Let us begin with the myth of manifest destiny. Historically, manifest destiny meant that God himself had decided that America should push its western boundary to the Pacific, but it has come to be a belief that America is, and should be, the most blessed and powerful nation in the world. This myth is so intrinsic a part of the national makeup, even in this era of antinationalism, that it goes fundamentally unquestioned. We take it for granted that Clark Kent should have grown up in Smallville U.S.A..and should have fought for "truth, justice, and the American way." But what would have happened had Clark come to perch in Tijuana or Toronto? Could Americans have acknowledged a Superman whose blue leotard sported a maple leaf instead of stars and bars? I doubt it.

Advertisers usually appeal to manifest destiny when their product needs good press. If, for example, the price of a commodity has grown extremely high, pitchmen quell would-be consumer rebellion by reminding their customers that a purchase contributes to national greatness. In other words, don't buy Blandco gasoline for quality or price--everyone knows it's ordinary and expensive--but to keep America strong, to keep foreign interests out; so the advertisers tell us. Moreover, the consumer is reminded of the by-products of petroleum which are responsible for a miraculous upturn in the civilization: men on the moon, heart valves made of plastic, increased agricultural production, and cures for acne. For sure, more than bicentennial gewgaws have been sold by appealing to national prestige. "God," as Kate Smith has reminded us for years, may indeed "bless
America."

A second myth and a corollary one is that of racism: the myth that white people are and always will be superior to their black brethren. For years, the American movie industry notoriously championed this view by playing blacks only in stereotypic, demeaning roles too numerous to list. Indians fared little better. Portrayed usually as howling subhumans, they barely even began to speak in the movies until the 1950s. In the early movies, white men showed more compassion shooting squirrels than they did red men. This is especially evident in the "Eastern" westerns of the thirties such as Northwest Passage, Drums Along the Mohawk, and The Last of the Mohicans.

On TV racism is sold subtly and subliminally to the allegedly sex-starved housewives of America. Advertisers have decided that sex can sell only if it does not scare. Black sex can scare. Hence, a phalanx of super-white supermen is dredged up to do battle in the kitchens, laundries, and bathrooms of America. First, Mr. Clean, exotic but oddly avuncular, charmed the ladies in his white duds; then the White Knight charged through their backyards clutching his utterly phallic white lance and riding his equally phallic white horse; next, Big Wally popped out of their walls with a few household hints and a knowing smile. Cleanliness does have something to do with the whiteness of these fellows, but no such rationalization can be offered for the Man from Glad, the whitest white man of them all. Women's ad, on will notice, are often littered with white horses, white swans, white fog as well as white men.

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