Every campaign seeks the ad that defines the election. Sid Meyers, one of the 1964 LBJ ad team, put it this way in a wonderful Politico group interview. (By the way, the whole interview is full of brilliant ideas, such as showing the line of buses needed to deport 11 million.)
. . . [The ads] have to be done in a creative way where people will remember them. You can’t just say it; you have to do it in a way that’s memorable.
E.J. Dionne, in the Washington Post tonight, may have, perhaps inadvertently, suggested the ad that could so define, and thus finish off the election
Clinton’s speech did nothing more (or less) than show how ridiculous and self-destructive it would be for a democratic superpower to elect Trump as president. Not only did the emperor emerge with no clothes. The very idea of him as a head of state of any kind became laughable.
Imagine a shot of a Trump-like figure, dressed in a politician’s suit, from behind, of course.
Trump’s recorded voice, and text, relay his already disproved claims, disproving them, or showing their absurdity, one by one with voice only, and with each disproved claim, one more item of clothing is digitally removed. Perhaps you never even use his name.
Finally, with the last statement (perhaps that he is most qualified to be President), the shot changes to a messed-up pile of clothes, underpants on top, and the announcer and text say.
The Candidate-Emperor has no clothes.
The ad catches his vulgarity, grandiosity and gullibility — not to mention that of his die-hard supporters. It provides an opportunity to cut through the clutter to get attention for the truth about his lies, and it leaves one with two visually striking images at the end, the actual one of the clothes pile, and the imagined one of his naked view from behind.
Who is going to try it?