The Advertising Winds Still Blow

Thought for the day:  Do advertisements reflect society realistically, or do they merely attempt to manipulate our perception of it?

Subliminal messages may be taboo in today's advertising, but that doesn't mean commercials aren't designed to manipulate our thinking. After all, it's their job to convince us that our lives would be better if we buy whatever product it is they're trying to sell.

I saw a subliminal advertising executive, but only for a second. [Steven Wright]

Let's hope society wasn't as blatantly sexist... and clueless... as it comes across in these ads from the '40s and '50s.  We looked at some a couple weeks ago... today, we're gonna check out the rest. Once again, thanks to my brother for sending them to me.

Ready?

Some of you might be experiencing a little agitation of your own after looking at some of those ads, but you know I can't send you away in that kinda state. We've gotta end with a chuckle. So, how about a couple commercials with a funny side? You don't have to understand the language to get the point in the first one. Um, if the second one offends anyone, let me apologize in advance. Sorry! (giggle)

Some of you dropped in to visit with Dianne Salerni and me at her blog yesterday, and I thank you for that, but if you (gasp!) missed her interview with me about Hot Flashes and Cold Lemonade... we're still there! Come say hello. There's still a piece or two of chocolate rum cake left, but you'd better hurry. Chocolate cake is never allowed to sit around long enough to get stale. It's a rule. Um, I think we'll skip the tea. For some reason,  I'm simply not in the mood for a cup...

                                 Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

Big Sale. Last Week. Why advertise? I already missed it. They're just rubbing it in. [Yakov Smirnoff]

Let There Be Light

Thought for the day: Every day is as important as an anniversary, birthday, or holiday. To be cherished on any given day is more important to me than being lavished with gifts and good wishes simply because the calendar dictates it.  

hope in the ruins

Yes, I know yesterday was the tenth anniversary. Many of you blogged about your recollections of that awful day, what it still means to you, and I respect y'all for doing that. But I can't. I can't allow myself to dwell on the horrors of that day. I can't let myself feel that much bleakness again.

Yes, of course, I remember, and I grieve. Not to acknowledge the date at all would have been tantamount to ignoring the polka dotted elephant in the room. Yes, it's there. But I'm not gonna talk to him. Not today. Maybe not ever.

 I prefer to concentrate on the flowers growing in the midst of the rubble, not on the devastation that created it.  I'd rather talk about hope, the light that helps us make it through the darkness.

                So, let's pull our asses out of the doldrums and do just that.

Up and at 'em!

                                                        Song of Hope     by Thomas Hardy

                                                      O sweet To-morrow! - 

                                                      After to-day 

                                                      There will away 

                                                      This sense of sorrow. 

                                                      Then let us borrow 

                                                      Hope, for a gleaming 

                                                      Soon will be streaming, 

                                                      Dimmed by no gray - 

                                                      No gray! 

                                                     While the winds wing us 

                                                     Sighs from The Gone, 

                                                     Nearer to dawn 

                                                     Minute-beats bring us; 

                                                     When there will sing us 

                                                     Larks of a glory 

                                                     Waiting our story 

                                                     Further anon - 

                                                     Anon! 

                                                    Doff the black token, 

                                                    Don the red shoon, 

                                                    Right and retune 

                                                    Viol-strings broken; 

                                                    Null the words spoken 

                                                    In speeches of rueing, 

                                                    The night cloud is hueing, 

                                                    To-morrow shines soon - 

                                                    Shines soon! 

Hope  by Sri Chinmoy

Hope

Knows no fear.

Hope dares to blossom

Even inside the abysmal abyss.

Hope secretly feeds

And strengthens

Promise.

                                                      

     

                                                         "Hope" is the thing with feathers—

                                                          That perches in the soul—
                                                          And sings the tune without the words—
                                                          And never stops—at all—

                                                         And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
                                                         And sore must be the storm—
                                                         That could abash the little Bird
                                                         That kept so many warm—

                                                         I've heard it in the chillest land—
                                                        And on the strangest Sea—
                                                        Yet, never, in Extremity,
                                                        It asked a crumb—of Me.

                                                                                                   Emily Dickenson

Wanta feel good? Wanta cry for happy? Then check out this video. It shows an amazing reunion of two elephants. Jenny was the only elephant at the Dallas zoo for twenty years. Think she was lonely? When Jenny was a calf, and Shirley was in her twenties, the two spent a year together at a circus. They say elephants "never forget." You be the judge.

this picture, and bird pic, courtesy of perfectlytimesphotos.com

We've made it through some dark days, and we'll undoubtedly face some more in the future, but bottom line is there is ALWAYS hope.With hope, we will endure. After all, in the end, our happiness doesn't rely nearly so much on our position as it does on our disposition. Our attitude.

Consider a lawn overgrown with dandelions. We can look at it and say, "Oh, crap! Look at all those weeds!" OR we can choose to look at it through the eyes of a child, and say, "Oooh, look at all those wishes!"

Just pucker up and blow.

Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

The Name Game

Thought for the day:  It was a matter of destiny: the streaker's name was Seymour Cheeks.

Gildersleeve, Gildersleeve, wherefore art thou, Gildersleeve?

The fair Juliet declared, What's in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. Easy for her to say. Do you think she would've been half as cavalier about the irrelevance of a name if she'd been saddled with an onerous moniker like Bertha or Broomhilda? And I ask you, could even the great Shakespeare himself have waxed poetic about a damsel in distress if her name were Boobs Galore? (Sincere apologies to any readers named Bertha, Broomhilda, or Boobs.)

Gertrude Stein said, A rose is a rose is a rose, and even good ol' Popeye said, I yam what I yam. If things ARE what they ARE, does it really matter a rat's derriere what you choose to CALL them?

Well, yeah. I think so.

Would a bouquet of roses bestow the same romantic connotation if they were called ... fartflowers? Or suppose that lovely bunch of Mums your beloved gave you were called ...  Ugly Mamas?

Ahhhh ... Smell the Fartflowers!

True, the name or description of an object can't actually alter its essential substance, but it can ... and does ... alter our perception of it. Intellectually, we may adhere to the adage, "Never judge a book by its cover," but in reality, we tend to do just that.

Consider this:

You're exhausted, and judging by the crowd in the doctor's anteroom, a long wait stretches in front of you. Standing on your aching feet is not an attractive option, and there are only two empty seats in the room. One is beside a shabbily-dressed old gentleman with shaggy hair and scruffy beard, who is slumped in his chair, muttering to himself. The other is next to a clean-cut, GQ-looking young man, who looks right at you and smiles. (Or for you men, a shapely young woman with a sexy smile.) Where would you sit? Not gonna pull any made-up statistics out of my (ahem) ear, but where do you think most people would sit?

It's human nature. And understanding that tidbit of human nature puts potential power into our hot little pen-holding hands. When a writer (or speaker) understands the basic concept of perception, he can use it to his advantage and manipulate the crap out of it. 

Take the example of the waiting room. Before a writer brings that poor unsuspecting foot-sore patient into that room, suppose he fleshes out the people sitting beside those empty chairs. Suppose the shabby-looking fellow is a sweet, gentle, lonely soul who's grieving deeply for his wife, and Mr. G.Q. (or Ms. Luscious) is an evil Jeffrey Daumer wannabe. How's that going to change the reader's response when the innocent newcomer considers sitting beside the Daumer copycat?

Titles, names, and appearances DO matter. All of them evoke involuntary psychological  responses, and when we have an active awareness and anticipation of those responses, we wield some control over them through the power of our words. A great book title has the potential to attract a casual browser. Ditto a great-looking cover. Character names carry a certain weight. Names can be perceived as weak, strong, silly, or whatever. Descriptions can be used to reinforce a stereotype, or to mask something shocking and unexpected. Subtle nuances of word choice evoke a huge difference in both perception and reaction.  

Or not. On one hand, I think word choice and title choice can make a big difference. But on the other, if the following book titles have been published (and they have!) maybe titles don't matter at all. Consider:

Beats exploding, I suppose.

Okeydoke, then.

About a master debater?

The only game our cats play is hide and go sleep.

the perfect gift for the grandkids?

guess you have to be Catholic first, right?

  The author's name should be Lucy Bowels.

ewwwww

there's a reason it's a lost art

um, why bother?

stool softener helps

no comment

not cuddly anymore, huh?

And here's some more actual book titles to consider:

• The Pop-Up Book of Phobias
• Scouts in Bondage
• Be Bold With Bananas
• 101 Uses for Tampon Applicators
• Suture Self   (Now, I LIKE this one!)
• How to Make Love While Conscious
• Up Sh*t Creek: a collection of horrifying true wilderness toilet misadventures
• The History of Sh*t
• First You Take a Leek
• The Romance of Proctology
• Heave Ho: My Little Green Book of Seasickness
• More Balls Than Hands  (ahem ... about juggling)
• Postmortem Collectibles
• Knitting With Dog Hair
• Last Chance at Love: Terminal Romances
• The Book of Lesbian Horse Stories
• Stop Dressing Your Six-Year-Old Like a Skank and Other Words of Delicate Southern Wisdom

And finally, my own personal favorite:

• Get Your Tongue Out Of My Mouth, I'm Kissing You Good-Bye

How about you? Do you think titles matter? Come across any doozies lately?

Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.