You might get only an opaque sense of it in Ireland, but it has been a truly silly week in American politics - and this is American politics at its best.
Of course, you are unlikely to hear too much of this sentiment, as it is far more acceptable to wax patriotic about the unique populist US electoral system, the shining light of global democracy that allows a craggy-faced Iowa farmer or a New Hampshire housewife to break bread - at least three times - with the next leader of the free world.
But the process is so relentlessly democratic at this stage that much of the early primary electoral festivities border on parody, especially at a moment when the candidates are starved for serious issues.
The formidable opponent for any candidate in Iowa was always going to be someone named Expected. (As in, "so-and-so did better than Expected.") Doing better than Expected can lead to Momentum, and front-runners George W. Bush and Vice-President Al Gore are understandably a bit greedy about momentum these days.
Since the Iowa results were pretty much what everyone did expect, however, the big news out of the cornfield state was that New York Post columnist and bona-fide character Steve Dunleavy was arrested for drunkenness at the Des Moines airport after an airline pilot called police, saying Mr Dunleavy was too intoxicated to board. Mr Dunleavy chose jail over a fine, saying it would make a better story, and that evening celebrated his 62nd birthday with his cell-mates.
And so now the world breathlessly awaits the election results from Tuesday's New Hampshire primary. Well, perhaps not the entire world. "I'm counting the minutes until the New Hampshire primary so we can get past the grotesque obsession with the media-coddled citizens of that marginal state. New Hampshire's tyranny over national politics must end," writes social critic Camille Paglia.
A bit huffy perhaps, but difficult to argue with Ms Paglia on this point. New Hampshire law demands that its primary election must be first in the nation by at least seven days. No presidential candidate has won the White House since 1952 without first winning in New Hampshire - with the exception of Bill Clinton in 1992, a fact that New Hampshire folk would as soon forget. They are indeed obsessed with elections. Their 400-member state legislature is the largest in the US, even though its population (1.2 million) is about one-thirtieth the size of California. With 224 towns, they elect everybody - from library trustees to city clerks. They even elect a new governor every two years, instead of four-year terms for most states.
And so the candidates trudge on through the snowdrifts, trying to meet every single voter in New Hampshire, trying to discuss the issues even though the tiny state, like Iowa, has little in common with most US cities. What will George Bush say about teenage pregnancy in a state that ranks 49th of 50? What will Al Gore say about violent crime in a place that ranks 48th of 50? What will Bill Bradley say about taxes in a state that is one of only two in the US with no sales tax and no income tax?
You can be sure they will find something to say, no matter how silly or blatantly toady. On Thursday, the Bradley campaign sent out a press release noting that the candidate's wife, Ernestine, speaks four languages and would be showing off her Spanish to students at the Centro Cultural Latino. Later, she would display her French at Chez Vachon. No matter that the New Hampshire population is 98 per cent English-speaking.
You have to feel for them. It is not easy to campaign for president in these days of voter complacency, a mood inspired by nine years of economic prosperity, low unemployment, low inflation, and low expectations of Washington leaders. And bubbling just beneath the surface is the likelihood that, given the arguable dearth of real issues, personality and personal behaviour will rise again as the ultimate factors in this election.
There are already signs the campaign is going to get ugly. A small newspaper called the Foster Daily Democrat joined 13 other local papers in endorsing Mr Bradley last week with an editorial that read: "Character and integrity have to be major issues in the choice of a Democratic nominee for president this year. Bill Bradley has returned to the political wars with the clean face and clean hands with which he left the Senate."
It is hard to escape the inference that Mr Gore's reputation is otherwise. In fact, Mr Gore is probably hoping that the latest ruckus over pot-smoking will be short-lived. The Vice-President has admitted to smoking marijuana on a few occasions, but said he never smoked after 1972.
Now a long-time friend and former reporter, John Warnecke, says that he and Mr Gore smoked pot hundreds of times, that he supplied Mr Gore with pot and hashish, and that Mr Gore smoked after 1972.
An interview with Mr Warnecke is contained in a book about Mr Gore due to be published on March 23rd. An excerpt is also to be published in Newsweek.
The Vice-President has been a strong anti-drugs voice; last year, 682,800 Americans were arrested for possession of marijuana.
Mr Bush may have his own worries. Questions about his position on abortion were repeatedly directed at him this week. The persistence of those questions may be linked to rumours that are surfacing about his past.
Expect more of this. Unless the economy plummets, or the spectre of military conflicts looms again, personality and character will drive this campaign. In this climate, it may drive the level of discourse into the gutter.