They call it 'Happy Holidays'...

... because with all the emphasis on store deals and Santa Claus, it's like Jesus (or the concept of Jesus) never existed.

Happy Holidays/Merry Christmas

Volcano: My Personal Brand

My logo.

For my Advertising class in the Red River College of Applied Arts, Science and Technology Creative Communications program, we have been assigned to create personal brands for ourselves.  As you can see, I had to design a logo for this project.  I created a moniker called "Volcano".

Why "Volcano"? Why not just "Zach Samborski"? Well, I figured it would be good to create a concept that stood out.  In many ways, I am like a volcano.  Before it erupts, a volcano is simply just a form of mass rock.  When the volcano erupts, it stands out above everything else.

I am like a volcano in that I am as conservative as the rocks that surround me from time to time.  But on the odd occasion, I'll erupt -- not in anger, but rather in terms of projecting things like major creative ideas, opinions, and humor.  Some people have their own concepts.  For Hunter S. Thompson, there was Raoul Duke.  For me, there is The Volcano.

Like the volcano that erupts, I make my ideas known and my opinions clear when the time calls for them.  I will not be afraid to speak my mind on a given subject.  In my Journalism class, I spoke with anger when discussing parking meter increases.  I noticed I had the attention of almost the entire room.  In The Writer's Craft class, I was doing crazy song and dance routines that also had the attention of the entire room.

Like a volcano, I am unpredictable, and when I erupt with ideas, I seem to unleash them all at once.  I believe in the dramatic and the conceptual, and I try to incorporate the conceptual into almost anything, including the logo above.

Like a volcano, I make the strongest statement.  Like the volcano's eruption, I form strong opinions.  I am rarely apathetic.  I believe in a world where the unjust are rightly punished, where kindness is rewarded.  And I believe that collective thought should never take precedence over individual creativity.

And once I exit this Creative Communications program, I hope to leave my conceptual mark in the real world.  As someone who is hoping to major in Public Relations, I want to create campaigns of intrigue and memorability.  I want to take complicated messages and simplify them into memorable logos or one-word statements.  I want to create things that cannot go unnoticed.

It is necessary to blend in with all other rocks for awhile and then erupt with ideas at the precise moments.  Eruptions are not memorable if they are never-ending.  Eruptions are only memorable because they take people by surprise.  Sooner or later, I want to be known as someone who took the world by surprise.





"Viewing" Audiences

I consider myself to be a highly analytical person.  And whenever I hear about a television show getting big, I try to picture the audience watching that particular show.

Take the show True Blood, for example (or just about any other show on HBO).  I have never seen a single episode of True Blood, but I have seen video clips and images.  I have also seen some of the marketing campaigns for that show (and the DVD covers).  After seeing these videos and images, I sort of have a picture of the typical True Blood viewer.  All of the actors and actresses on the show are in their mid 20s to early 40s, and I picture the audience to be in that same age range.

The True Blood viewer probably lives in an apartment or condominium, and is likely female.  She probably listens to Adele and goes to Starbucks every day.  I'm guessing she may read some Nicholas Sparks novels from time to time.  She probably likes to talk about Ryan Gosling or whoever you find in PEOPLE.

It may sound stupid to say you know who the typical True Blood viewer is.  But if you look at how the show is marketed, you can see there are subliminal messages intended for specific demographics.

Just take a look at this picture of the cast:

 

(source: sciencefiction.com)

 



Look at how they are dressed.  Look at their facial expressions.  Look at how they pose.  If you're in your late twenties, you can relate to this depiction.  You can relate to the sexual undertones and the depictions of youth.

 

You cannot create a successful television show if you invent characters out of thin air.  You need to know what people are wearing, what kind of alcohol people are drinking, and what fascinated people.  The most successful television shows are ones with characters that mirror their audiences.  People in their late twenties and early thirties obssess over this show because they can relate to the characters. 

 

In many ways, it is our narcissism that dicates our viewing habits.  We want to be told that we are important.  If we get that message, then we will listen.  People do not watch True Blood because it is about vampires.  People watch True Blood because it's a show about twenty-something and thirty-something yuppies who encounter what we call "first-world problems".  Vampirism is just the hyperbole.  Cosmopolitanism is the main message, and that is why I picture a cosmopolitan audience watching True Blood.  The "vampires" on the show act the way cosmopolitan young adults are supposed to act.

 

 

 





The allure of international brands

The Winnipeg Free Press reported today that Marshalls, an American retail store that specializes in clothing, will be opening its first Winnipeg store sometime next year.

This probably would not make headlines in the United States.  But whenever a store from another country expands into Canada, people take notice.  Famous Dave's, Target, Best Buy, Forever 21, and Victoria's Secret all got considerable media attention when they expanded into Winnipeg.  So did Walmart when it purchased Woolco back in the early 1990s.

Remember Woolco?

(source: saclifeforce.com)

Sure, Americans are brand-savvy.  But because there are so many brands in the United States, many chains simply fade into the background.  If Target or Walmart opens up in a small city, it really is no big deal.  But in Canada, it is a big deal.  American chains are always at the forefront of Canadian consumer consciousness.  People line up for blocks when this new, exciting store opens.

But why is it such a big deal? Why do international brands garner so much attention in Canada? 

Because in this country, there seems to be a collective sense of feeling small.  As Canadians, we value our independence, but we admit that our influence on the world stage pales in comparison to that of the United States.  We are attracted to American brands because the influence of American culture is strong enough to "suck" us in.  But we are also attracted to American brands because, in many ways, we value being connected to the rest of the world.  Culture is now globalized, and so is our shopping mentality.  

In matters like politics, Canadians may resist the influence of the United States.  But consumer culture transcends political barriers and divisions.  We also marvel at brands from other countries.  IKEA (Sweden) is now the talk of the town in Winnipeg, and many of us also drive Japanese cars.  

What we are witnessing is not the Americanization of our culture and identity.  What we are witnessing instead is the breaking down of cultural barriers. 





Everywhere Is A Foreign Country

I only started going to socials and get-togethers this year (most of them are related to Creative Communications).  After years of not going to such events, I wanted to get out and experience what others had been doing for so many years.

This may sound ridiculous to some, but when I went to the Creative Communications Marker Social this September, I felt like I was in a foreign country, and I am not kidding about that.  I am not usually the kind of person you will find around strobe lights and DJs.  My concept of leisure has always been a trip to the buffet, casino, bookstore, library, public pool, and movie theatre; I have stayed away from bars a great deal.

It should not surprise you, then, that I was viewing the world through the eyes of a child when I was at the Marker Social.  Actually, I would describe it as an out-of-body experience.  I was dancing along with many other people, but in some respect, I didn't feel like I was "there".

What I learned from that experience is this: if you give your money and devote your time to the same old institutions, you create a world for yourself.  Once you go to other institutions like bars and nightclubs, the world you create becomes more complex, more complicated.

I will argue there are two kinds of worlds: the world you experience and the world as is.  The food you eat and the places you go to help create the former.  If tastes can change and if interests can change, then your world can change as well.  Seeing things from a different perspective helps create that world, and it is up to you to keep it as is or tear it down and start from scratch.

"Mind Control"

Today, in a conversation with several of my classmates in the Red River College Creative Communications program, I talked about people who advocate the use of marijuana, LSD, and related drugs.

Many advocates of mind-altering drugs will tell non-users that drugs like LSD act as gateway.  These particular advocates argue that if you do not use drugs, you are a victim of corporate mind control.  If you don't use drugs, the advocates say, you will never learn to think for yourself.

So said the folks who bought every word that Timothy Leary preached.  They denounced capitalism yet had no trouble giving their dollars to buy Dr. Leary's books or his spoken-word albums.  

Timothy Leary and the counterculture he led had much in common with the corporations they denounced: they had a message to sell.  "Tune in, turn on, drop out" was the anthem of counter-culture druggies.  The same druggies who criticized "corporate mind control" were taking drugs that controlled their own minds.  A case of pot calling the kettle black.

I think there's a fundamental difference between 'mind control' and buying into a message.  It is always possible to buy into a message while disagreeing with certain aspects of that message, and in no way can a person call that "mind control".  'Mind control' implies that a person has no agency.  Consumerism impacts us, but it does not control us.  If a person can simply stop listening to a message, that person has agency.  If your mind is under total control, you cannot avoid the message.  Our modern society just makes it hard to avoid consumerist messages.  But if people have the option to avoid, then they are free.

It is not the consumer who is under mind control.  It is the addict, the junkie, the Dionysian.  When the addiction takes hold, it is impossible to take different routes.  The addict cannot think for his or herself.  A person who cannot think will always accuse others of not thinking.  The gambling addict, alcohol addict, and shopping addict are all the same.  The messages they accept are not to blame.  The addicts only have themselves to blame.

Digital Romanticism: A Destruction of the English Language

 

(source: matrixfour.com)

 

 

 

 

The image above is a telling symbol of the state of the English language today.  It tells us how technology has circumvented our nerves and brains.

 

 

The new English language is more brief than the sentences I type.  LMFAO, LOL, OMG, ROFL -- three and four letter words violating all syntax yet making sense to newer beings.  When you look at the image above, you are witnessing a force with greater repercussions than a vicious block of wind.  You are witnessing the creation of a communicating line.  You are seeing the words all will only understand within a few decades.

 

 

The computer has replaced the book, and the meme is the monarch that rules over the language-impoverished land.  For many, it's easier to remember five letters than fifty-five sentences.  They were raised by machines, and thus, their brains act like machines, each technical execution committed five seconds after the prior. 

 

 

In the end, the acronym is pleasure, but it numbs us in midst of lethality.  

 



Give In to Hedonism: What I Learned from Last Saturday's Bomber Game

When I was at the Winnipeg Blue Bombers game last Saturday, my stomach rumbled as I walked around the stadium.  The smell of grilled meat, fries, and mini donuts was unavoidable. 

The price of food at a football game is astronomical.  At the Salisbury House stand, a Salsbury Nip cost almost $5.00.  Drinks alone cost $4.00.  You would think those prices would turn people away from the stands.  Instead, people were lining up to get their quick fix, and I was one of them.

A brilliant way to make money is to overwhelm the senses.  In this case, it's the sense of smell.  Normally, we are supposed to think, not feel in these situations, as we are supposed to watch our wallets.  But we give in to temptation anyway and let our pocketbooks take a bruising.

I gave into temptation and spent almost $7.00 on a bag of fries and a small cup of coffee.  I did because I lost control.  The smells challenged all reason, and the smells prevailed.  I became a few dollars poorer, but I didn't care because my stomach stopped screaming.

Human beings let their hedonistic desires go wild whenever their senses are appealed to.  Our hedonistic pursuit makes it very easy for eateries to draw us in and empty our wallets.  The food is expensive, but so be it, we need to satsify each and every craving.

Some have called such business practices immoral, but I disagree.  If we are to call the practice of selling food at football games immoral, we might as well call Hallmark cards immoral -- food tugs at our stomachs, and sappy poetry tugs at our hearts.  To be emotional is to be human, and our modern economy thrives on all that makes us human. 

It is easy for a human being to lose the sense of equlibrium and batter his or herself financially to please all senses.  Not all human beings, however, are like this.  It is important to remember that an institution's job is not to tame addiction.  An institution's job is to make money.  Institutions make money by knowing what is human.

I See, Therefore I Vote.

 

(source: cbsnews.com)

 

 

Politicians are walking advertisements.  They sell "big ideas" and persuade people to vote, and they don't even have to sell ideas.  All they really have to sell are appearences and sounds.  Thus, politicans are really living, breathing brands who make their mark with voices and body language.

 

 

When everyone talked about Barack Obama's now infamous debate performance against Republican hopeful Mitt Romney, they commented on his body language.  In this CBS News clip, commentators discuss how body language makes a person look presidential.  The general consensus was that Obama did not look presidential.  He kept looking down at this podium instead of addressing Mitt Romney directly. 

 

 

Obama disappointed not only his small-l liberal supporters but also moderates and independents.  Obama wowed the latter two in the 2008 presidential election with his strong command of the spoken word.  In front of the world on that debate stage, Obama looked like a shell of his former self.  All it took was one debate to shift the momentum back into Romney's direction.

 

 

Obama probably would have walked away with minimal damage had the economic recovery been stronger.  But because the American economy was (and is) still in a pitiful state, Obama had to defend his record.  By giving a poor debate performance, he came across as a person who could not defend his record at all.

 

 

The greatest irony, though, is that in this consumer era, an incumbent politician does not need to defend his or her record as much as in the past.  All a politician needs to do is creative a narrative that people can run with.  The narrative does not even have to be strong, for if the opposing candidate is weak, the narrative can look strong by comparison. 

 

 

Some say that people today vote with their hearts, not their heads.  I disagree.  Rather, I think people vote with their eyes and ears.  The image of the politician is the message, and the message does not have to be true.  Instead, it just has to be appealing.

 

 

It has also been said that people want to vote for the candidate they would like to have a beer with.  But I also believe that voters want a candidate that represents their best qualities.  Richard Nixon appealed to blue-collar workers yet alienated many other voting blocs in the process.  His message of law and order resonated with many voters, but many could not accept the message of a man with a stern voice and drooping jowls.  No one wants to see their inner demon in the mirror, and to many, Nixon was their inner demon.

 

 

Many voters flocked to Barack Obama  because they saw their best qualities within him.  People like hope, and people like a candidate who propigates the message of hope.  Four years later, they see a man who is wrinklier, crankier, and vastly more arrogant at least on television.  Even if Barack Obama is not a failure, he looks like a failure on television.  Voters hate failure in government, and even if they have lost faith in their candidates, they still demand a message that resonates.  Barack Obama has a message that may resonate with economists and policy wonks, but he doesn't have a message that resonates with the ordinary voter.  Raw data is useless to the eyes in today's political era.  Voters want a good salesman, not just an economist.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

Veganism: A Case of the Ego Power Trip

Many people like to boast about their healthy eating habits.  In a country where the obesity rate continues to climb, it's hard not to. 

Healthy eating and active living are golden eggs for vegan-based restaurants like Boon Burger Cafe.  Veganism seems to be catching on in urban centres.

I believe that institutions like these sell the idea that a healthier lifestyle is akin to some kind of individual exceptionalism.  A prolonged lifestyle, of course, does not say anything about a person's "uniqueness", yet many people accept the message that by not eating animals, they will be canonized. 

People often use accomplishment to boost ego.  Yet our definitions of what constitutes 'accomplishment' have changed greatly over decades.  The young adults of today are led to believe that a lifestyle is in itself an accomplishment.  That myth will perpetuate for many years.

There is nothing exceptional about veganism, but many believe it is.  As a result, there are dangerous repercussions.  PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) plans to erect billboards near public in schools in Canada condemning Thanksgiving.  Their message is clear: eating turkey for Thanksgiving is the same thing as eating your Jack Russell terrier. 

I think PETA speaks volumes about modern rebellion.  In previous days, rebellion was all about challenging authority.  Today, rebellion groups like PETA seek to impose a new authority.  PETA's utopia is a world where every single meat packing facility is closed, every slaughterhouse is demolished, and every meat-based farm is seized.  It is ego that fuels the cause of PETA.

Our perceptions of what constitutes an 'ego' are changing, and many now see 'ego' as a way to impose a power structure.  If you do not think PETA is influential, think again.  The New Democratic Party of Canada, Green Party of Canada, and the Liberal Party of Canada have many members who are either vegetarian or vegan.  Vegans influence the policies of these political parties, and the dairy farmers, beef farmers, fishermen, and meat packers all pay the steepest price when PETA-influenced policy gets implemented to the fullest extent.

If a person who is oppressed believes that he is exceptional, he will become the oppressor.  The same rings true for those who call themselves 'animal liberationists'.

The Winnipeg Jets: Symbols of Vanished Reason and Morality

(source: cbc.ca)

When the Winnipeg Jets returned in the fall of 2011, I did not know whether I living was in Winnipeg or in Communist Russia.  That big, dominating Jets logo was as omnipresent as the hammer and sickle displayed at any pro-Communist rally.

I literally could not walk a distance of five metres without seeing that logo.  If I did not see it plastered onto the bumper of a car, I could certainly see it on a cap or shirt.  I saw it stitched to men and women, elderly and newborns, whites and blacks and Filipinos.  I saw Winnipeg Jets flags hanging down from trees and apartment balconies, towers of glass, and the ledges of homes -- inescapable colours and patterns.  I was not draped in those colours, but my mind certainly was.

The logo is one of identity, and identity means power.  Identity lets people define surrounding areas.  To many living in Winnipeg, the Winnipeg Jets logo represents the city itself.

Many stand in awe at the sight of professional athletes.  But it is not the athletes that wow us.  Instead, we wow ourselves.  When the Jets lose, many in Winnipeg get the collective sense that they lose.

I cannot simply say that mass celebration of victory is an ethos of living vicariously through professional sport.  Rather, mass celebration represents a collective self-affirmation.  There is a sense of defeatism among many who live in Winnipeg, and anytime a professional sports team wins a game, many get the sense that not all is lost. 

And by 'defeatism', I mean the collective sense that morality and justice are things of the past.  Having read the news over the past few years, I cannot blame those who feel this way.  Who can honestly be proud to live in a city where a man tortures and rapes his daughters over a span of seven years? 

Who can honestly feel that the forces of good prevail over the forces of evil when Richard Dow gets a mere 16-month sentence and credit for time served?

Who can conclude that reason is winning over sheer absurdity when Darrell Ackman, a man facing serious child pornography charges, gets enough signatures to run as a candidate in the Fort Whyte by-election?

When morals are gone, the symbol prevails.  In a way, the collective symbol dies when many feel that morals are regained.  The symbol of the New York Yankees is a good example.  In the 1970s, as crime, looting, prostitution, and bankruptcy ravaged 'Fear City', New Yorkers everywhere cheered for the Yankees.  The Yankees were the only thing New Yorkers could root for and talk about.  When crime went down, people were talking about things other than the Yankees. 

It is the symbol that obscures the darkness of identity.  When darkness is obscured, all will believe the myth of divine exceptionalism.  For those who believe the myth, I would suggest reading this great column by Bartley Kives. 

The following passage by Kives captures my feelings appropriately:

 

                               I've long argued the civic despair in the mid-1990s was not just about the 
                               loss of the Jets, but a vestigial sense of entitlement displayed by a city that
                               never quite got used to fact it wasn't important any more.  Many times then,
                               I've argued Winnipeg must get over itself and finally grow comfortable
                               within medium-sized, ordinary-city skin.

                               And now that the Jets are back, I wonder whether this will ever happen.  I
                               wonder whether the jingoism of the "True North!" chant has subsumed our
                               collective capacity for self-reflection. (source: winnipegfreepress.com)


The collective wearing of a brand requires no mental effort.  It is all about emotion, not logic.  In a city like this, one can get sick from thinking because the problems can be complicated.  Ultimately, there is a desire to wear something powerful in the wake of collective failure to right wrongs.  We decry our justice system yet elect politicians who appoint the same old group of judges.  We decry our civic infrastructure yet vote for the same people who vow to do nothing about it. 

The problems, of course, become more complicated, more convoluted.  But the mere presence of the Winnipeg Jets allows everyone to forget absurdity a little more easily.  The logo of the Jets is the Cross, and the MTS Centre is the Holy Temple.  Everyone will wear a Jets logo and go to a hockey game to cleanse their interior remorse.  Nothing is cleansed, but the fabrication is good enough for just a little satisfaction. 



Worship the iPhone

(source: infoline.com.pk)

According to this CNN article, people are posting offers on craigslist to stand in line for the new iPhone.  In previous times, people stood in line to watch religious and political figures.  Now people stand in line for gadgets.  

We live in secular times, apolitical times, postmodern times.  Piety and ideology no longer define our society. Technology does instead.

Redefining 'Hipster'

As you all may know, my CreComm buddy Jacob has a blog called Jacob Defends Hipsters.  It's an interesting read, and it inspired this blog post.

Jacob's blog is interesting because it got me thinking of the exact definition of the word 'hipster'.  Today, people use it to describe the D.I.Y., American Apparel-esque subculture that emerged throughout the 2000s.  Yet it seems strange that people would apply the word 'hipster' to a subculture.  To me, 'hipster' in the original sense is someone who is overly concerned with being 'cool'.

In the 1940s, 'hipster' meant something else.  In 1948, Anatole Broyard published this essay on hipsterdom in the '40s.  Broyard painted the picture of a 'hipster' as someone obsessed with jazz culture.

The following passage from Broyard is particularly interesting:

                                    Jive music and tea were the two most important components of the

                                    hipster's life. Music was not, as has often been supposed, a stimulus to  

                                    dancing. For the hipster rarely danced; he was beyond the reach of         

                                    stimuli. If he did dance, it was half parody—"second removism"—and 

                                    he danced only to the off-beat, in a morganatic one to two ratio with 

                                    the music. (source)

'Jive music' isn't exactly the kind of music that comes to mind when I think about hipsters and hipster subculture today.  For the longest time, I always thought 'hipsters' only listened to bands like Radiohead, The Shins, Spoon, and anything that Pitchfork Media praised.  But cultural definitions are changing, and thus, my judgments are entirely based on what I read on the Internet.  How would I define what a hipster was if I didn't visit this famous blog? 

But it's important to remember that you can't spell 'hipster' without 'hip'.  Yet to understand the word 'hipster', we need to know what is 'hip', and in what context do you define what is 'hip'? Do you define individualism as being 'hip' or being part of a subculture as being 'hip'? Ifwe  think of 'hip' of being the former, I can consider myself to be a hipster.  I've ventured into the thickest canyons of music web sites like rateyourmusic.com to find some of the most obscure music possible, and I don't identify with any kind of clothing brand.

I will argue, though, that the only thing 'individual' about a person is the way he or she experiences things. Tastes in music, movies, books, and television do not make us 'individuals'.  One can discover the most obscure music possible, but at the end of the day, at least five other people will be listening to it.  Subconsciously, I am part of a sub-culture.  I just don't have a membership card.

The concept of 'individualism' is not without virtue, but when 'individualism' becomes a label for people to assign themselves to, there are repercussions.  In trying to be 'individuals', we dull worldly experience.  The effort of trying to fit into such a box equals a miserable life, and at the end of the day, a person only declares him or herself to be 'individual'  by rejecting what a consumer culture defines as the opposite. 

The power of the supermarket is to create and reinforce dichotomies and labels.  Individualism vs. collectivism.  Hipster vs. square.  As consumers, we make the effort to trash conformity and embrace individualism.  But the very act of ascribing to the label of 'individualism' is just as conservative as conforming because every person on this earth engages in the practice of 'self-labeling'.  And by rejecting the act of labeling, I am labeling myself as someone who does not label.

You just can't beat them in the end.  Uniqueness is a dead thing when you reduce such a concept to mere molecules and atoms.

Pop Music: A Short-Term Memory

I'm sure everyone has already forgotten about this song:

 

 

Or this one:

 

 



 

 

Or this one:

 

 



 

 

Eventually, everyone will forget about this song, too:

 

 

 

 

 

With YouTube at its peak of dominance, we are witnessing a trend in popular music: no more songs that remain within memory.  Today, your typical pop song will really catch fire and stay on top of the charts for a few months.  Then it gets erased from memory as the next big song rises to the top of the charts.

 

There are exceptions to this rule, but there was a time where popular music, quality notwithstanding, stayed in peoples' heads for years, not mere months.  Pop music has always been quite disposable, but YouTube, iPods, and MP3s have made it even more disposable. 

 

Music is not dead as an artform, but as a business, it has changed rapidly in the Digital Age.  The music business is about selling emotions as style, and because it is easier to market style over substance, something that is emotionally resonant (not in a literal sense, of course) will shoot to the top of the charts.  But what we define as "resonance" has also changed rapidly.  Viral videos and technology have made the world more complicated, and perhaps we don't really know what we feel. 

 

Every generation bears a set of cultural markers.  For the YouTube generation, the one-hit-wonder is a cultural marker.  Pop music burns away quickly, and that speaks volumes about the fragmented consumer culture.

 

Yet there is something I do find fascinating: in an era where it is so easy to find new music, people still seem to wait for music to come to them.  Maybe today's youth are waiting for something to truly wow them.  Maybe people in general are waiting for something to flip the culture of music upside down.  But fragmented audiences and tastes mean it is unlikely we'll ever witness a major cultural shift. 

 

Or perhaps I'll be proven wrong.

 

 

 

 



 

 



Reality Is Meaningless in the Age of Reality

As everyone knows, NBC became the magnet of controversy when it decided to air an interview with Kris Jenner instead of a moment of silence dedicated to the 9/11 attacks.

Jenner is the mother of reality T.V. star Kim Kardashian.  In just a few decades, more will probably remember who Kim Kardashian was than Osama Bin Laden or anyone directly associated with 9/11.

Television rarely captures events so raw, and the September 11th attacks were the exception to that rule.  As ugly as those attacks were, the images of that day are incredibly endearing.  But that was a time where reality television was in its infancy.  Today, there are many more reality television shows to watch and many more cable channels to watch.  Images do not endear as long, and if images do not endear as long, neither does history.  Since reality is history in motion, we are moving into a pseudo-reality.  Objectively, the world as it stands never begins and ends in seconds or minutes.  But to the subjective mind, everything starts anew.

The 500-channel universe helped create that subjective mind.

A Las Vegas Epiphany

Source: FreeFoto.com

I'm in a stream of consciousness mode today.  I think one needs to be when talking about the mental imprint of Las Vegas consumerism.

People go to Las Vegas to assume the roles of giants, and if you're from Manitoba, it's wholly relevant, as many can't even locate Winnipeg on a map.  You get in that airplane seat and let your muscles liberate themselves as all Prairie cold exits your psyche and descends into that former wasteland.  

In the grasp of my leather seat, I saw the same reflection in the nearest window.  In the clouds, I stared at iron gates.  As all objects, dwellings, and beings below shrank to the level of fleas, my fingers seemed to grow bigger and more dominant.  The moment of highest levitation can be god-like, and in that god-like trance, I was all those towering things: a king at the peak of his yacht, a dictator on the podium with his devotees seated below.

But this master narrative vanished as I stepped outside the gates of the airport.

And then the realization began as I watched, from the window of the car, the pixie veneer of the Las Vegas Strip morph into a pulsating, blinking, bulbous of a mass waving its mechanical arms and legs for my full attention.  I tilted my head up to those electrical landmarks as an ant does to the peak of the topsoil.  From point to point, all the brands bore the presence of statues: Walgreens, Harley Davidson, the Hard Rock Cafe, everything else.  I was below, not above that man-made forest.  The flesh and smiles of all became irrelevant.

Evening was when the power really took effect.

All of the casinos and their respective signs engulfed and swallowed those who passed by.  Bodies became silhouettes.  The self-described "movers and shakers" looked more like molecules as the trance effect of blinking slogans propelled their girth towards gold-encrusted entrances.  Every sign had a purpose: to cast a pall over any who claimed dominance.  To lure them into a trap of built-up body fat, hollowed wallets, and deranged drunkenness.

The lotus of The Flamingo was a nucleus attracting smaller specimen.

The beacons emitting from the crest of Luxor became the focus of every driver.

When everyone either stopped to take the occasional picture or stand for the occasional glimpse, all faces became anonymous, cloaked -- every light erasing every identity.

The people and the lights were one.

Except the lights bore the power.  They merged into the last flood of the century washing out every city -- all lands and all faces were in a time-lapse state of total erosion.  It was just parallel energy regurgitating itself.

In this peak age of commercialism, humankind's creations have become bigger than humankind itself.  We were once larger than our methods of transportation and habitat, and now those very things run us.  The world became bigger, and we became smaller. This is the age of disconnection, and in the age of disconnection, all facets of consumerism rule over and whip the mind.  No person can ever claim to be mobile, for the car, the airplane, and the casinos all run us; we do not run them.  We only think we do because of the false sense of agency advertising has given us.  Every advertising sign is not an invitation.  Every sign is, in a way, a mockery of the human body, for in Las Vegas, people migrate like flies from casino to casino, and in no way can one call an attraction to things "agency" or "independence".

And thus I say goodbye to the mythical era of giants.



   

The Kitchen Sink Day-Spa Experience

source:  epinions.com

We can't simply do dishes anymore.

Because in this technological era, even the most minuscule labour is all but tedious to many, and dishwashing is no exception.  Thus, all of us demand excitement out of our products, especially the ones that go unnoticed.

The rule of today: everything must be an experience.  The fragmented world leads everyone to believe so, as one immediately notices that almost every new product is designed to grab our shrinking attention: sleeved blankets, living room recliners that massage, ultra high-definition televisions....

So it doesn't surprise me to see that society's constant demand for the sublime is affecting the household cleaner market.  Colgate-Palmolive Canada Inc. has taken advantage of such demand with its newest line of Palmolive dish soaps.

A good example is the Ultra Palmolive Aroma Sensations dishwashing liquid.  When I looked at the description of the product, one particular passage caught my eye: 

                             Sometimes a good smell can make all the difference when you are doing a

                             household chore.  It can perk you up, relax you, or even cause you to start

                             singing. (source: colgate.ca)

Washing dishes is supposed to be a meaningless task.  Yet in the zenith of the Industrial Revolution, humankind has developed a need for comfort anytime, anywhere.  Clothes must be of comfort, cars must be of comfort, and washing dishes must be of comfort.  Comfort is western society's most treasured fetish.  Western society today is truly an enigma: the more innovative its inventions, the more vulnerable its citizens become.

We'll soon be demanding comfort everywhere, even while shoveling manure.

                                   

Introduction

Consumerism is the most telling thing about an entire civilization.

We are told that people buy things for either want or need, but we are never told about how the things we buy end up dictating our lives.  Instead, we just insert those debit cards and move on to the next foray.

But what we buy impacts our consciousness.  Society's as well, for it can be said that human consciousness is a collective one.  What we purchase impacts our rationalities, judgements, and emotions, and we thus defy all societal definitions.  This collective act of defiance will have repercussions for all that is traditional, virtuous or not.  Ultimately, we will re-write the rules for consumerism and for future civilizations as a whole.

I have created this blog as a means of trying to make meaning.  What do brand products say about society's mental state? What do they mean for the future? And, most importantly, what do they say about what it means to be human today?

I want to know.  Maybe you as well.