Truthiness In Advertising” by Tom Nussbaum

By Tom Nussbaum

“Conrad Pitzer kicked a puppy! And he wants to represent you in Con-

gress?” a campaign ad claims. A sadeyed cocker spaniel stares from the television screen, begging the viewer to ask, “How horrible is that man?” But I don’t because I realize this is an “attack ad” and I know the truth.

On the campaign trail, Pitzer regularly tells the tale of kicking his stuffed doggie, Bow-Wow, in a “terrible twos” temper tantrum. As a result, his parents never let him have a stuffed animal again. “That experience taught me to remain calm and avoid making rash decisions,” he finishes the story. “That is why I would make a fair con-

gressman.”

That ad and that scenario are not real. But it could be real because it is representative of the low-level political campaign ads have reached.

There are few Federal Communications Commission (FCC) regulations regarding content of campaign ads. There may have been negative attack ads when I was young, but they were rare. An understood code of “truth in advertising” existed. Since the 1980s, however, attack ads, disregarding honesty and the humanity of the opponent, have become the norm.

“Will a cheater like Landis Derringer be an honest mayor?” poses another ad. The woman facing the camera continues. “I had an English Literature class with Derringer in college. And I remember him telling me he hadn’t read all of Thomas Hardy’s The Mayor of Casterbridge and had to rely on CliffsNotes to discuss the novel in class.” An investigation, however, would show that the class syllabus did not include the Hardy novel and the woman accusing Derringer of cheating used CliffsNotes herself for George Orwell’s 1984.”

The use of attack ads increased in 2010 with the advent, acceptance, and legalization of independent expenditure committees, Super PACs, and groups like Citizens United. Because these groups are not officially part of candidates’ campaign committees or national parties, they answer to no one.

“I have never lied to you. I never will,” states incumbent Blythe Leigh Tannenbaum. “But my opponent continues to deny that one of his campaign workers, a Pablo Gonzales, immigrated illegally from Central America.” Tannenbaum shakes her head. Records show, however, Gonzales, a third-generation U.S. citizen, moved from Kansas—that’s central USA, not Central America—to work on the campaign while his wife completed her PhD at a nearby university.

Rather than focusing on a campaign’s own candidate’s strengths, views, plans, and values, attack ads, whether generated by the candidate’s committee or a supportive independent group, target the opposition, highlighting out-of-context quotes, exaggerations, misinformation, and lies about the opponent. Rarely do these ads include party affiliation, counting on a confused, gullible public’s emotional response rather than critically evaluating the ad’s claims or source. The purpose, of course, is to discredit the opposition, dehumanize him or her, and instill fear and distrust into the electorate. Gone are the days when, as “Dragnet’s” Sgt. Joe Friday said, “Just the facts, ma’am.”

By smearing opposing candidates in political ads, campaigns have let the electorate off the hook. Voters shouldn’t need to rely on ads for their information. They could get it by simply following the news, relying on a variety of fair, respected sources, analyzing what they have learned, and remembering. That is the voter’s responsibility. Were the electorate to do this, they would leave campaign admen the simple job of reminding them of their clients’ strengths, values, and ideas. Instead, the public has allowed these conmen to take campaign advertising on a downward spiral.

We have reached the point that anything goes in campaign advertisements, that any statement or claim made about the political foe is acceptable, even if it is caked with layered absurdity, like my sense of humor.

“My opponent hates policemen and wants them to starve to death,” asserts Bucky Dunbar while scenes from a decades-old, out-of-control Chilean riot flash on the screen. His challenger, Wendell Heffelfinger, whose parents are a policeman and prosecuting attorney, merely wants to reduce police funding by 20 percent, targeting unnecessary highpowered military equipment.

On the other hand, Heffelfinger’s ads claim “Dunbar wants the tongues of all protesters cut out and their fingers lopped off,” when all the latter said was, “Looters and destroyers of public property should be arrested.”

Dunbar and Heffelfinger might have a point there. Perhaps, political admen, who might be considered looters and destroyers of our public airways, should be arrested. And have their tongues cut out and fingers lopped off. Tom Nussbaum

This is a regular feature column inspired by the September 15, 2019 Open Circle presentation of stories that manifest “Mexican Grace.”

El Ojo is looking for more anecdotes that relate the many encounters, initiated by expats or locals, that exemplify the special forms of mutual giving and receiving that define the Mexican Grace that brought us to this unique paradise--and that keep us here.

Please email articles of up to 900 words with a Title and your name at the top to both victoriaAschmidt@gmail.com and loretta.downs@gmail.com.

Photos are welcome.

AN OPEN HEART

By M. L. Reed

Before we came to Mexico, my husband and I spoke with an expat who had

lived here for a while. We asked her what she liked most about living Lakeside. “The heart of the people!” she re-

plied, without hesitation. We had been struggling after some challenging setbacks, and ended up moving across the States housesitting for a couple of years. We were at odds about coming down here; he, strongly

in favor; my objections weren’t to Mexico, but rather that I was drawn to return to the East Coast, to family and old friends.

Figuring I wouldn’t have any peace until I at least tried it, I finally made a decision to check out Mexico. When I did, I told him I was willing to put our struggles about it behind us, and would embrace the adventure with an open heart.

Our first night in Mexico, too tired after driving all day to eat in the hotel dining room, we ordered take-out to bring upstairs. It took exceedingly long, even for Mexico, considering we were the only customers. My weary impatience turned to instant delight when I found out why the delay. The chef surprised me by writing Happy Birthday in chocolate icing on a plate with one of the best pieces of chocolate cake I’ve ever had. He made a tiring travel day feel like a real birthday!

Then we met Hector, a Yaqui Indian who helped us get a flat tire fixed our second day on the road. I noticed children’s Halloween-themed art on the door of his shop and told him Halloween was my birthday. He pulled out more artwork made by the creator of the crayoned jack-o’lantern. With great pride he showed

me a small cardboard cemetery memorial his grandson made for a school competition for Día de Los Muertos.

He entertained me as his worker fixed our tire, for fewer pesos than we expected, and had us on the road with less than an hour delay.

Hector said his people had belonged to the land of Sonora for centuries, making a sweeping hand gesture to indicate the area around us. He did not say the land belonged to his people. He said his people belonged to this land; a subtle, yet profound, distinction.

Later on we passed a towering statue of a powerful Yaqui Warrior. I understood the heart-swell of Yaqui pride a little more because of Hector’s Grace, and the statue brought a tear to my eye as we drove by.

Then there was the four-yearold boy who walked away from his mother in a store to hand me an orange paper heart; we’d only been here two weeks. Did he sense that I needed a little cheer, being so far from my own loved ones? I met his mother’s eyes and we nodded to each other and smiled. More heart connection. That paper heart lifts my spirits still and is a reminder of my pledge to keep my own heart open.

My heart was touched again when my husband returned from errands one day with a yellow rose, from one of my favorite merchants. She found out I was grieving a friend’s passing. Her gesture went a long way in lightening my heavy heart. She said it was a “rose for remembrance.” I will never forget her kindness.

Perhaps anywhere we travel with our own hearts open, we will find other open hearts, but the Mexican people make it easy. “El Corazón de Los Mexicanos es Muy Hermoso.” The heart of the Mexican people is very beautiful.

M. L. Reed