I hate big companies. There, I’ve said it. They invade your living room and your computer and your phone, your newspapers, magazines, radio. They infiltrate every aspect of your life from what to wear, what to drive, how to eat, where to drink…effectively how to live your life. They bombard you with adverts in every medium, promoting clean living, responsible drinking, being kind to one another. It’s all white teeth, sandy beaches, slim women with perfect breasts, hairless men with six-packs, happy pensioners, still in love, enjoying their twilight years…all the same old utopian bullshit.
If companies want to use symbolism then they at least should have the honesty to reflect the world that we live in, rather than an idealised dream where maybe 1% of the total world population can start off the day with a pillow fight with their semi-naked model girlfriend before driving to the beach for lunch followed by the best seats in the house for the World Cup Final and topped off by a pool party on a cliff-top locale. Why? Because while the playboys and millionaires can aspire to these unrealistic of ideals the rest of us are at WORK, in the real world, surrounded by ugly fat people who smell bad rather than of ‘Pretension’ by Calvin Klein.
Of course we expect corporations to sell the dream, after all images of ugliness and pain don’t create the necessary escapism we need. Fair enough but have you ever tried calling the people who are responsible for these modern myths? - those same people that commission the ad with the puppy that brings you toilet roll when in reality it’s an uncomfortable jog to the kitchen cupboard with your under-crackers round your ankles. Yes, those bastards.
I do it every day. It’s my job and let me tell you something…its all lies. For example when you’re on a phone call and the robotic woman on the message says – “Please hold the line your call is important to us.” Then when you call through to speak to the Marketing Director and the monosyllabic receptionist in Darfour says that they don’t take calls and you’ll have to email, the first thing you think is –
“But I thought my call was important to you.”
My personal favourite is if you’re the lucky lottery winner that manages to get through to them (when they’re not at lunch for 3 hours or in their fifteenth meeting of the week or they’ve gone home at 4 because they only work three days a week and finish early on a Friday – is when they get the hump because they’ve never spoken to you before and you have the audacity to call them at work. I always respond with – “Well I never gave you permission to invade my living room a dozen times a night selling your rubbish but you do it anyway.”
So don’t believe the hype, don’t buy the products, watch as these businesses fail and get replaced by other businesses promising the same intangible dreams, of lifestyles that you’ll never have or women that you’ll never fuck. Be happy without things and they’ll stop trying to sell you them.
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