Duh, the meaning of meese
From the National Post (July 8, 2000)

Given the journalistic tradition of over-intellectualizing that which is devoid of intellect (Survivor et al.), an analysis of moose iconography and semiotics seems not only appropriate but in keeping with the Zeitgeist. The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle has just arrived in theatres, and if you somehow haven't noticed, the GTA is alive with the sound of fratboys ripping antlers off the herd of Fibreglas moose that have taken refuge on our fair byways in the guise of art.

In a wonderful Reese's moment (hey, there's peanut butter in my chocolate), these two icons were recently united. Outside the Manulife Centre at Bay and Bloor sits a Mel Lastman moose with a laminated picture of Bullwinkle Moose on it.

While French semiotician Jean Baudrillard never focused his energies specifically on the problem of le moose, he would surely agree that this is a perfect example of the postmodern (or is that postmoosedern?) hall of mirrors he so longingly predicted in such books as Simulacra and Simulation. According to Baudrillard, the silhouette first replaces the real furry, antlered animal and later overshadows it, becoming more real than that which inspired it.

So what do all these moose (or, as Bullwinkle once suggested, "meese") mean? The moose has traditionally traversed popular culture as a shorthand for dimwittedness, which helps to explain its reccurring prominence in American society. It started in 1912, when Theodore Roosevelt was denied the Republican nomination of that year. He formed the U.S. Progressive Party, which soon became known as the Bull-Moose Party, given Roosevelt's habit of saying, "I feel as strong as a bull moose" when asked "how-do-you-do?" type questions. The name stuck, but only until 1916, when Roosevelt rejoined the Republicans.

It wasn't until the last half of the 20th century that the moose made its way into more mainstream venues, including the aforementioned Bullwinkle J. Moose (a TV star from 1959 until 1964), Big Moose (the large and quick-to-temper dullard from Archie comics), Morty the moose from the opening credits of Northern Exposure and the Seattle Mariner moose mascot, to name but a few.

While Moosehead beer is a Canadian invention, it found great success in America, starting in the 1970s, when it launched southward with the slogan "The Moose is Loose." A decade later, Moosehead had become the fourth-largest beer import in the pro-antler U.S.

Certainly, there is Moose Jaw, Sask., and the spritely fellow on the back of our quarter, but in terms of propagating the moose myth, America is clearly in the lead. The best proof (beyond the fact that the moose is the official animal of Maine) is surely the 1976 book, The Evolution and History of Moosekind, by Bob Foster. It is an anthropomorphic overview of the moose, as originally chronicled in Crazy, a short-lived competitor to Mad magazine. Moose civilization, we learn, sprang from Moosopotamia and was spread farther by Alexantler the Great. (Remember, it was a short-lived competitor.)

Opinion about moose is sharply divided. In the Beastie Boys song, "Posse In Effect," from the 1986 classic Licensed To Ill, Mike D. took a strong political and cultural position when he declared, "I do the Smurf, the Popeye and the Jerry Lewis / I like Bullwinkle but I don't like Moose." With this seemingly simple half-rhyme, Mike D. seemed to be advocating more authentic representations of the antlered icon. The scorned Moose of Archie comics, after all, is a human with animal characteristics; Bullwinkle goes the opposite way. Baudrillardwise, the Beastie Boys were, as always, years ahead of their time.

Of course, the danger of over-analysis looms as large as the animal being examined. To paraphrase Freud, sometimes a moose is just a moose. Do we love that which makes us feel better about our perceived (or real) mental shortcomings? To quote Big Moose: "Duh."

Despite such stereotypes, the moose is changing. As Jonathan Kay reports in the July 1 National Post, "Big Moose, the erstwhile moron, is now passably bright." In the new film, Bullwinkle receives an honorary degree from his alma mater, Wossamatta U.

If only Canadians had been half as intelligent, we could now capitalize on these 15 minutes of moosemania, reposition the Moose(tm) brand, or license its image to Disney, much as we did our Mountie.

Alas, while the Cub Scout campfire song tells us that the "land of the silver birch, home of the beaver" is "where still the mighty moose wanders at will," the cultural examples above tell us another story: that he long ago wandered south of the border. Now, in proud Canadian tradition, we happily buy back our value-added natural resource at three times the price.