With each election year, American voters confer and ultimately elect a presidential candidate who can keep their country a progressive, global power. This year in particular, many American voters claim they want to elect a candidate who will improve the nation's image in the eyes of other countries. But do voters really know what their collective image looks like, in addition to where it comes from? In his 1972 essay Photography and Electoral Appeal Roland Barthes states that a candidate's photographic image functions like a mirror of the larger populace: What most of our candidates offer us through their likeness is a type of social setting, the spectacular comfort of family, legal and religious norms, the suggestion of innately owning such items of bourgeois property as Sunday Mass, xenophobia, steak and chips, cuckold jokes, in short, what we call an ideology. (1) Such a thorough image, if it does exist, does indeed turn the voter into a hero, one whose own projection of himself is electable. (2) But Barthes's three-page essay does not go far enough, because the full image of the voter is also located within the scripted moments that dominate daily life in the United States. Although the U.S. is a young country, it relies strongly on historical re-enactments--such as the Wampanoag Indian at Plymouth Rock, the Fourth of July, or George Washington crossing the Delaware--to preserve the authenticity of national identity. Stunt performers like Knievel or the wrestlers of the Word Wrestling Federation have engaged in daredevil acts that aid in the proliferation of America as a global brand. German photographer Jens Kabisch expands the boundary of the photograph and promotes the performative agent, to examine Americans' constant need for self-simulation. Unlike the daredevil who struggled to break past impossible odds. Evil blends into society and explores the tension that underscores much of the free but scripted life. A closer look at the artist's documented performances reveal a portrait of the American voter, which is heavily weighed down with irony, especially when seen in contrast to the work of Chris Burden, Larry Clark, Bruce Nauman, and Stephen Shore. The inquisitive photographs of Clark and Shore attempt to capture the underlying substance of the American Dream. Clark's phenomenal series Tulsa (1971) depicted young men shooting up drugs, driving cars, playing with guns, and engaging in violence. This particular collection of photographs echoed Clark's own demystification with the Midwest, which later extended to New York City. Shore's view of America appears in images of roadside motels, diners, bathrooms, homes, yards, and cars. With a strong focus on inanimate objects, Shore exposed the various mechanisms that sustain the daily mundane. Evil Knievel began where Clark and Shore left off. Inspired by Robert Craig Evel Knievel's heroic incarnation and a motorcycle jump over a 20-foot-long box of rattlesnakes and a cage containing two mountain lions. Evil Knievel transforms the outstanding hero who could defeat all odds into the American Everyman. Utilizing the process of duplication in both physical and photographic form. Evil proliferates through a series of likenesses while adhering to a highly curtailed public image that presents American society back to itself. At London's Hoxton Distillery in 2002, Evil Knievel rolled and kneaded plastic-like sausages as part of a performance titled, You Are Only Humans. Dressed in a red-trimmed white jumpsuit that sported a patch of the American flag, Evil is seen wearing mirrored sunglasses, headphones, an equally patriotic helmet, and a pair of shoes that together reflect the stars and stripes, symbolizing American freedom. In 2003, Evil spent one week in the Windows Gallery of London for More Balls Than Brains. Featured in the artist's self-published fanzine from 2005 titled Being Evil Knievel, the images from this performance depict Evil Knievel, sitting inside a window display wearing nothing but white underwear, a white t-shirt, and two blue slippers with white stars. …