I received an email today from a friend. It contained a link to an article that compared two very annoying car ads in the US, one for Cadillac and one for Ford. Reading the article and viewing the ads made me aware of how disconnected I have become from the world of consumerism. And it’s not just me. Many of the people I encounter on a daily basis are the same. For reasons of their own, they have decided not to define themselves by their purchases. So, I decided to write an alternative advertisement script for them and me.
Bright sunny day outside. Birds are singing. Sun shines in through a window onto a man sitting at a computer in his apartment, editing photographs. Man looks up from his computer screen at camera.
I killed my TV in the eighties, and I stopped doing the high-five around the same time. I don’t fist bump, either. I don’t need to do shit like that to feel hip or trendy. I don’t follow trends. I’m an artist; I set them. Sometimes it feels like I just don’t belong, and that’s very satisfying. Why do I work so hard? Because I’m driven by an organic brain disorder that won’t allow me to stop, even when it hurts. I don’t take any time off in August because, though I am very productive, I’m not conventionally employed, and I can’t afford to do so. I also can’t afford a car, and wouldn’t own one if I could. Because even if it’s a warm and fuzzy feel good plug-in, it still contributes hugely to the destruction of the planet. I’d like there to be something left over for my grandchildren and great grandchildren. So, I take the bus or walk. (This is where I’m supposed to high-five some like-minded person sitting on my couch and do the snappy costume change. Except I won’t, since I live alone and I don’t high-five. I already told you that, man.) And, though I live in a bilingual country, I don’t use phrases like n’est-ce pas to direct bigoted jabs at highly evolved foreign cultures. Bigotry is boring, and intelligent people don’t practice it. Finally, let me say this, because I won’t own a car, I know that that segment of the economy doesn’t care about me. The feeling is mutual, baby.
Man flips the bird at camera.
Fade to black.