Days ago, while the celebratory confetti over President Barack Obama's second term hadn't yet rained down in Chicago, someone in Bangkok put a rhetorical question to a group of politically inquisitive friends: Would you love and marry a tall, rich, cool, smart, loving, caring, adorable, well-dressed, milk-fed, Javier Bardem-lookalike (for men, substitute the actor's name with a Victoria's Secret supermodel) and - here's the kicker - a staunch Romney-Ryan supporter?
"No way," a female friend said. "No Republicans in the house." As if we actually had Republican partisanship in the land of crooked smiles and an unfinished futsal arena.
"Yes, I would," said another woman friend. "Rich AND handsome. Shouldn't we give him a try? Just don't talk politics in the house."
"Rich, how rich?" chimes in another, a man, objectively.
"That person doesn't exist," another concludes. Sure, that person is hypothetical.
For the record, it turned out that over 50% of Caucasian females voted for Mitt Romney in the Nov 6 US election, so our question is, in a way, moot (though overall, females still prefer Mr Obama). But still, the issue isn't about robo-Romney or the Republican romantic factor; the question is a little exercise in democratic tolerance in the face of a great political divide.
Love is supposed to be the most efficient leveller (actually, it's sex) that melts away differences in religion, race, taste and class, and so we're wondering, with the schism widening, if politics is now the final taboo, the ultimate snag that defies love's idealism.
How much is a person's character defined by their political inclination, and is it enough to make or break their charm? Aren't opposites supposed to attract?
There are husbands and wives who cancel each other out at the voting booths - red vs blue in the US and red vs the rest in Thailand. Salon reported a story of an American husband who snorted at his wife when he was unhappy with Fed interest rates, "Thanks to your buddy Obama". Here in Bangkok, loving parents argue over the Yingluck-Abhisit dilemma, much to the bewilderment of their kids. Loving parents also read different newspapers and watch different cable channels, primed to their colour preferences. Then it's not just romantic love but paternal.
A friend of mine frets that she has to conceal her political views (she doesn't agree with the People's Alliance for Democracy) from her loving and PAD-loyal parents, otherwise sarcasm and resentment suffocate their normally happy house. It isn't easy though - she's a columnist.
That these parents and lovers remain together is a testament to love and its power to partially blind, but I'm curious about those in the early bloom of romance. When signing up for Facebook - whose original purpose was to facilitate dating, among others - you're asked to specify your political views. That's odd for us in a country where, traditionally, political leanings are not part of our identity.
Whether we agree or disagree with the democratic credo of the ruling party isn't taken into the romantic equation when we want to go out with someone. It was especially so in the time of our parents, but I've been wondering how much the great divide of the past few years has changed it now. You can run the rich-person-who-votes-Romney test and substitute it with XXX - fill in your antithesis.
I know a nice, well-to-do young woman who clearly sets down her rule only to date a man of the same political inclination, and thus a hot, crowded political rally is basically the most romantic place on Earth.
It makes sense: you look for someone with the same interests, and political interests take up a large part of consciousness these days. But a major difference, I suspect, between the American Democratic-vs-Republican partisanship and our own political divide is that in the US, your support of Mr Obama or Mr Romney ties in with the essence of their policies, world views and their beliefs in how the country, or the world, should be. There are objective, as much as that word allows, reasons why a certain demographic prefers to jump into bed with the president or his contender - from pro-life or pro-choice to budget cuts and tax schemes. Whereas here, policy plays second fiddle to personality cult; we're in love more with the person than with his/her idea. And only greenhorn lovers won't realise that that's exactly the recipe for romantic disaster.
With the heat turned up by the planned Pitak Siam rally, countered by the red-shirts' own gathering, you now have a new phrase to add to the marriage vow: "I take you to be my lawfully wedded husband/wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part - or until you switch to the join the other side, you scoundrel. Amen."
Kong Rithdee is a Deputy Life Editor, Bangkok Post.