This ad has been annoying me for weeks. It’s not even for anything specific, unless you count “enrolling at DePaul” as specific. In my imagination, it’s clearly for an MBA program or some kind of professional degree, because that’s all you can draw from the stupid picture. Herewith, the inaugural specie of Shambolic Advertising Criticism Tuesdays here at Banana Nutriment.
1) Why is he making that face? Does indispensability have physical side effects I’m not being told about?
2) Is he in charge of keeping people off that balcony? Is that his role?
3) Who would see this ad and say, yes, THAT’S IT. NOW I KNOW WHAT MY SHIT WAS MISSING. SHITTY MODERN-CUT SUITS, HAIR GELS AND BALCONIES. AND HAZE. AND NO MORE OF THOSE TIRESOME, “THE MAN” NECKTIES.
why this ad bothers me, short version: because it’s advertising a lifestyle choice that’s crucial to your identity and role in life vis-a-vis the kind of clothing you get to wear and the kind of contented, sour face you get to make. this might fly for like, the marines or the colonial fleet, but it’s weird. when i put on the plastic crown of neofeudalism and stew on this, i start to resent this ad for even implying people should expect a choice as to how their life goes, but in a more modern, um, less implausible approach, i resent this ad for pointing up, even tacitly, that the reason people choose the careers they choose is not because they might enjoy the work or its results but that they cherish the power trip the work might represent. i guess it’s just a different kind of power trip to hope to be able to sleep at night without twitching or dosing yourself.
I am wont to get shit in my teeth and just tug until the rope toy breaks or people get tired of tugging back (or hugging back, nahmean) but this seems like a spot of socioromantic cleavage that’s really worth dropping an ice cream cone into. This ad effortlessly personifies many things that I associate with the death of the individual and the ritual group-forgetting of um, well, liberal thought. There’s probably some kind of deep-thought disassociative thing here about how we read shapes instead of words but let’s table (read: ignore forever) that for now (ever). What the fuck is a degree in business? Of course, the question comes begging, what the fuck is a degree in anything. But god damn, how can you be interested in “business”? Maybe from an evolutionary psych perspective these wankers are actually more fit to live than me, since their self-determined thing is getting paper by whatever retarded job description they have to answer to, while mine is apparently the more elusive “try to feel good about your life.” whatever whatever. i will be over here working on recondite manuscripts and loathing my fellow man.
final reading question
1) is it better to know what you want and fail to get it or just to get something?