No. 65 - Advertising Rage

Ads Hole

There's a giant eye in the sky, sinister and all-knowing, watching every one of us -- kind of like Sauron's eye in "Lord of the Rings," but not nearly as kick-ass (and a lot less friendly). This omniscient being sees what you do in your most private of moments, and yes, even watches you when you do that...thing that you do with the shampoo bottle and the cocoa butter. You know.

This eye is searching for something intangible, something no one can pinpoint. It's looking for coolness, and how to sell this coolness to you with lots of plastic and twistie ties and limited warranties.

There may not be a literal eye watching you at all times (notwithstanding those PCP users reading this right now), but we are being watched and communicated with via the thousands of messages that lurk everywhere we look. Execs in starched shirts and khakis are plotting our psychological futures, what we will think we need tomorrow, or in ten years.

What we see in ads are beautiful people having fun, more bliss than we'll ever imagine, the equivalent to approximately two million drunk circus clowns. Wow, does holding a candy bar really make someone that happy? We want in on that action. Is it possible that buying anything will make me this cool?

And then you think, if I open this bottle of beer, will a party spontaneously erupt in my tiny hole of an apartment with strobe lights and hundreds of people? If I buy this car, will hot models throw their panties at me while I'm driving by?

Messages are at every turn, swatches of rural highways lit up and animated like Times Square. We have enough personal distractions to begin with, yet we're bombarded with these messages every single day.

Even a trip to the most rural areas of this expansive nation are not exempt from advertising's evil grip. Just the other day, we were in the deep woods of Minnesota and witnessed a deer carrying a giant sign for Crazy Fanny's Furniture Factory, and nearby, a raccoon ran by with a Nike symbol shaved into its side. Shame.

Let's digress and be realistic: we would not turn down advertising of any sort, because we could abandon our desk jobs if advertising were generous enough. The point is, those creating advertising are not bad. It's the repercussions, the smiley mascots that take on lives of their own -- the babies who recognize McDonald's and Walt Disney characters before they even utter a word.

Bless the advertising gurus, some of whom are brilliant and funny, but damn them on the other hand for studying us and waging war on our psyches. But like Patton, we fight back. We record our television, only to skip the commericals, and what do they do? Infiltrate the shows themselves. Case in point: "The Office," a brilliant program, but also a blatant shill for HP and Cisco, among other products. But we tolerate this because the show is that good.

We would let advertisers tattoo messages inside of our eyelids if that's what it took to watch our favorite television shows or movies. Yes, this particular entry is inspired by Adbusters (http://www.adbusters.org/) for whom we thank graciously for opening our eyes to many new ideas and for introducing us to Culture Jamming.

No. 39 - Oversized, undersized

We've long been a country of extremes, desiring the most lascivious of luxuries, yet condemning them at the next turn. As Americans, our vices identify us and shape how people perceive us. This imbalance is most evident when you look at what we consume.

In our need for consumption, the word moderation doesn't even enter the equation.

We love the monstrous portions of food, but with a diet drink. Our sisters and daughters wear next to nothing to school, yet the strongest voices are clamoring for abstinence (just thinking about sex will burn your retinas from your eye sockets!).

First, the oversized: king-size beds, giant pickup trucks and SUVs and trough-like syrupy buckets of "Biggie" drinks, not to mention oversized backsides that women owners like to display all too prominently in all its rippling cottage cheese-esque glory.

And then there's the other end of the spectrum: undersized. Again, these same ladies with oversized backsides tend to throw undersized clothes over their gelatinous mounds of flesh, creating a three-dimensional map that's way too vivid and leaves nothing to the imagination.

Food makers are now giving us 100 calorie diet portions of our favorite food. In actuality, they're reducing the portion sizes and charging the same price, then slapping a "healthy" sticker on the box, and voila! Instant health. Amazing. It's like we're all infants and will keep eating until we explode were it not for the rations that these food makers are so generous to mete out to us.

And while we're on the topic of undersized, our culture has an obsession with tiny things. Little salt-shakers, miniature tubes of toothpaste, those tiny bottles of ketchup that are ridiculously difficult to empty, tiny burgers, palm-sized computers: it's as if there's some little person conspiracy afoot. Their master plan is to miniaturize the entire world.

My phone's better because it's tinier. This iPod is so small, it's awesome, you can't even see me holding it right now, you can only see it with a microscope. The earbuds actually fell into my ear canals, so the iPod is now part of my nervous system. My dog is cool because I can fit it in my pocket. That's not a dog - that's a keychain, genius. And while you're at it, quit putting clothes on the little furry beast.

Maybe the big girl holding the dog can use the poodle tutu as a hankie, or a patch for when she sits down and rips her ....