On Volvos, Lattes, and Other Bastions of Political Consumerism

American society is truly a strange and beautifully frustrated phenomenon. We love community, but loathe any threat to our sacred individualism. We fear the unfamiliar, but can’t stand stagnancy. We toss suspicious glances in the direction of foreigners yet enthusiastically welcome such exotic concepts as Asian food and athletes with spiffy-sounding names. Such tastes surround, define, and connect us on multitudes of superficial levels, and in fact establish the foundations of water-cooler small talk and a large portion of university sociology departments. But do our hobbies, restaurants, and television shows determine more than our daily schedules? Do things as simple as the daily newspaper and the coffee we drink influence political beliefs and cultural creeds? Do we gravitate toward a particular grocery store because our moral convictions dictate thus?

The terrifying realities of these and other crucial quandaries didn’t stop author John Moe from exploring them. Moe’s latest book is entitled Conservatize Me: How I Tried to Become a Righty with the Help of Richard Nixon, Sean Hannity, Toby Keith, and Beef Jerky. A lifelong liberal, Moe immersed himself in so-called “conservative culture” for the entirety of one undoubtedly excruciating month, sacrificing his NPR for Rush Limbaugh, his New York Times for the Wall Street Journal, and presumably his organic vegan pita chips for solidified beef rinds in a can, or whatever it is self-professed diehards of the conservative nature consume.

The result is funny. The book is genuinely light-hearted, and it contains that delicate blend of the colloquial and pseudo-intellectual that leaves the average American reader feeling good about him or herself for completing an entire book off the imposing Non-Fiction table at Barnes and Noble and just enlightened enough to indulge in a moment of appreciation for the plight of “the others.” This is all well and good in the interest of the public readership. I have to ask myself, however: what is the deal with the premise behind this book in the first place? Why do I find myself smiling and nodding and professing the glory that is “All Things Considered” when this guy talks about liberals and NPR? Are Americans so politically narrow-minded that we allow such stereotypes and generalizations to dictate our habits? And are these stereotypes accurate?

Moe’s analysis amongst his humor does not ultimately answer these questions. Are we conservative because we listen to Toby Keith and drive SUVs? Or do we listen to Toby Keith in our SUVs because we are conservative? Is it morally acceptable to blast the aforementioned country singer in our Prius en route to a Dennis Kucinich rally at a free-range chicken co-op?

The successes of the book lie in the fresh perspectives on the trivial and often hilarious realm of cultural separatism. Democrats and Republicans share passions and news sources in their efforts to create and sustain community. This is not only understandable but inevitable, and what must be remembered is that “extracurricular” pursuits are only surface reflections of the moral and political beliefs underneath. They should not be employed as a basis of judgment. An individual supporting the legalization of marijuana cannot automatically be pinned as liberal, for indeed, many of our most illustrious Republican leaders have displayed an affinity for varieties of consciousness-altering substances (see Salon.com’s 2001 reflections on a certain President here). In the same vein, an individual listening to Rush Limbaugh cannot be immediately pegged as an arrogant conservative, but rather simply an unfortunate victim of bad radio. It’s all in the specifics, and in an election-year, what could be more beneficial than a book encouraging the accommodation of diversity?