That Girl on the Fabric

Last Friday's Olympic opening ceremony was full of images, icons of deeper meaning. One that stands out in my mind, which the commentators so unabashedly "called out" during its display, was that of the young dancer with teal streamers, carried on a giant fabric, that was supported from underneath my a legion of men. The idea of many faceless grunts striving to support and elevate one beautiful individual is something wonderful, and perhaps specifically Chinese, and sadly un-American.
Barak Obama has again and again been criticized for being aloof, elitist, effete, intellectual, exotic, international, and thus "out of touch" with white, middle, common America. I am reminded of (and nauseated by) the fact that many people voted for George W. Bush over Al Gore in 2000 because they'd rather "sit at the bar and have a beer" with the Texan. Why do we want "one of the guys" to be our head of state? Why don't we want the "best of the best" to take that charge?
The reason is that this is America, not China. This is a place where we are all equal, and we don't want to be one of the hundred faceless grunts holding up that dancer. We each want to be, and feel like we are, the one chosen one. We are Neo, John Wayne, Maverick, John McLane. The Hollywood heroes are engineered to be great while being normal, so that we feel like we too could, at any moment, be great. In fact, we tell ourselves, we already are. This is the reason for our culture of entitlement, consumerism, and waste. "I am the King," we feel, "so I'll live like such."
So instead of hearing Obama's elevated intellectual rhetoric and saying, "This man deserves to be President," we see that he is smarter than us and therefore mistrust him. I'm the greatest, therefore he must be "out of touch." I deserve to be President, yes me, well at least someone just like me, who drinks Pabst.
That girl on the fabric doesn't drink Pabst.