Budweiser, a pale lager manufactured by a Belgian multinational corporation, announced today, May 10, that it is temporarily rebranding its product under the name “America.”
Explained its branding firm’s creative director, "We thought nothing was more iconic than Budweiser and nothing was more iconic than America."
Whatever, dude.
Budweiser is horrible.
I hate Budweiser.
So now – through the end of an election cycle that’s stoked rage-fueled fires unlike anything I’ve seen since being born three years before the bicentennial – I hate America.
Apparently, I’m not alone.
Some people think this move is emblematic of marketing genius, a branding effort meant to tap into ‘Murican patriotism.
They are wrong.
At best, it’s a presumptuous push to drain money from the low end of the intelligence bell curve; at worst, it’s political war profiteering.
If Budwesier is America, America is a bland, formulaic entity that’s far less fulfilling than most countries in the world.
If Budweiser is America, you’ll get a debilitating dayslong headache after consuming just 12 ounces of it.
If Budweiser is America, diplomats of the globe's non-beer-named nations should stockpile Imodium A-D before negotiating with America.
If Budweiser is America, you’ll have to pee within 20 seconds of setting foot on her mighty shores.
If Budweiser if America, baseball fans in the city where its company was founded may call themselves the best in the game, but they most certainly are not.
If Budweiser is America, America is an entitled bully who thinks nobody’ll notice it’s actually based in the tiny European nation whose soccer team knocked the real America’s squad out of the 2014 World Cup.
If Budweiser is America, America thinks it’s OK to erect fences as a way to keep locals out of a music festival held on public land along the Ben Franklin Parkway.
If Budweiser is America, I’m no longer American.
So, you know what, go ahead and elect an orange guy to be your next president. Your death date's already etched into your tombstone.