Texas Republican Party Accidentally Creates Killer Campaign Ad for Beto O'Rourke
On Monday, in an event that will have seismic implications for one of this fall's most compelling Senate contests, the Texas Republican Party formally abandoned its support for its nominal candidate, Ted Cruz, and threw the full weight of its social media apparatus behind his upstart challenger, Beto O'Rourke. Although the party has yet to issue an official press release commemorating this stunning decision, how else could you explain its latest advertisement, which appears to be tailor-made to remind voters that O'Rourke—in addition to being a smart, genuine person whom people actually seem to like—was in a fucking band, man??
It's true! As the Texas GOP's social media interns have so graciously pointed out, in the mid-1990s, O'Rourke played bass in Foss, a post-hardcore outfit, alongside future The Mars Volta and At The Drive-In singer Cedric Bixler-Zavala. The band released a debut 7-inch (The El Paso Pussycats) and a self-titled demo in 1993, and a full-length album (Fewell St.) shortly thereafter. They went on tour! Twice, actually! Last fall, the candidate told SPIN that his former bandmates have offered to help however they can with his Senate bid, and played at least one show to raise funds for his then-nascent campaign.
In other words, Beto O'Rourke still keeps in touch with old friends with whom he shares fond memories. Meanwhile, Ted Cruz—a competitive collegiate debater and Ivy League lawyer with an alleged predilection for strolling through the women's dorm in a paisley bathrobe—can't breathe a word these days without his college roommate roasting him as a weirdo at best and a chronically-indiscreet self-pleasurer at worst.
Cruz's most significant political weakness has always been that the more he strains to convince people that he is charming, the more he comes off as the socially inept weirdo who is liable to corner you at a party and talk for a half-hour about the shortcomings of Keynesian economics, all while standing a little too close to your face. His recollection of his best jokes, as he recently described them to GQ—"During the Obamacare filibuster, I read Green Eggs and Ham on the Senate floor. I did a Darth Vader impression. I did Simpsons impressions, and re-enacted scenes from The Princess Bride"—sounds like a mad lib created by someone who learned everything they know about pop culture from randomly-selected Wikipedia articles. I'm not sure if there's any way to make Cruz appealing to voters, but "reminding them that his opponent is actively cool and fun" is not one of them.
Should Texas Republicans second-guess this ambitious bit of strategic messaging, the good news is that Cruz also has hidden musical talents that they could choose to publicize in future advertisements. Did you know, for example, that the lyrics of "Amazing Grace" fit perfectly with the tune to the theme from Gilligan's Island? Because Cruz—a normal and relatable guy who thinks about about normal and relatable things, just like you—knows it, and he would be more than happy to demonstrate.
Rock on.
