Yesterday I was pointed toward this wonderful essay at Postcards from the Bleeding Edge on the pervasiveness of branding in everyday life. The gist of it is that the author cannot string two thoughts together due to the overwhelming presence and distraction of seeing logos and marketing messages everywhere: kitchen, bathroom, pantry, closet, etc. He ends up trashing stuff he doesn't use and covering the rest with post-it notes and attains some measure of serenity.
Excellent essay. Go read it; I'll wait.
All done? Cool! I was inspired, I was. Not to actually cover all my stuff in post-its, since bright yellow has a similar effect on my attitude. I briefly considered getting a razor blade and screwdriver and start hacking and prying, but felt that this would not go over well with Nola. But at the least to once again attack the little microsoft and intel stickers which the makers of my work laptop were legally compelled to affix to its keyboard. These have annoyed me for two years now, and every little while I would notice them afresh and pick away at a corner, but Legally Compelled Glue is a mighty thing and resisted my efforts so far.
Under the influence of mtaht's example, however, I renewed my attack and this time, o joy, was successful on both counts.
It's a noisy world, the one most of us live in. Often we don't realize just how much noise is abrading our senses unless we can find time to get out of the city and head for the backcountry, where all we have to deal with are the logos stitched onto our packs, tents, hiking boots, polypro, sleeping bags... The competition for our attention is as fierce and unrelenting and uncaring as that of a virus attack. Corporations spend a huge amount of time and effort and money on imbedding their logos into our subconcious, in the apparently borne out belief that this puts money in their pockets. They will not stop, cannot stop, of their own volition. Should one try, it would then feel itself compelled to annouce it, in bright, trendy colours.
I was thinking about all this last night, after having tossed the trash containing the two stickers, and about the MT and Mac OSX buttons I have in my sideboard (I'm sure the cognoscenti call that something else, but I just can't think what) right here, and there must just be a mass of people murmuring about their world being overrun with logos, because this morning I got an email with a link to Unbrand America. (if you remove the "spot.html" part of that url, you get to see their flash intro. up to you.)
Everybody, stock up on those black Magic Markers™!
4 Comments
Guess you need to read the new book by William Gibson, then, about the “cool scout” who is hired by marketing companies because she is literally allergic to brands and logos.
It’s called “Pattern Recognition,” (http://www.williamgibsonbooks.com/books/books.asp)and it is set in the present day, but much of it takes place on the Internet. I liked it OK. He’s no Neal Stephenson when it comes to deep profundities, but there you go.
He’s also keeping a blog. Dunno about it, since it is on Blogger, tho. Can see it at http://www.williamgibsonbooks.com/blog/blog.asp
Miasma
It appears to have been designed by a firm and organized by a research assistant. Very slick look. :)
I think I’ll pass on the book, though. Not that I think Gibson’s lousy, but I never feel “right” after reading his stuff.
Well, I don’t know that he is on a real faculty somewhere, but I’d say dead on with the observation that it was designed (and branded?) by a research assistant.
From my extensive research assistant experience (and watching colleagues get their web sites designed by research assistants), I’ve yet to meet very many profs who design their own web sites, even if they know how, or (gasp) teach classes in web design.
And I just came from an academic conference where I was on a panel on blogs. Turns out I was the only member of the panel who had actually built a blog.
Miasma
You were the ONLY ONE?? Shit, what’d the rest of ‘em do, learn where the on/off button is and write papers? I can see them now, Turning to the Internet: My Finger’s On the Button