I actually remember watching this moment in a motel room during the summer and thinking the whole set-up was "pretty lame", even by my gullible, young, teenaged standards. It was like that scene on "The Beavis & Butthead Experience" CD when the lads are wandering around behind the fairgrounds, knock on the trailer and ask "Huh, huh huh. Is there like, anybody cool in there?", and the answer-- regrettably-- is "no". Now that I have a far greater sense of how and why MTV and the youth culture machine works, much less how media is served up on a plate, I can look back at it and laugh.

For instance-- what are all these rock stars doing here in the middle of this softball field? Why are all these banners for "Snickers Bars" and "Blockbuster Video" hanging everywhere? Who sent this camera crew, and all these attractive, blonde 25 year-old bimbos who look vaguely like they're from "Anywhere, USA" but look **BEYOND AVERAGE** to the point of sexed-up desirability? Why did they show only **clips** from the game instead of going the whole 9 innings? Who is the master of this marketing universe?

Remember kids, "tear down the state" with your parents' credit cards but don't think of storming MTV's corporate offices because you will be shot by Blackwater security guards! Run your infantile pirate media on a renegade swath of the communications bandwidth and be completely ignored!

-- "Will the zapping tendrils of the internet bring in a new era of human freedom & transcendent understanding?"

NO!
They'll be looking at splatter
pictures at rotten.com!

As that mid-90's internet campaign went, "Have you posted a blue ribbon for free speech today?". I have to tell you somethin'-- gotta love the low-down wretchedness of man. . . . .

And woman, for that matter. . . . .
(but what did you expect from the times?!)

They surely can't compete with the glory of this!

But you got to remember when we did have more of "a national narrative" and how meaningless it seems, looking back! This, before we shattered into a million pieces of competing market-shares. . . . . fighting harder and harder for the same shrinking dollar. We now have 1000 choices, but each is reaching for the lowest common-denominator dumb-ass!! Isn't progress wonderful?!

Where does that put the average man "trying to make it"?

(Countdown to Extinction)

Oh, well.

*******************

"You want a-nuther song? Well I ain't plain' one mutherfuckin' note until someone comes up here and puts sum money in my god-damned tip-jar! You know I only came here for one purpose. . . . . to take yor fuckin' cash! Why, I could make more profit puttin' out my meth-head neighbor's asshole and ringin' a bell, hollerin' 'Man for sale! Man for sale!'

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

(Rheeee of Crickets)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

("I heard that, Missy!")

© 2010 by Insufferable Industries

Drop "The Bard" a line at
michaeladams_s@yahoo.com

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