Ron Paul’s Big Dog ad makes me hungry

Campaign: Big Dog
Client: Ron Paul Presidential Campaign Committee
Rating:

By Jamie Thomson

In the hugely entertaining battle of the barrel-scraping nitwits that is the Republican Presidential nomination race, Rick Perry has scored a wealth of column inches with his highly unpopular ‘Let me protect you from Christmas-hating heathens and heavily armed, combat-ready homosexuals‘ gambit. But it’s something of a shame that, aided by a crop of Perry pisstakes that have popped up almost immediately (including one by Jesus himself, no less), it has overshadowed Ron Paul’s bombastic new effort:

This is probably because Paul’s 35-second brain fart is, by contrast to Perry’s ads, utterly beyond parody – indeed, it takes a number of viewings to determine whether or not it’s actually serious. (Oh, trillion with a ‘T’ you say? Ah, right. I thought you said ‘Brillion’, which is an equally valid measurement in the macro-economic school of ‘making shit up while sounding big and important’.)

Once I established that, yes, this was in fact a real political ad, two things struck me: first, with the relentless pacing, explosions and young-person speak (“That’s how Ron Paul rolls”) the target demographic seems to be exclusively bratty adolescent males (‘Huhhuh – shitzu! … Yeah! Blow up the schools! Affordable housing? Pffft! Fuck that shit!’). Now I know Paul’s libertarian views tend to set him at odds with the GOP’s conservative base, but even he should know that 14-year-old boys will be nowhere near old enough to vote by November 2012, no matter how ‘free’ he wants America to be.

Second, was it just me, or did anyone else feel hungry watching this? The rugged, free-thinking voiceover guy had clearly just finished a job advertising a chain of Texan steakhouses, and seemed on the verge of saying: “We’re TAKING OUT all those USELESS government departments and replacing them with … THREE 100% beef patties, SMOTHERED with Jack cheese and a MASSIVE side of home fries. (This Thursday only. Coupon not valid in conjunction with other offers.)”

So now I’m annoyed, have had my intelligence insulted and am totally ravenous. Way to go, Mr Paul, way to go.

Jamie Thomson is a music writer for the Guardian, the Quietus and others. He covers the noisy stuff that makes the other journalists cover their ears and wince