most Interesting Man In The World is not just a focus-grouped construct designed by a team of skilled marketers firing at a younger demographic, but an actual human person with feelings and beliefs, one of which is that he likes this "Barack Obama" character who is currently sailing towards re-election against the worst political opponent in the history of anything, real and fictional, and yes I'm counting President Skroob from "Spaceballs," who at least had the smarts to keep a three-ring circus and some escape pods on his flagship.
The guy's name is actually Jonathon Goldsmith, and not, as I originally believed, "Kenny Rogers." And a few weeks back in Vermont he held a fundraiser for Barack Obama, which nobody really noticed because of Obama's failure to insult old people and military veterans on hidden camera in the midst of it. (He also notably declined to hopelessly give up on any sort of plan for peace in the Middle East, but, with several weeks left before the election, there's still him for him to abandon any notion of leadership he might have maintained.)
Naturally, when a minor celebrity hosts a political fundraiser in an inextricably crowded field full of them two months before an election, it's not that big a deal. And by that I mean it was apparently a huge giant deal, especially on Facebook, America's source for the informed electorate, and by that I mean two-year-old Kenya insults written in a reasonable approximation of American English. We could plunge down a whirlpool of unbearable sadness reading the quotes (as posted on Wonkette), but they're basically all improv riffs on this idea: "I just had my las XX beer,. this bastard who claims to be the most interesting man in the world is an obama (thing that newspapers don't print usually)! Screw Dos Equis! Beer of Traitors.." YES! Now this is the kind of witty, sharp point I can get behind, one so furious it needs dos periods to adequately wrap up.
Naturally the post continues with the pro-Obama drinkers piling on in opposite fashion, resulting in the second time this year that a measured approximation of actual poll data could be gleaned by tracking the sales of beer and/or fast-food semi-chicken, because this is America, a magical land where voters can be swung through the opinions of spokespeople on TV commercials. You could be expected to find your values, vote them and generally keep quiet about the whole thing, or you could scream like a maniac on a website, and, in a fit of barely controlled civic rage, drive to the Save-Mart and pick up a 12er. Or chicken tenders. Or not. (Except of course for the 47 percent of you who believe you're entitled to chicken tenders anyway.)
Jeff Vrabel is the 9,384,239th most interesting man in the world. He can be reached at http://jeffvrabel.com and followed at http://twitter.com/jeffvrabel.