I’ve always been one of those people who defends the intelligence of American voters. In the end, their choices may not be right by you. They may not be right by me. But they’re right by them, at least a majority of them, or in our president’s case, a sizable minority. And that’s democracy, I think. Your vote counts once, no matter if you have a PhD or work at the RMV. It’s a beautiful, egalitarian concept.

Recently, however, I’ve found myself asking a question that may cause a rift in my love affair with the American voter: just who the fuck are these campaign ads targeting? What sub-mental slice of our society is swayed by 60 seconds of slick images and dead air? And who is to blame for these expensive boots on the throat of the democratic process? The voters? The candidates? Or is this just another thing we’ll try and pin on the Jews?

Now, here in Massachusetts we’re supposed to be above average in terms of collective intelligence. But judging by the ads from this year’s gubernatorial race, our collective intelligence must have slipped to a level somewhere between chimp and rhesus monkey, because the two campaigns have brought the lowest common denominator to a new low.

My favorite ad from this campaign season has to be the Romney spot in which Mitt told us how he and his wife fell in love, complete with a story about their prom, some wedding photos, and a video of Mitt and the kids horsing around on a raft. Speaking of his wife, Romney concludes the spot by saying, "I fell in love with her then. I’m still in love with her today." Read: "Unlike that Clinton character, I still have sex with my wife." And I’m happy for them. They seem to have a very nice family and should hardly be penalized for that — so nice, in fact, that at one point Romney’s wife says, "We’ve tried to civilize the boys. Unfortunately, it’s been very difficult with Mitt. Yeah! He’s bad!" Of course, that’s in there so we don’t think they’re too civilized. And I hope she’s wrong, because let me tell you: if it gets any more civilized than the Romney family, shoot me now.

But despite being heartwarming and all that crap, what did this episode of Touched by a Romney have to do with him running for governor?

I wish I could say more for Shannon O’Brien’s ads, but they’re so canned that after suffering through them I found myself wishing she were horsing around with her kids on a raft. You’ve probably seen them: Shannon, supposedly talking to someone off the cuff, carefully dictates something about being on the side of working families and affordable health care — as opposed to being for unemployed families and higher premiums. How brave. Luckily for us, there’s a camera there to capture Shannon’s bullshit session with her off-screen constituent. Of course, O’Brien pulls off spontaneous about as poorly as Juliette Lewis pulled off retarded in The Other Sister. O’Brien’s not an actress, and that’s fine. I don’t want an actress. But I’d kind of like a governor.

Now, the candidates themselves deserve some of the blame for this nonsense. Nobody’s forcing them to produce these spots, to package every message in poll-tested drivel. Seeking authenticity in today’s political candidates is like searching for that worthwhile cassette in the bargain bin — it might be in there somewhere, but you’re never going to actually see it. But we, the electorate, bear most of the blame because, despite their affront to Tommy Lee’s intelligence, these ads actually work. In fact, we know they work because they’re the number-one expenditure in just about every major campaign budget. And politicians don’t throw money down a hole ... well, not their money.

So who are these campaigns ads targeting? Is it really the lowest common denominator, the nearly senile, the people who get their news from Fox? Perhaps. But lots of people sit there and take it. And I’ve come to realize that I’m one of them.

Yes, as much as I bitch about the ads and the negative effect they have on the process, I have to admit: I dig ’em. No sit-com can make milk come out of my nose the way a political ad can. And the more pathetic, mean-spirited, and off-topic they are, the harder it flows. To tell you the truth, I’m hoping that in these last few days the Romney campaign gets a really awful photo of O’Brien — perhaps taken just as she’s turned to respond to someone screaming, "Hey, Shannon! Nice ass!" — turns it black and white, runs it over the theme from Jaws, and accuses her of diverting state money to Islamic Jihad. Similarly, I’d prefer the O’Brien campaign Photoshop Romney’s head onto a shot of a fundamentalist Mormon and his 13 wives as a brooding voice intones, "Mitt Romney ... pro-polygamy, anti-Massachusetts." In other words, if it ain’t going to be informative, you better damn well entertain me.

But that’s the problem. In some respects, my lack of protest works in the same way the Nielsen ratings do. Take The Bachelor, for instance: you and I may think the show is trash, an affront to everything the feminist movement has achieved. But if we watch it so we can berate it the next morning around the water cooler, effectively we’re telling the network, "Give us more shit like this!" Well, through my silence I’m telling the political campaigns, "Give me more clips of Mitt serving up the sausage! Give me more girls spelling ‘O’Brien’ at the spelling bee! Give me more shit like this!"

So I guess I’m standing up for the intelligence of the American voter. We know this stuff is garbage. The problem isn’t intelligence; it’s apathy. And the realization that I’m part of the problem makes me want to write letters of protest, which is what I suppose this is.

But at the same time, I don’t want to derail the gravy train. So I guess if I do get the chance to talk to Shannon O’Brien, I’ll make some mention of her ads and how we, the people, could have used a little more in the way of substance. And if I see Mitt Romney, I’ll let him know that since he’s running for governor, I’d rather have heard a little more about his policies than his prom.

And then I’ll think of all that milk coming out of my nose and say, "Oh, Mitt? One more thing: damn, you look good with your shirt off!"

Jay Jaroch can be reached at jayjaroch@msn.com.