The Middle.

Art has a way of communicating a message -all the advertisers know that, but art also has a way of obscuring the truth of a matter -and all the advertisers know that as well.

Jeep used Springsteen to sell us a vision of the middle. The middle, beautifully presented as a place where rhetoric dies and unity triumphs over every obstacle. It was beautifully done. It was political. The message, though subtle, was at the same time obvious. Now that orange man is gone, we can unify around common, and long-held ideals –and we need to unify like no time in the history of the republic. So, let’s meet in the middle. Politically, let’s meet in the middle. Spiritually, let’s meet in the middle. Everything is sweet in the middle. But what is really in Springsteen’s middle? 

The middle was presented in terms of a small chapel, open to all, but ironically empty. Symbolically, this is perfect, because this is the way people like their religion –sanitized of power and only symbolic of love and unity. Religion without truth. Religion without conviction. Religion without zeal. Religion without Jesus. It’s an empty church building. 

In the middle, you will hear Fleetwood Mac, but not Stevie Nick’s murdered child. There will be a loud chorus chanting “my body, my choice” -while the millions who would make up the children’s choir are silenced on the publicly funded altar of convenience. But this is the middle. 

In the middle, the politicians are playing pretend, as they always do. Playing pretend with play money and unabated by term-limits, funding secret wars, making backroom deals, passing laws and penalties for the paupers while excusing themselves of their own violations. Follow the party rules! Don’t step out of line! And, for God sake, keep the power and money flowing to your special interests. Oh, and make sure to keep your citizens feeding at the trough of entitlements rather than climbing out of poverty.

Here’s what else is in the middle… it’s a woman… wait, no it’s a man pretending to be a woman! It’s a child, confused. There is a young woman mutilated and deformed. In the middle there is every form of twisted sexual expression presented like a buffet without shame. In the middle, things that are unnatural and biologically impossible are presented, no celebrated, as possible. It’s a fantasy land of gender and sexuality utopia. No rules, no judgement, no truth. And… they are coming for the kids. 

In the middle racism is gone, because after all, it was the orange man. But I can’t talk about that, because I am white. I can’t know, I can’t see, I can’t speak… I am unable to love my neighbor as myself. While in the middle, impoverished communities continue to be oppressed by policies designed to keep them so. “Here is a check, there is the dealer, and the clinic is just down the road… I am up for election in four years.” -we are the party of the middle.

What? You don’t like the middle? Shut up. You are canceled. In the middle there is no dissenting voice and no actual conversation, because we are in the middle, and YOU are extreme. We are the consensus, and we have a mandate. Rights are only granted to the conformed in the middle. 

The pitch is a classic advertising strategy. Here is something everybody needs. The cinematography is beautiful and the music is sweet, and the voice is a recognized and iconic one -it’s all presented as normal, natural, inviting. But the voice, like the entire presentation, is an act. It’s a performance, by an individual who has spent a lifetime and made millions pretending.  

Is this really the middle?

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