by Greg Beato

Back in the Dial-Up Ages, when the megabytes flowed like Mogen-David at a George Allen seder, even a 20-page educational technology plan white-paper was a less excruciating campaign tool than a 28.8 Kbps attack ad. Aspiring revolutionaries foresaw electoral upheaval in temporary technological constipation, but luckily, just when it seemed as if Internet populists were poised to seize democracy from rich politicians, lobbyists, corporate fat cats, and other special interests, YouTube arrived. Far from being the first channel the many-to-many aesthetic into a channel, YouTube is responsible for putting people-powered politics in a holding pattern. Please excuse the technological interruption.

Sure, YouTube is a step backwards from the glory days of 2004, when a $2000 ad buy could yield a candidate as much as $80,000 in donations. But if YouTube advertising isn't actually profitable, at least it's free and unencumbered by campaign finance regulations -- plus it gives you a shot at reaching the indifferent masses.

At hyper-partisan blogs, you're not just preaching to the choir or even preaching to the preachers. You're preaching to the elect themselves -- their ballots were set in stone long ago. But YouTube? If the idiot box is for people who are too apathetic to vote, well, YouTube is for people who are too apathetic to watch West Wing. It's a chance to reach a whole new base, one harrowing attack ad at a time.

Except for Claire McCaskill and James Webb, however, few candidates are using the medium well. Instead, they're littering the vast dumping ground that is YouTube with the carcasses of standard-issue TV spots and debate footage that's less viral than an Amish kissing booth.

What makes a YouTube video work? In the words of media consultant Carter Eskew, the medium "favor[s] a kind of authenticity and directness and honesty." Of course, asking a politician to be honest and direct is like asking your washing machine to fry you an omelette: It wasn't designed for that, so things will probably get a little messy.

But ultimately it's not too hard to crack the code to YouTube success: Just be fifteenish, have no idea what you're going to say, get within licking distance of the camera, start talking. Swipe some poignant music from a Cymbalta commercial for your soundtrack and you're done. Unless you're in the mood to lip-sync -- then use an old REO Speedwagon song.

If that sounds too easy to work, well, that may be the case. Joe Lieberman, aka Lonelyboy64, could lock himself in his bedroom right now and start whining about how no one understands him-- not his parents, not the Democrats, not the Republicans, not Daniel -- and it's still possible no would watch. YouTube, after all, is a meritocracy, and in a meritocracy, the man with the most loyal group of ballot stuffers wins.

But how many campaign strategists are exploiting this fact? Recently, RNC Chairman Ken Mehlman went out and hired Hollywood conservative David Zucker (Scary Movie 4, Airplane) to produce a series of commercials for the GOP. For the first one, which showed how basketballs are almost as effective as Ronald Reagan's Star Wars plan in protecting us from evil empires, the release strategy was top-notch: Deem the clip too hot for official GOP sanction and unofficially publicize it through The Drudge Report.

Once Drudge started sending viewers to the clip, it quickly gained a foothold on YouTube's heavily-trafficked "Most Viewed" page, where even more people watched it. Its rise to the top was so sudden that eventually perplexed YouTubers started accusing the person who posted the clip of hacking the site somehow. (That person, known only as "sking28" had never posted a clip before and only joined YouTube that day.) And in a way, of course, he had -- just like anyone with a constituency big (or indefatigable) enough to watch a clip enough times to get it on YouTube's "Most Viewed" page.

But perhaps giving Mehlman credit for the Drudge leak is too presumptuous. Zucker has created a second ad; this one's about tax-crazed Democrat zombies and it's boring enough for the RNC to feel comfortable hosting it on its own site. But it's also on YouTube, where it's gone virtually unnoticed.

Why spend big bucks on Hollywood production values and then not even bother
to get a Young Republicans street team to turn it into a grassroots YouTube sensation? And why even go the Hollywood route when Grover Norquist dancing in his bedroom while lip-syncing to The Beatles' "Taxman" could be promoted just as effectively?

For the time being, it's probably best to keep costs down. A million YouTubers may vote for your favorite ad, but will they take the next step and vote for your favorite candidate on election day? As Howard Dean and Samuel L. Jackson can attest. Internet enthusiasm has a way of staying on the Internet. Still, as YouTube evolves, there's no question who will thrive there: Those who can rent the best talent and rig the system most skillfully. Sorry, great unwasheds, the filthy rich still rule.

Greg Beato (gbeato@soundbitten.com) writes for Reason, Las Vegas Weekly, and many other publications. He wrote last for Political Bite about Bill O'Reilly.