SAINTS PRESERVE US
Gimme Some Truth
I wasn’t quite myself. I was feeling insecure and inadequate. So I bought some hyper-masculine body wash and cologne named for a primitive weapon. I bought a case of supposedly premium beer in aluminum bottles that would change colour as they chilled to perfection refreshment. I put them in the trunk of my car, a vehicle whose brand and sleek lines affirm my personal values and goal-achieving aspirations. I drove south into the badlands of Alberta intent upon picking up a pair of hitchhikers, gorgeous bi-sexual twin sisters who believe taboos are ink on skin.
It could happen.
The premise of advertising is subjective third party information with an implicit potential promise attached. It’s a lot like evangelical faith, buy in and nothing is impossible. But when the message tilts from supply and demand, from avarice and acquisition into the ethereal world of branding and emotional response, the twist from purchasing to pseudo-philanthropy can be more awkward than high school students at a mixer.
My friends in the LGBTQ community quickly realized that marketers’ pride rainbows weren’t so much about social change as spare change – as they’re a very attractive double-income-no-kids demographic. And now we’re in the middle of this pandemic pivot. The advertising messages I’m receiving are saccharine and disingenuous: hashtag (insert proper noun) Strong and ‘We’re all in this together.’ Maybe to some extent we are as family members, relatives, friends and neighbours earn their salaries from corporations whose primary function is to reward their shareholders at the expense of humanity in general.
When a communications provider declares from its wifi heart that it’s more important than ever to connect with the ones you love, well, there’s probably a new plan for that and a penalty fee for altering your current contract. Your benevolent bank says it’s okay to skip a mortgage payment while neglecting to mention the small print, the actual future cost. But they mean well because, you know, we’re all in this together. Kumbaya.
Consumers are encouraged to rise to the bait of cause marketing. An international fast food corporation is currently promising a token donation to a local food bank for every delivery order. The ultimate feel-good hook; yet if any of the parties involved in the sandwich transaction really cared, they’d just support their food banks anyway without a calculated commercial enticement spun as a novel topping. Pickles and charity.
The only advertising pandemic parallel I can draw upon is Earth Day; that day this week in April when the world’s great brands and greatest polluters pull together for a few hours to pay homage to the planet their emissions poison and their packaging litters while attempting to goose the positive perceptions of their loyal customers. ‘There is a molecule of organic matter in your plastic bottle of tap water! Live, love, floss and don’t forget to breathe!’ Well, can’t they all just fuck off with their big and little lies?
What I crave now is an honest, salty snack food company. ‘Home alone watching TV in the dark? Our chips are gluten free and contain zero trans fats, whatever they were but they tasted good. Anyway, our chips now taste better than ever! Munch through a bag or two tonight! Munch through a bag or two every night! Please! We’ll make more! We’ve got your back! We’re all in this together!’ I’d buy in to that message though wary of its source.
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